“Well that vas Hell.” My statistics partner, Tasha, grumbled. Her Russian accent sounded even thicker than normal. She took a couple extra minutes to scribble down some more notes in her notebook. She took her textbook and slammed it shut. Had it been appropriate, I didn’t doubt that she’d have thrown it out the window. Unfortunately, I knew exactly what she’d paid for that book and no sane person would throw roughly two hundred dollars out the window and into the rain.

“You’re telling me. A test over chapters six through nine next week. Can you please just take me out to the courtyard and bury me?”

Tasha quirked an eyebrow at me. “Only if you can bury me along vith you.”

“Done! Now all we need to do is find a shovel.”

“At this time of night? I don’t think ve’ll find one.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re right. