It starts off with a light drizzle then morphs into a steady rainfall until we're soon being pounded upon. It gets pretty noisy in the house whenever it rains this hard.

   I decide to pull out a game of checkers for us to play for a while. I'm the best in my family at checkers and I'm not too humble about that title. I guess it's because it's actually something I excel  at. My mom always comments that I should form a checkers club in school that way we could go to competitions and stuff and make Cauldron proud, but I always dismiss her fantasies- though they do boost my confidence.

   Well, if my mother could build my confidence, Xalale could sure tear it down.

   Turns out Xalale is a great strategic, and since checkers is all about strategy, he owns me in every game. They don't even last past ten or fifteen minutes because he's already captured all my checkers by then. We do this about twenty times (I'm not exaggerating). I keep calling a rematch because- if my basic math of statics is right- I have to win at least one game- one game! But every time I think I have the advantage, I make a hasty move which I can't recover from and he ends up cornering me and capturing my pieces. I mean, it's infuriating at times.

   "Can you just let me win once, you are destroying my self-esteem," I complain, after about our twelfth game.

    "I did try to let you win, you just aren't very mastered in this game." He replies.

    "I don't get it. I win all the time against my parents, but you keep finding all these loopholes."

    He shrugs, taking this like it was nothing more than a game- which it was- but to me, this is more. As petty as it is, it really does get under my skin. I thought I was good at something- that I actually had a small talent- then here comes someone much better than me, revealing yet again that I don't seem to possess a talent.

   After about the twentieth game, we're both tired out of playing checkers so I decide, what better way to rebuild my confidence than playing Boggle. It's not too advanced and something I do all the time with my mom.

   Outside, it continues to rain buckets while lightening can be seen and bouts of thunder rumble throughout the house.

   I don't have to explain the game too much since it's quite simple. After I shake the cube, I get right down to writing as many words as possible.

   Once the timer goes off, I'm feeling pretty confident in my list of words. We count them up and I have a whopping 26 words- not my highest, but a nice total.

   "So, how many do you have?" I ask, peering over at his paper.

   "34."

   "34!?" I snatched the paper from him and count it myself. Sure enough, there are 34 real words.

   Handing him back the paper, I feel completely defeated.

   "How many do you have?" He asks.

   I'm feeling rather stupid when I meagerly reply,"26."

   "Hm."

   I don't know what's worse, the fact that he's beating me at everything even though these are all foreign games to him or the fact that he's beating me and not rubbing it in. It's stupid, I know, but secretly, deep down, I kinda want him to be all pompous about it, bragging and everything because then I can at least feel morally better that whenever I win I don't act that way. But he takes these wins like a grain of salt and it's killing me.

   "How about we watch TV or something," I suggest, already putting away Boggle.

   "I'm not very interested in watching frivolous things."

    "What a joy he is."

    "Well, I'm tired of playing games."

    He doesn't comment on that, instead he stares out the kitchen window at the sheets of rain pounding against the glass.

    Drumming my fingers on the table, I think of something we could do. An idea eventually comes to mind.

   "Oh, we should solve a puzzle."

    I'm already getting up to get one of my mom's many puzzles she hoards in the hallway closet. Returning with a 500 piece puzzle, I empty it out on the table.

    Me and my mom do puzzles all the time. It's one of my favorite bonding times with her. We can solve a 1000 piece puzzle in one day flat if we put ourselves to it diligently.

   I've solved this particular puzzle before so right away I'm putting pieces together. I'm only stumped once I finish putting together the outer edge of the puzzle. It's trial and error now, trying to see what matches and what doesn't.

    "Ugh, this is really hard-" I say, glancing over at him.

    My words die out once I see that he's very much ahead of me, completely done with one corner of the puzzle- the most difficult part mind you. I had the easy village part to work on which shouldn't be hard seeing how the houses were different colors and designs, while he worked on the grassy hillside that looked exactly the same.

     "Alright, I'm done."

    I really am. Do you know how discouraging it is to compete with someone who's clearly above your level in every way.

   "I never knew Xalale was talented in so many things, like solving Rubix cubes and beating me at checkers and solving puzzles in short time periods." God, it's making me pissed just thinking about it!

    I stand up which gets his attention.

   "What are you doing?"

   I try to mask my bitterness with a nonchalant tone.

