First off, yes, the title for this fanfic was inspired by Hayley Westenra's song "Summer Rain." I was listening to it last week and couldn't help thinking how it suited the fanfic I was writing! It's a great song. :)

Second…wow. I never thought I would write a fanfic about Digory and Polly. I always liked other characters better, such as Eustace and Jill, and Cor and Aravis. But I was rereading the Magician's Nephew the other day, and something stuck out about Digory and Polly––they were such opposites, but they were the greatest of friends. So I started to write a little oneshot, but now it's turning out to be a multi-chapter fanfic. And just so we're all on the same track, Digory is seventeen in this fanfic, and Polly has recently turned sixteen. Anyway…here is the first chapter, and I hope you enjoy.

Something in the air was different.

Polly could feel it. From the second she'd followed Digory outside, it had felt different. Maybe it was the taste of the cool air upon her tongue, or the slapping touch of the tall grass blades that scratched her skin. Or maybe it was the unspoken tension between her and Digory.

It was late June. Polly had gone to stay with her friends for the summer, following her usual routine. She'd arrived just a few days ago. Usually, she and Digory would rush off to explore the woods or fish by the creek. So far, they'd sat around idly, talking and playing chess. It was like there was this space between them, but Polly wasn't sure what it was. She liked Digory a good deal and wanted to regain the closeness of their former friendship––and maybe a little more.

The morning had started when Digory suggested they take a walk before breakfast. It was cool outside, cool and misty. Fog scampered around Polly's skirt as she picked her way through the moist grass.

"Your mother's watching us," Polly observed, not knowing what else to say. They were upon the edge of the yard now, still in sight of the looming Kirke house. Mrs. Kirke peered out from behind a curtain from a second-story window. Her vague shadow clung to the glass, making Polly wonder what she was doing.

Digory turned his head just slightly to see that it was true. "Of course she is. She thinks we fancy each other." He laughed as if to say how ridiculous it was.

Polly felt her face darken, and words seeped out of her before she could control them. "You think it's nonsense, of course."

"I jolly well do, you silly girl! I told Mother that we were friends and nothing more."

Frustration ran through Polly's bones. "When are you going to grow up, Digory?"

"Grow up! Whatever do you mean?"

"I'm a girl. What's it going to take for you to realize that? We're both getting older. Someday we won't want to run through the woods and pull up weeds for fun and dunk each other in mud balls."

She watched as Digory's face fell and he spoke with a kind of franticness. "You mean you don't want to come here each summer? All you care about now is jewelry and fancy dresses and perfume and all that rot about people getting engaged? That's mean, Polly."

"That's not what I mean," she said hurriedly. "I do like nice things––being dressed up all nice and feeling pretty, and wearing jewelry and going to parties and events. I enjoy it. But––Digory––you don't understand. We've been the best of friends. And now we're both almost adults, and––Digory––sometimes feelings change as we grow older––" She broke off abruptly, shocked at all the talking they'd just done. She needed to be careful what she said!

"I knew it! You don't want to come visit me anymore. You want to do your own thing. I do wish you'd said so in the first place."

"Oh, shut up and stop interrupting! You don't have a clue, do you? That's not what I'm trying to say. Of course not." Polly stumbled for the right words.

"Then what? For heaven's sake, just say what you mean!"

Polly groaned and put her face into her hands. "Oh. Oh, goodness. I don't even know how to put it into words."

"I'm lost, Polly. If you're done, then I'm going to head inside."

"No, don't!" Polly grabbed Digory's arm and pulled him towards her. He drew up, surprise in his eyes. Polly leaned forward and kissed him––a shy, tender kiss on the lips. It lasted for a few seconds before she drew away, feeling blissfully happy but like a fool.

Digory stood motionless, his mouth forming the word, "What?"

She took another step back, blushing. "Silly boy," she muttered. "You never were good with seeing through a girl's words, were you? Always have to have it straight-out and simple."

Digory rubbed his neck, eyes wide and jaw still open, and finally choked out another sentence. "What'd you do that for?"

"Because, I happen to 'fancy' you, as your mum says. Don't stare so. It's hard enough for me to believe such a thing could happen." Despite her sharp words, Polly found herself withdrawing and wrapping her arms around her body. Was Digory mad at her for being so forward? Before, he'd always appreciated her plain way of seeing things.

