The rain is very sudden. All down the street, people scramble for doors.
Jared doesn’t have a hat and doesn’t care. He wants to be wet and cold. This is his rain; he called it down with shouts and anger, matched its thunder with his fist against the doorframe. That’s not true, though. The storm is solid, and something inside him is breaking up. He starts to shiver.
Luther catches him at the corner. He’s beautiful. His hands are on Jared’s face.
The scurriers have arrived in safety. All down the street, umbrellas pop out and begin to twirl water away.
They’re walking closer again. Marvin notices this once in a while.
“Have you been to Slipdisc?” she asks. “It’s great. Just this great indie store, really… I can take you there, yeah?”
Marvin feels electric, in his arms and shoulders, in his fingertips. Not love, he decides. Nor lust. Something else.
“It’s really good to see you,” he says.
“Yeah, it is.”
“I already said that.” His hands are in his pockets, and hers behind her back. She drops back, hops forward; he takes two Monkee-strides and falls back in step.
“It’s true.”
They’re walking closer again. Surely she notices too.