   "Nowhere, just my room. I'm kind of tired and need to look at my emails and stuff."

   "That can't wait?" He replies annoyed.

   "No, I mean, I don't really like puzzles anyway. Plus, you're really quick at them, it shouldn't take you long by yourself."

    I'm trying really hard not to sound bitter at him, but it's driving me insane.

   About to head back to my room, I'm stopped by the ringing of the phone in the family room. I almost don't hear it over the storm. Disappearing into the family room, I pick up on the fourth ring.

   "Hello?"

   All I get is background noise of rain in the receiver.

   "Uh, hello?"

   I'm about to hang up until I hear a scratchy, male voice pipe up.

   "Oh, uh, this- this is the Ryders' household, right?"

   "Yeah...who's this?"

   "Is this Mallory on the phone?"

   "Yeah, who's this?" I ask again.

   "Oh! Uh, sorry, it's Ruthford. We met on the street today. Remember?"

   "Oh, yeah, Ruthford. Hi." I'm sure we're both feeling rather stupid right now.

    I settle down on the couch and ask, "What's up?"

   "Uh, nothing much really," A brief silence. "It's really raining, isn't it?"

    He sounds just as awkward and stiff over the phone as he does in person.

   "Yeah, I mean it's really going out there."

    A flash of lightning illuminates the room for a quick second with a deep rumble of thunder following.

    Nothing but dead silence can be heard from either end, but we're both still on. I don't really know where to direct this conversation since he's the one who called me, so I remain quiet.

   Finally, he must either remember what he's calling about or makes it up.

   "So are you doing anything tomorrow?"

   I shrug even though he can't see it, "I haven't planned anything, no."

   He brightens somewhat at this.

   "Cool. Would you be interested still in coming over to my house for a taste test?"

   "Um, I guess. What time?"

    I can practically hear him bubbling over himself.

   "Anytime. But if I had to set a time, maybe noon or later. It'll give me enough time to get things all set up."

   "Okay."

   "I can't wait to show you all the flavors I've made. I think I've actually invented a new flavor. It's really nice- at least to me- but I need someone to test it out and describe it to me so I can come up with a name. Boy, you think making the stuff is the hardest part but you don't know hard until you have to come up with an appropriate name for the..."

   As he continues his eager rambling and as I continue to murmur my understandings, I can't help but feel like I've made a mistake. I really needed to think about this, but he's so awkward and nice that I couldn't help it. He clearly has no one who shares his painfully boring passion with and if I can help do that then maybe I should, but I sometimes hate being the nice guy.

   "Didn't mean to hold you up," He says, starting to calm down. "I just get enthusiastic sometimes."

   "No problem. I can't wait to see what you'll have for me tomorrow."

    I just made his day, I'm 100% sure about that.

    "Alright, I'll go now."

    "Okay, bye." I begin putting the phone back in the cradle.

    "Bye."

    I hung up. I can tell he's awkward in goodbyes over the phone so better just to do it for him.

    Letting out a long, tired breath of air, I lay back on the couch for a second before making my way back into the kitchen to where Xalale is flying through that puzzle.

   "That looks really good," I comment. Secretly, my blood is boiling, but I don't want to let on.

   "Hm."

   He's pretty concentrated on finishing that puzzle, which I'm sure he'll do in no time. Plopping down in my chair, I watch him work for a bit, the both of us in silence with the storm raging on outside.

   "I'm going to hang out at Ruthford's house tomorrow at noon or so." I pipe up.

   He doesn't even glance up at me.

   "I thought we had to go into town tomorrow."

   "What? Why?"

    This time he does glance up at me, but only for a few seconds then he's back to studying the pieces again.

   "We need to go into town because you said there was a person who could help us with magic."

   "Oh, right." That's another one up he has on me- his perfect memory. I completely forgot about going into town tomorrow. This screws everything up now.

   Tugging on my ear, I continue to watch him work.

   "Yeah, I did say that, didn't I? Well, we can do that Sunday or later on Saturday after my visit with Ruthford."

    It's like all he has to do is stare at the unconnected pieces then pick up the right match and put them in the right place. It's like he doesn't even have to try!

   Watching him solve this is only irritating me more. No, in fact, it's pissing me off- it genuinely is. The more I think about it, mulling it over in my mind, the more I want to flip the freakin' table over.

