The rain returned on a Thursday afternoon sudden and heavy like it had been waiting for its cue all week The first thunder cracked during class and everyone looked up from their notebooks I felt that same rush I couldn’t explain half excitement half memory The sound of it against the windows pulled me somewhere else

By the time the bell rang the hallway was full of umbrellas opening like small explosions of color Most of them were black or gray but I saw the flash of yellow near the gate and my heart just knew Ethan was there He was standing by the bike rack the same umbrella in his hand still bent on one side water dripping from the edge He saw me and grinned said guess it’s your kind of weather again

I walked over pretending to be calm but my pulse felt faster than the rain He tilted the umbrella toward me said we can share if you don’t mind getting a little wet I said it wouldn’t be fair you’ll get soaked He said it’s fine I’ve been worse

We started walking toward the station the air cold and alive The rain came down harder the umbrella struggling to keep up The space between us was small too small really my shoulder pressed against his arm and neither of us moved away He talked about how the coach canceled practice and how maybe the rain saved him I laughed said maybe the weather just likes you He said no maybe it likes you

When we reached the crosswalk the wind flipped the umbrella again he tried to fix it but it bent back even worse We both burst out laughing standing there in the middle of the downpour cars splashing water at our shoes He said it’s officially useless now and I said then we should just run for it

We ran the last block both of us soaked shoes squishing hair sticking to our faces When we finally stopped under the awning of a convenience store he was breathing hard water dripping from his chin He looked at me and started laughing again louder this time like he couldn’t stop I started laughing too because it felt easier than speaking

When the laughter faded the silence that followed felt strange soft but full of something I couldn’t name He looked at me for a long second his eyes dark and clear the streetlight making small gold sparks in them I wanted to say something anything but the words wouldn’t come out

He reached out then just a small motion brushed a drop of rain from my cheek His fingers lingered too long and I forgot how to breathe He said you’re freezing I said so are you He smiled said guess we’re even

We stayed there until the rain slowed down people passing by giving us curious looks We didn’t move just kept watching the puddles form and fade under the flickering light The yellow umbrella leaned against the wall beside us broken for good maybe but still bright

He said do you think it’s weird how the same rain can feel different every time I said maybe it depends on who you’re standing next to He said then I guess I like this one best

When it finally stopped he looked up at the clearing sky said looks like it’s done for today I said maybe for now He nodded then added see you next rain and for some reason it sounded like a promise and a warning at the same time

On the walk home I kept thinking about his hand against my face the warmth of it still there even as the air grew cold The city smelled like wet pavement and something sweet maybe lemon maybe just the memory of him

At home I hung the umbrella near the door water still dripping from its edges It looked even more broken than before but I couldn’t throw it away because somehow it felt like part of us like proof that the rain had chosen to come back