He continued to stare, as if in disbelief. His brow crinkled as he gave a little half-shake of his head.

"Oh, so you don't like me then! Well have it your way!" Polly veered sharply and stormed her way through the thick grass. Tall blades slapped against her legs as she stomped into the Kirke mansion and fled down the hallway towards her room. A few stray water droplets trickled off the edge of her skirt––melting remnants of the morning mist that had enshrouded them. Her head started to ache.

"Polly."

Mrs. Kirke was suddenly standing there, a sweet smile trailing across her face. "You're in early, dear."

Not caring for small talk, Polly cut straight to the point. "You were watching from the window," she said accusingly before she let her voice soften. She had to ask, she must know. "Did you see?"

The older woman's eyes twinkled, the only outward sign of her pleasure. "It was very daring of you."

"Doesn't matter now anyway," Polly grumbled. Why had she been so quick to take action, to kiss him? She'd spoiled everything in a single moment, without thinking at all. "He doesn't care for me in such a way."

"Digory?" Surprise flashed in Mrs. Kirke's eyes. "Don't judge so quickly. I think you'll find he does."

"Maybe he does, but he's too stupid to realize it." Polly, so caught up in her misery, didn't even have time to regret her harsh words spoken in the presence of her hostess.

"If he's so stupid, then why do you love him?" Mrs. Kirke pushed a mug of simmering hot cocoa into the distraught girl's hands. Polly hadn't even noticed her holding it earlier, but she was thankful and took a long sip.

"He's Digory," was the first thing she said once she'd downed a satisfactory amount of the warm drink. "He's practical and supportive even when I'm being an idiot or trying to get my own way. We've been friends as long as I can remember and we've put such an amount of trust in each other. We're complete opposites and we argue often, but it doesn't matter because the next day we've forgiven each other and drawn closer and become the best of friends. I don't understand it––we're so different and we hit each other's nerves so often––but I can't help being in love with him."

During her entire speech, Mrs. Kirke had been smiling, but now understanding flowed from her eyes at this last sentence. "That's what love is, Polly."

"That's the way it was for you and Mr. Kirke?" Polly drew back apologetically when she realized she was asking a personal question. Curse her flying tongue! She recalled, too, that her defense of Digory sounded suspiciously like what one of her love-struck classmates would swoon over back in London.

The lady laughed. "Not exactly like that, but yes––yes. It was always a mystery to me how the two of us came to be together."

"So you think Digory's feelings will change?"

"In time, I know they will. He thinks highly of you, and he's never made that a secret."

"Highly!" she muttered. "A friend. A playmate, that's all he considers me. But that's not the worst part."

"What is, then?"

"He's been my best friend for so long," Polly confessed miserably. "I've longed to be more than a 'best friend' for ever so long, but just being friends brings me the greatest joy in the world. And now––I've been such a fool––and after that stupid little kiss––why, now we'll never be able to go back to the friendship we used to have!"

"I think you're imagining the worst, Polly," Mrs. Kirke said mildly.

"No: it's plain truth, that's all. We'll never be able to go back to that trusting friendship. All because I ruined it with a kiss, thinking that he returned my feelings!" And here Polly, becoming too worked up to control herself, flung herself into Mrs. Kirke's arms and sobbed, heedless of the cocoa that she had sent flying to the floor.

Now, truth be told, Mrs. Kirke very much did wish for her son to fall in love with Polly. She was not the kind of woman who would try to interfere with such personal matters and take charge her own way, but she did believe that if she pressed here and there a little, she might be able to assist in helping her son see the best way. So it was that she helped Polly up to her room, brought another cup of cocoa, and suggested that the girl should rest for a bit.

Polly protested at first, but when Mrs. Kirke insisted firmly, she drank the cocoa and snuggled under the covers, saying that she did feel slightly chilled from being outside and that perhaps sleep would do her good after all. Once this was done, Mrs. Kirke marched through the hallway, down the stairs, and into the library. Digory was there, studying a science book. She took a deep breath. She had to confront her son.

Please review; I would appreciate any comments or constructive criticism to help me improve my writing. Hopefully the next chapter will be up in about a week.