   He has a perfect memory, he solved a Rubix cube in under an hour, put together a 500 piece puzzle by himself, bested me in every game of checkers, has an amazing ability- I always wanted powers, always. Plus- even though he won't show me- I know he can actually sing, he's probably an amazing singer.

   A small part of me knows I'm blowing this way out of proportion, but the majority of me doesn't care. He's making me feel like shit.

   Finally, I can't take sitting here any longer with him showing me up. Getting up, I attempt to mask some of my disdain when I talk.

   "I'm going to my room. Just call if you need me."

   My voice sounds deceiving enough, but he glances at me with a suspicious expression that doesn't quite go away even when he looks back down.

   Breezing away to my room, my first course of action is to open up my laptop and get onto my blog. I'm a crazy mix of emotions right now and honestly, half of me doesn't understand the reason.

   I mean, sure it's always made me feel disappointed whenever someone demonstrated their talent and I knew I couldn't show or tell them mine, but for Xalale, I feel angry and inferior. He's the one exception.

   Typing away fervently at my keyboard, I let out all my frustrations on my entry. Maybe someone will read it and relate. I'm hoping.

   By the time I wrap it up, I'm only feeling slightly better- there's still negative emotions bouncing around inside me.

    "What is wrong with me?"

   Snapping my laptop closed and laying back, I stare up at the ceiling. Actually, staring at the ceiling is beginning to calm me down. I can see why Xalale does this so often- it really soothes the nerves.

    "If only I could summon Sephora whenever I pleased."

   Breathing steadily, my heart aligns with the heavy downpour outside- the rain a natural metronome for my heart.

    I must've drifted off to sleep because next thing I know, I'm waking up to a darkened, quiet room.

   Slightly groggy and disoriented as I sit up, flicking on the lamp, my eyes readjust to the new lighting.

   Due to the lack of deafening noise outside, I assume the rain and thunder have ceased. Getting up to peer out the window, my assumption is correct- only a few gray clouds linger in the clear, night sky, though looks pretty soggy out there.

   Returning to my bed, I reach over on the nightstand to check on the stone. This stone is a crucial turning point and even though Aelita doesn't know where it is or that we have it, I feel the persistent need to guard it like gold. After careful inspection and jumping to the conclusion that all is fine, I set the stone down and this time glance at the clock.

   8:12

   Rubbing the crust out of my eyes and stretching, I get to my feet, deciding to venture out of my room.

   "Gah." I have to shield my eyes for a few seconds when I enter out into the brighter house.

   My eyes do adjust, allowing me to stroll into the kitchen without feeling like a bat.

   The house seems eerily quiet and the kitchen's no exception- not a soul in there.

   "Odd."

   The completed puzzle on the table does get my attention though. The beautiful, tranquil hillside looking down on the colorful village is an inviting picture and it's amazing to see what a few pieces make.

   "Wonder how long it took him."

   On the topic of Xalale, where is he? I glance around but see no trace of him. Wandering into the family room now, I'm more curious than concern at this point- but that could easily change if I don't spot him soon.

   It's rather meaningless searching the family room intensely like maybe he's hiding. Just standing in one spot, you can see everything in the room. Frowning, I poke my head out into the hallway to see if he might be there, but the results come up empty.

   I'm still not completely worried or anything, but I would feel better knowing where he is exactly.

   Slumping on the couch, an idea hits me. Why don't I just call out for him? The house isn't a mansion so he should be able to hear me from any room, plus we're the only ones in the house at this point. Besides, I'd rather be somewhat lazy and not get up.

   "Xalale?" I use a normal indoor voice since it should be enough for him to hear me.

   Waiting a brief moment for a response, I frown when all I receive is the original silence.

   "Okay, let's try again. Maybe he's in the bathroom running the water."

   I call out just a tad bit louder.

   "Xalale."

   Waiting, waiting...nothing. No response at all- absolutely nothing.

   "Alright, don't panic now, just relax. He might just be ignoring you for some reason." I try to relieve some of the growing anxiety with logical explanations. "Yeah, he might just be ignoring you or sleeping somewhere or maybe he's unconscious somewhere-" My mind can be a very unhelpful thing at times.

   Standing up, I call out again, hoping like crazy that he'll answer me back this time- that he'll hear the subtle urgency in my voice when I call.

   "Xalale?"

   An empty, silent house. You can practically hear a pin drop.

