Outside, the rain had slowed down considerably, making a sporadic patting sound on the roof of my umbrella. Dex pulled up his grey hoodie over his head, having refused an umbrella of his own, and we took off down the street with Fat Rabbit leading the way, straining against the leash.
I observed the apartment buildings and chain hotels around me, the Pink Elephant carwash nearby, the gloomy urban sprawl. Dex was silent and popped a piece of Nicorette in his mouth. With his slouchy walk, eyebrow ring, dark eyes and dark jacket, he looked like an essential piece of the Seattle scenery. I couldn’t think of a city that suited him as much as this one did.
“Does the dog need to be taken for a lot of walks?” I asked, avoiding a few puddles hidden beneath a mask of dead leaves.
He chewed a few times, his lips twitching sheepishly.
“Probably not. I’m just used to going out to smoke. Now I just take Fat Rabbit here to clear my head, distract myself. Old habits, you know.”
“I’m proud of you,” I blurted out.
His eyes shot out to the side, looking down at me quickly, puzzled.
“For quitting smoking,” I continued. “I didn’t think you’d do it.”
“I still don’t think it’s going to stick.”
“But you’re trying.”
“Yeah. I’m trying,” he said, and then sighed, sounding vaguely melancholy. “I’ve even cut down on this gum a bit. I’ve found that if I chew more than one piece at a time, I can get quite excitable.”
“No kidding,” I teased him. We rounded a building and suddenly the Space Needle was right in front of us. We stopped at a set of lights and I craned my neck at the towering icon.
“You been up there?” I asked, even though it was probably a stupid question since he was a Seattle-ite.
“No, actually. That’s too fucking high for me.”
“You’re afraid of heights?” I asked, surprised. Dex didn’t strike me as being afraid of anything. After the last couple of times with him, he earned his place as the bravest person I know.
He shrugged. He’s also one of the quietest people I know. The light changed and we crossed the road. We walked past a crazy-shaped building that was the Experience Music Project and a Science Fiction museum and I made a mental note to try to check out at least one of them before the week was over. Of course, that all depended on what Dex had planned for us.
“So do we have a work schedule for the week?” I questioned as we walked past an arts theatre and stopped and stood at a grassy patch where Fat Rabbit could run around a bit and tire himself out.
He brought out his gold lighter from his pocket. He flickered it on and off a few times, watching the flame as the rain continuously put it out. Old habits.
“Tomorrow we’ve got a meeting with the head doctor/administrator dude at the hospital. He said we could interview him on camera and he’d take us on a short tour of the place. I’m not sure if he’s going to let us film anything on our own but we’ll figure that out. We’ll find a way.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have a pile of homework for me to do. Unless that’s your plan for tonight, get me to hit the books.”
He flicked off the lighter and put in his pocket and pulled sharply on the leash as Fat Rabbit made a dash for a nearby pooch. He choked for a second against the collar, then trotted back to us, tongue hanging out of his mouth.
I adjusted my grip on the umbrella and raised it slightly so I could get a better look at Dex. He hadn’t said anything. I didn’t even know if he heard me. His eyes looked troubled and were searching the scrawny, depleted trees that lined nearby pathways. He almost looked…afraid.
“Are you OK?” I stepped forward and gently placed my hand on his arm.
He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. His brows furrowed close to each other, deepening the permanent crease in between them. My grip on his arm tightened. “Dex?”
“Yup,” he said, keeping his eyes shut. “I’m…thinking.”
Finally he opened his eyes and smiled. It was a sad one. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
I took my hand off him and gave him a quizzical look, hoping to find out what just went on inside his head. His expression was blasé, his lids sleepy and uncaring. Once again, he was just too inconsistent, too hard to read.
Fat Rabbit stopped in between us, sat back on his white haunches and alternated looking at both at us. What’s the holdup? he seemed to be saying. Why aren’t we walking?
“Is it your medication?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry this is so weird.”
“What’s weird? This?”
He sucked his lower lip back and forth and stared down at the dog without seeing him. I waited patiently for his answer. I knew not to prod too much or he’d clam up for a long time.
I sighed and put my hand out, palm up, feeling for the rain. Cold, heavy drops fell onto it, ricocheting off. Fat Rabbit stared up at me like I was holding a treat.
Dex suddenly reached out and grabbed my hand, holding it there. He pushed back the sleeve of my leather jacket and peered at the purple Silly Bandz bracelet that he had given me as a makeshift birthday present.
“You’re still wearing this,” he said, his voice sounding softly amazed.
I let him hold my wrist, my hand quickly growing wet. His grip was gentle and hot against my cold skin.
“It’s my anchor,” I lowered my voice, feeling just a bit embarrassed. He raised his eyes to mine and I blushed on command, my cheeks filling with hot blood. He let his hand slide down until it was holding mine, our fingers intertwined. The hairs on my neck stood up like cactus needles. This was not good. It felt good. It felt really, sticky good. But that didn’t make it right.