Angel Tears

Thunder rumbled over my head. I looked up at the sky—a dark and malevolent blanket of cloud—and blinked when a raindrop suddenly hit my nose. I glanced behind me; for a moment, I'd felt as though someone were watching me, but there was no one there.1

With a sigh, I continued trudging on.2

More raindrops started falling, but it was still only a drizzle. I knew that soon it would become a downpour; with the way my luck was lately, it was sure to happen.3

I kicked a pebble as I walked. It flew a few feet ahead, hitting the concrete and rolling within a few inches of falling into the storm drain. When I reached it again, I paused, just looking at that sad little stone. After a few moments' deliberation, I decided not to kick it again.4

Another raindrop hit my nose—a bigger one, this time. I sniffed and wiped it off with my sweatshirt sleeve, but the moment I put my arm down, another drop replaced it. I released a small sound of annoyance and dried my nose again. 5

Sure enough, the rain was coming faster now. I put up my hood and lowered my head to avoid getting my face too wet. A small bolt of lightning off in the distance appeared, gone in seconds. Not long afterward, the boom of its thunder reached my ears.6

Once I reached my favorite park bench, which rested beneath a large and leafy oak tree, I took refuge there and sat, shivering. It was a warm rain, but the slight breeze made me slightly chilled.7

I watched the rain come pouring down. It made the whole world—or, at least, the little part of it that I could see—look bleak and gray. Puddles of water collected in the dips and curves of the ground, rippling dramatically with every touch of rain. 8

A drop of water rolled down my cheek. Irritably, I brushed it away, thinking that it had dripped down out of my hair—but no, it was a tear. I was crying.9

Surprised at myself, I glanced around to make sure that there was still no one else in the park to see. The place was still deserted. Relieved, I returned to my dismal, gray world and began trying to figure out what was wrong with me.10

“You don’t cry,” I muttered to myself. “What’s the matter with you? You don’t cry.”11

But I WAS crying, and I didn’t understand why.12

A sudden gust of wind blew a sheet of wet at me, and I cried out as it hit. Great. Now I was soaked.13

I jumped up, angry. “Damn it, why does all this crap have to happen to me?” I stormed behind the bench and kicked the oak tree. “This sucks!”14

“What does?”15

I whirled around, startled. Wasn’t the park empty a minute ago?16

I froze when I realized who had joined me under the oak tree. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice cold. 17

“Hiding from the rain,” Anthony replied. “What are you doing here?”18

I released him from my icy stare and looked up into the tree’s branches. “Hiding from everyone.”19

“Why?”20

“Because.”21

“That isn’t a reason.”22

“And your point is?”23

“My point is,” he said, sounding a little annoyed, “that I’d like a real answer, if you don’t mind.”24

“Well, I do mind,” I snapped, sending a glare in his direction. “So buzz off!”25

His face darkened. “Andi, stop being difficult.”26

“I ain’t being difficult.” My voice went defiantly flat. 27

“You are, actually.”28

“I’m being difficult? I’M being difficult? You’re the one who won’t friggin’ let things die. You’re the one going around playing the victim. You’re the one everyone believes, the one everyone still gives a damn about!” I halted; a lump had suddenly formed in my throat. I drew in a shaky breath. “You’re the one who pretends that what happened between us was all my fault.”29

Anthony was silent for a few moments, frowning at the ground. I let out an exasperated huff of air and turned away; I crossed my arms over my chest and stared up into the tree branches again.30

“Andi,” he said softly.31

I ignored him.32

“Andi?”33

It was a tad harder to ignore him this time.34

“Andi, please.”35

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye.36

He held out his hands apologetically. “You’re right. You’re always right. I’m sorry.”37

“No you’re not.” My voice sounded strangely muffled. “Don’t lie to me, I know you’re not.”38

“Andi—“39

“I don’t want to hear it,” I mumbled. “It was your fault in the first place, Anthony. It was your choice to say all that, call me those things… dump me…” I trailed off. “I just don’t know how anyone can believe your stupid story.”40

“I don’t know either.”41

“Didn’t take you long to get another girlfriend, did it. Hmph. It took what, two days?”42

“She’s not important to me. You were the only one who ever really mattered,” he said, coming a little nearer.43

I stood my ground, unwilling to back down. “That’s a bunch of B.S.”44

Thunder crackled directly overhead. We both glanced up instinctively before returning our attention to each other.45

“It’s not B.S., Andi.” He had gotten a lot closer than I’d thought. “You’re the only girl who’s ever mattered this much to me, and you’re the only one who ever will.”46

“Then why the hell would you do what you did?” I challenged, angry tears springing up in my eyes. Damn, that was the second time that day I was crying.47

He paused. Obviously, he hadn’t rehearsed his crappy lines well enough to respond right away—if he had to think about what he said, then he was lying for sure.48

“What, no answer? Nice. At least you came prepared,” I snorted.49

“God, Andi.” He shook his head, annoyed. “I’m trying to apologize. I was an idiot, and I shouldn’t have hurt you.”50

“You didn’t hurt me”—I gritted my teeth when I saw the hope in his eyes—“you completely destroyed me.”51

“I never meant to,” he whispered. “God, Andi, just give me another chance. I’ll never hurt you again, I swear.”52

“Like hell.”53

“Really,” he insisted. “I love you. I love you, Andi. You’re my baby, my angel. I can’t live without you. Please, give me another chance.”54

We stood there, standing two feet from each other, for what seemed like an eternity. The expression on his face was sincere, honest, hopeful. But I recognized the look in his eyes. He hadn’t changed. He would never change. He would simply hurt me again, and we both knew it. “Forget it, Anthony. I’m not taking you back.”55

I went around the bench and walked out into the pouring rain.56

“Andi, wait!”57

I ignored him easily this time, forcing myself to keep walking. My sweatshirt was already saturated, and my socks were wet inside my tennis shoes. As I passed the storm drain, I kicked the pebble in.58

Anthony’s calls were soon drowned out by the rain and thunder claps, and the gray around me was solidified into a wall of foggy despair.59

Drops of water dripped down my face. Even today, I’m not sure if they were raindrops or tears. 60