   My heartbeat is racing now like I just begun running a 5k marathon right now. My casual concern has now morphed into panicky worry.

   "Get a grip!" I snap at myself, plopping back down on the couch. I will not let this stress me out- I refuse to. Take a breath and let it go should be my philosophy. "Everything is still fine, it's not the end of-"

   At the sound of the toilet flushing and the bathroom door opening and slamming shut, I jump to my feet, startled by the sudden disturbance. (And I thought my heart was pumping before!)

   I'm expecting Xalale to enter the family room, me ready to fuss at him for scaring me half to death, but my words fall short once I notice my dad walk in. He looks up from the paper, giving me his usual, wide smile.

   "Hey, Mal. Were you callin' me while I was on the John?"

   If I'm being honest, I'm a little flustered right now. I thought for sure only me and Xalale were the only ones home. I didn't even hear him come in.

   Words finally return to my mouth and I stammer out, "Uh, no, I was just talking to myself."

   Shrugging, he sets the paper aside, collapsing in his chair and turning on the TV.

   "How was your day?" He asks, preoccupied with a game of golf. "Glad to have the weekend to yourself?"

   "Um, yeah," Slowly, I ease back down on the couch, confused and more concerned than ever to where Xalale might be.

   "You did a good job on that puzzle."

   "Huh?"

   "On the kitchen table. It looks nice. How long did it take ya?"

   "Oh yeah, that. I don't really know, but not too long."

   The fearful possibilities of where he might be fly through my mind. Why would he even go off in the first place? What if he's still in the house and my dad runs into him? This is bad.

   "Mallory."

   "Hm?" I turn my attention to my dad.

   "You okay? You seem a little out there tonight."

   "Oh, no, I'm fine, just thinking."

   "Alright," His eyes return to the screen, losing their concerned expression. "I was just asking you if you could get me a beer from the fridge."

   "Yeah."

   Getting up and heading into the kitchen, I have a small hope that he might be there, but my hope is proven false when I enter a still empty kitchen. Sighing nervously, I pull out a cold Bud Light for my dad and go back into the family room to give it to him.

   Sitting there, watching a painfully boring game of golf just to ease my mind, I count the minutes that go by hoping to distract myself. Why I'm so nervous, I don't know, but it's eating away at me. Finally, I can't stand the thought of just sitting here doing nothing in hopes that something will happen.

   My dad barely notices me get up and leave the room or the house for that matter.

   I exit the house, bounding down the porch steps with my first destination in mind of where he might be. The ground outside is soaked to the core, the grass a squishy, muddy mess that I really don't want to step in, but the place I'm heading to is the woods, where it's probably even more mucky, requiring me to walk through the grass in my bare feet. At least it's not my sneakers.

   The waning moon and the yellow tinted lighting from the house and porch light are my only form of light on my trek to the woods, so I keep my eyes trained on the ground in case of something unwanted in the grass I don't want to step on. My head must be down too much and as I round the corner of the house, I collide straight into someone. They were going a quicker speed than me so physics demands I must be the one to fall backward on my butt in the drenched, muddy ground.

   "Mallory?" It's Xalale.

    Immediately, all the anxiety leaves my system and I almost want to sigh in relief- almost. Though the anxiety has left, I'm now flooded by annoyance, irritation, and overall am just in a crappy mood now thanks to him.

   "What are you doing?" He offers a hand to assist me up, but I reject and get up on my own.

   "I could ask the same of you." I counter.

    The dim lighting from the kitchen beams out but doesn't quite reach us so I can't see his face too good, which means he can't see the aggregated expression I'm making.

   "I was fixing something. Are you fine?"

   "Peachy." He may not be able to see my face, but he'll definitely be able to detect my irritated tone.

    Rubbing the grass off my bottom, neither of us says anything for a while until I finish rubbing as much off as I can. I'm positive there's a grass stain that's bound to never come out no matter which deceiving detergent brand I use.

   "My dad's home now so we'll have to be extra careful heading inside," I grumble, now damp and miserable. "What were you even fixing out here anyway?"

   "I'll show you in the morning." He sounds in a decent, if not, pleased mood- it only worsens my mood.

   "I'm not a fan of surprises," Huffing, I turn to head to the porch. "Come on."

   I don't hear him following behind, but at this point, I don't care- I'm wet, I'm in an irritable mood, and I still haven't gotten over him being better at everything than me.

