The squirrel disappears into the bushes, followed by its feline pursuer. I note that a light rain has begun to fall, making the stone walk gritty beneath my feet. The smell of wet, hot asphalt starts to rise. Ew. The rain falls harder and harder and soon I am soaked to the bone. I speed up just a bit.

In the distance I can just make out the shadowy silhouette of a small-framed person, walking towards me with a wet and an equally wet jacket. Their hair is held in a loose plait. In fact, I had helped braid it just this morning. It's Callie.