I love rain.
I mean, I love reading and strawberries and Disney movies, too. But rain is beautiful. It's fresh and clean and makes everything new again. So, on the day after my sister's drunk episode, I went on a walk. I had a red coat on and my yellow wellington boots so I figured the rain wouldn't soak me through. I was also wearing my yellow hat and blue mittens so I wasn't going to get cold any time soon. But my nose and cheeks acquired a reddish tint. There's a path that winds over a hill and across the valley of green and through town. I followed it towards the strip of shops to buy a packet of crisp and a drink. I ate the crisps on the way back and stopped to sit on top of a slightly ruined stone wall. The top was lumpy but served as a great seat. And so I just sat there and looked out onto the rolling green hills and overcast skies and let the rain fall.
I fucking hate rain.
It makes everything soggy and miserable and girls never want to go out and get laid when the pavements are damp and the sky is white with clouds and grey with misery.
Mum wanted me to pick up a dress from Jenna Toleman, a lady who'd arrived with her daughters yesterday. Apparently they went to school together or something. I wasn't staying in Dublin for long, and I'd be going back to Mullingar in a few weeks. But still, may as well get out and about.
I was walking with my shoulders hunched to fend off the oncoming drizzle and walked up the concrete path towards the house where Jenna was staying. As I walked, I passed a rainbow. Not the thing in the sky, no. Much worse. A girl with a red cost, blue gloves, yellow hat and green wellies. It was ridiculous and vibrant amoung the pale green and grey surroundings.
Waves of strawberry-blonde hair fell down her back and she was whistling. It was a vaguely Irish folk song and it sounded lovely.
"You look like a walking disco ball." I muttered, climbing onto the crumbling stone wall anûd sitting beside her. My bum got cold within seconds.
She looked over at me and I stared. When I was walking, all I could see was her back. She had an oval face, smooth pale skin and freckles on her nose and cheekbones. Her fringe fell into her eyes which were the colour of the rainy sky.
"You look like a walking pickup line." Her voice had a tint of an Irish accent but was mostly British and it was husky which made me think of singing. I hadn't thought of it in a long time.
"Touche," I said, smiling a little. "So, what's your name?"
She held out her hand. "My name's I'm not sleeping with you. How do you do?"
I shook her hand. Her knuckles had freckles on them. "Seriously though, what's your name?"
She let go of my hand. "Daisy. You?"
"Hello, Daisy. I'm Niall."
"Like the River Nile?" She looked at me curiously. And for once, I didn't think about stripping her naked. We were just talking.
"No. Just Niall."
She smiled. It was the kind of my smile that made you think she was far off, dreaming of something just beyond her reach. The kind of smile I wanted to keep on her face forever.
Then I told myself I was being ridiculously mushy and stupid and I needed to pick up that fucking dress.
"Well, Daisy. I've gotta get going. But it was nice meeting you. Even if you don't want to sleep with me." She turned at that and I winked, jumping off the wall and continuing down the path. But I couldn't help looking back at the multi-coloured Daisy that talked like a normal person and didn't make me think about sleeping with her.