   Once I reach the porch, though, I can feel his presence behind me. I'm about to open the door, carefully, but his voice stops me.

   "What's wrong with you?"

   Holding back a sigh, I keep my hand on the doorknob ready to turn and walk in, ignoring his question, but he asks again and I need him to be quiet before we head inside.

   "What's wrong?" His tone is more demanding than before.

   "Nothing, I'm tired. Now we gotta stay quiet or else my dad will hear us."

   I don't know if it was when I answered nothing or how I snapped at him when I responded, but now I got him worked up and on my damn case, which I don't need.

   "You're lying. What's wrong?"

   I can't hold by my frustrated sigh anymore and let it out.

   "It's really nothing important. Can we just go inside?"

   "Not until you tell me what's wrong."

   "Nothing, now let's shut up for a-"

   "Look me in the eyes and lie again."

   His tone was daring, challenging me. We both know I'm lying, I'm not fooling anyone. Even though the regular, night, summer noises were surrounding us, it felt like a serious curtain had fallen between us.

   Exhaling at the door, I speak up, "I told you, it's nothing, I'm just tired-"

   "You can't do it. You can't at least lie to my face, you have to-"

   I'm so beyond done at this point, once in a while you just have to snap, not thinking about the consequences or anything. Your emotions take over your better logic.

   I do, in fact, turn around now to look him in the eyes, anger visible on my face and the volume of my voice.

  "Oh right, 'cuz I forgot, you're fuckin' perfect and blameless. You're mister tells-the-truth-all-the-time type kind of guy. I don't need you- especially you of all people- to tell me when and when not to lie. I told you it's nothing, now just letting it be nothing dammit."

   To be fully honest, I'm not sure what I'm even supposed to be mad about. Why am I angry in the first place? Is it because I'm hit with the reality of my talentless life? Probably. Unfortunately, Xalale- who is some of the reason behind my anger- is the one getting the brunt of my rage. Is it necessary fair? At that moment, I'm not really caring.

   My whole demeanor is quite hostile at this point and I want him to know that. I must've caught him off-guard because his mask of unreadability breaks and I watch the different emotions roll across his face. Anger, confusion, irritation. But the one that catches me off guard and goes by the quickest- hurt.

   But soon, his expression becomes a blank slate again and he just glares back at me with his piercing eyes. Then, he simply walks away off the porch, around the corner of the house. I don't call out or try to stop, just watch him go, disappearing into the night without a word.

    Maybe this is what we both need, though. Some time apart to let ourselves cool down and our emotion simmer.

   "Mal?"

   Just then I hear my dad's voice as he opens the front door, looking out at me through the screen door.

   "You alright? I thought I heard you talking to someone."

   My back is still towards him as I look out at the driveway. I try to muster up a convincing, nonchalant tone, but falter.

   "I'm fine. Just talking to myself."

    I know he's frowning at me, but I don't want to turn around and confront him- I just don't. So my back remains facing him.

    "You feeling alright?" He asks tentatively. "You comin' down with something?"

    In an effort to reassure him, I twisted around to finally face him and answer in a quiet, thoughtful voice.

   "No, I just,"-I sigh a little- "I just want to stand out here for a while, maybe till mom gets home. I'll stare at the stars- stargaze."

    Even though I can still sense the concern in his face, he lets out a brief chuckle.

   "We haven't done that in a while, have we? Stargazin'. I remember me and you used to go out back all the time and study the stars, you always loved the colorful ones."

    I can't help but smile at such a nostalgic memory.

   "Hey, tell ya what," He brightens up, "Why don't you and I go stargazing this weekend? Maybe tomorrow tonight or Sunday- whichever has better night weather."

    He seems so eager and my inner child is yearning for those special times again. It's too good of an offer to pass up.

   "Okay. We can go Sunday night."

   He nods, "Alright, the date is set."

   He turns to head back to the family room but pauses to add, "Just come in once your mom gets home. I'll leave the door unlocked."

   "Okay."

   He closes the door behind him as he moseyed back to the family room, leaving me in higher spirits than when he first came.

   So I get comfort on the steps, waiting for my mom to come home, thinking about anything and everything.

   "What more can life throw?"

    Sighing, I turn my gaze up toward the sky and, not for the first time, I wonder if Edalirwen and Earth share the same stars and moon.