Author's Note: Unlike most of my stories, this series is not intended to be a 'stroke story', but more of a realistic tale of romance between a boy and girl. If you're a child of the late 80s or early 90s, you may be interested because it contains many references to the 90s.



Summary: A game at Kimmy's apartment ends in fright, prompting the girl to try to encourage Max to face his fears.

(bg, nosex)



	Max was outside on a cloudy Wednesday in October. Today, he wore a long sleeve, red shirt with blue overalls and black sneakers. He was looking in the yard for some flowers to give to Kimmy. Eventually, he found some yellow wildflowers in the grass and picked five of them. When he was satisfied, he walked back into the building and up the stairs.

	Excitedly, Max walked through the empty hallway, heading to Kimmy's apartment. He stood in front of door 2H and knocked. Kimmy opened the door, wearing a short sleeve, yellow shirt with black shorts.

	"Hi, Max," she smiled.

	"Hey. Can I come in?"

	"Come on in." She moved out of his path and he walked in and she closed the door.

	They walked straight through the hall, which ended at Kimmy's bedroom door.

	The walls of Kimmy's room were light blue and the floor was covered by a gray rug. To the left of the door was her dresser and her bed, which was against the wall. In front of the bed, there was a large, gray, plastic container with a rectangular, green lid. The sliding doors of a closet were to the right of the bedroom door. A royal blue, plastic, four-sided table was in the center of the room and had two royal blue plastic chairs pushed in.

	"I got you some flowers," Max said, holding the flowers out to Kimmy.

	"Ooh. Thank you." Kimmy took the flowers and sniffed them. "What do you want to do?" she asked, putting the flowers on the table.

 	"I don't know."

	"Wanna see my toys?"

	"Yeah." Kimmy pulled the lid off the container in front of her bed. Max looked inside. "Ooh, you got a lot of cool toys." He picked out various dolls and toys, including a brown McDonald's teeny beanie baby moose that had orange antlers, and a small, light blue Star Castle, and set them on the floor. Soon, he found a Mr. Bucket.

	Mr. Bucket was yellow and had flat candy-cane-striped arms on its sides. Its flat, white hands reached up to the rim. Big oval-shaped eyes were looking up with black and blue pupils. Small, puffy cheeks were on both sides of its round, red nose. A wide grin ended the face and was centered by a circular hole.

	After finding all of the holey blue and green balls, Max asked, "Can we play with this?"

	"Yeah."

	Max handed her a small, blue scooper and kept a green one.

	The kids ran all over the room, trying to scoop up their colored balls after Mr. Bucket spit them out. They were trying to get them all into the bucket at once. This was difficult because its shifting hands would often block them when they tried to get the balls in. Also, Mr. Bucket sometimes spit them out too fast for the kids. Still, the game was both fun and funny.

	 Outside, the sky was much cloudier than before, and it was raining. The kids could hear the raindrops loudly tapping against the closed windows.

	A loud crash of thunder literally made Max jump. Fearfully, he looked at the windows.

	"Are you okay?" asked Kimmy, concernedly.

	A particularly loud boom of thunder caused both kids to flinch. Quickly, Max ran and ducked under the table.

	"Max?" Kimmy lowered her head and gazed at her friend, who was sitting with his knees to his chest and his back against a table leg. His head was down, so she couldn't see his face. She crouched under the table and sat beside her friend with her legs folded. Reaching out, she put a hand on his trembling right shoulder and repeated, "Max?"

	Reluctantly, Max lifted his head.

	"It's okay. It's only noise. It won't hurt us."

	Max did not like to cry in front of people. Usually, he could hold his tears back when in public, but the loud rainfall and the occasional thunder coming from outside made it difficult. "I... I don't like the thunder..." he choked, lips quivering in fear.

	Kimmy scooted beside him and rubbed his upper back in a circle. "I used to be ascared of the thunder, too, but I'm not anymore."

	"How did you stop being ascared?"

	"My daddy used to sing me a song whenever it rained. It's called Rain, Rain, Go Away. It always made me feel better when we sang it together."

	"I know that song."

	"Wanna sing it? It might make you feel better."

	"I guess so."

	"Rain, rain, go away," Kimmy began.

	"Come again another day," Max finished.

	"Rain, rain, go away."

	"Come again some other day."

	"All the children want to play.

	"In the meadow by the hay."

	"Rain, rain, pour down."

	"But not a drop on our town."

	"Rain, rain, go away."

	"Come again another day."

	"If you don't, I will say."

	"Rain, rain go away."

	"Rain, rain, go away."
    
	"Come again some other day."
    
	"We want to go outside and play."
    
	"Come again some other day."

	"Rain, rain, go away."
    
	"Come again some other day."
    
	"If you don't, I don't care."

	"I'll pull down your underwear!" They both snickered at that part.

	"Feel better?" Kimmy asked.

	"A little," Max replied, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "You probably think I'm a big scaredy cat, huh?"

	"Of course, I don't. My teacher said everybody gets ascared sometimes."

	"You, too?"

	"Yeah."

	"When?"

	Kimmy thought about that question. She was not one who could be scared easily. "I was ascared when you almost got hit by that car."

	"But you came along and 'rescood' (rescued) me. That was really brave."

	"But I was ascared then, too."

	"Of what?"

	"I don't know, I just... I guess I was ascared that you would get ranned over." She looked down at the bed. "I like you and I don't want to see you get hurt."

	"Well, you saved me anyway, so that was still brave." 

	"Thank you," Kimmy smiled.

	Max returned her smile. "Thank you for making me feel better."

	"Anytime. Are you still ascared of the thunder?"

	Max looked at the window. It was full of wiggly, transparent sheets of water, thanks to the rain. A small rumble of thunder came from outside. Max flinched a bit and looked at Kimmy.

	"Yes."

	"Don't worry, you'll get better one day. I was ascared for a really long time, too."

	Another blast of thunder. This time, Max didn't flinch. Kimmy, on the other hand, jumped and hit her head on the underside of the table.

	"Ow!" Her hand went to the top of her head and rubbed it.

	What started out as a smile, and then went to a snicker, became a great deal of laughter for Max. Kimmy put her hand down and opened her mouth wide in mock horror. Leaning closer, she jammed her fingers into the boy's underarms. Giggly madly, Max fell on his back, his head poking out from under the table. Holding onto her wrists, he attempted to pull her hands off, but she just attacked his ribs.

	"Kimmy...! Stop!" Max laughed. His light-skinned face was turning red.

	Kimmy smiled and continued tickling her friend.

	Max's hands reached up to Kimmy's underarms and tried to tickle them, but she showed no reaction, even when his fingers went inside her wide sleeves. He went for her ribs and belly, but that didn't work, either. Still squirming under his friend's assault, he could only think of one more spot. Kimmy was sitting on her knees, wearing no sneakers or slippers. Laying on his side, Max slipped around her and wiggled his fingers on the girl's bare right foot.

	Kimmy laughed goofily, momentarily ceasing her attack. That was all Max needed to get closer and tickle the soles of both of her feet.

	"Max, no!" Kimmy tittered, falling on her stomach, then rolling onto her back.

	Max would focus on one foot with both hands, then go to the other. The girl snickered, kicking her legs wildly. She offered no retaliation, squirming as Max held her left ankle and tickled her foot. As his face regained its original color, her face went crimson. Her breath shortened as she heaved and squealed, twisting her upper body.

	Finally, Max stopped tickling Kimmy and laid down beside her. The kids remained under the table, catching their breath. The thunder was long forgotten.

