Read Online The Weight of Rain by Mariah Dietz - Free Book Online Page B

sketchpad from my bag and hold it out to him. Without hesitation, he takes the book, holding it as though he understands and respects the countless hours that have been poured onto the pages.
    “Holy shit.” His voice is barely audible as he stares at a sheet.
    My curiosity is piqued. I move to look over his shoulder and see a drawing of Mercedes. Her hair is down, wrapped around her in curling vines, and her eyes are bright with a happiness that I’ve only recently been subjected to. Her mouth, however, is straight, reflecting little emotion as it does too often.
    “You’re an artist.” His words are filled with admiration and a sincerity that makes me suddenly feel nervous. “This is insane!” He stares at several of the pages without a word, just silently inspecting each of them with a level of respect that makes me feel proud.
    “These are really cool. Whose hands are these? Your boyfriends’?”
    That damn flush returns to my cheeks and I shake my head. He can tell they’re intimate even though there is nothing sexual on the page. “No. Nothing like that.” I know what page he’s looking at by catching sight of a heavily shaded corner. I had drawn a series of pictures with hands from all different angles. Every perspective I can still picture them being from that night: balancing a bottle, resting on his thigh, holding my hand, running along my sides. I have worked to block the memory of him but still find myself mindlessly sketching parts of him.
    “These are amazing, Lauren. Truly amazing.”
    “Lo.”
    Kash and I both turn toward the hallway where Mercedes is standing.
    “What?” he asks.
    “Her name’s Lo, Dad.”
    He smiles and nods. “Did you know Lo is a flipping artist?”
    “They look like pictures taken from a camera, don’t they?”
    “Yes! It’s crazy!”
    Kash’s form of artistry is a different realm altogether from my own, but his compliment feels nearly equal to hearing an accolade from Douglas McDougall or Anselm Kiefer.

 
    “H EY , L O . Are you ready?”
    I turn my head to look over my right shoulder and widen my eyes in question. “Ready for what?”
    “The shop is finally ready!” There’s a giddiness in her eyes and voice that I haven’t heard before, and it makes my heart swell, but it’s the smile on her face that makes it feel like it may burst.
    “Show me!” I don’t even consider what we’re going to do. I mindlessly follow her out into a light and steady late October drizzle. We pass the yard and continue on a well-worn dirt path to the large shop that can be seen from the house.
    “Are you ready?”
    “Want a drum roll?” Mercedes rolls her eyes with my dry tone, making me break into a smile. “Show me this world you love.”
    A smile creeps back across her lips as she turns and pulls the door open. My nose wrinkles with the assault of fumes as we step inside, but I don’t focus on it. I can’t. My eyes are trying to ingest all of the gray tones of cement and the wide path running around the parameter. There are long rails along a set of stairs, a large pit of foam, and two wide ramps that curve up in giant cement C’s, all surrounded by bright white walls.
    “This place is huge.” My voice is an echo, getting lost in the vastness.
    “Isn’t it awesome?”
    “Hey!” Mercedes and I turn and find Kash and Summer in the doorway. Kash is looking to Mercedes, obviously seeking approval. “What do you think? Pretty legit, right?”
    “It’s blowing my mind.” Kash’s smile grows with Mercedes’ approval.
    “Are you ready to break this baby in?” he asks, clasping his hands together.
    “What about King?”
    “He sent me a picture of the Alps yesterday. I think it’s a pretty even trade. Parker will be here in five.”
    “Come on, Lo, let’s pick a bike for you.” Mercedes takes my hand, and I truly consider following her before I stop.
    “Yeah, I think I’ll break in the bleacher seat,” I say, nodding to a long bench against the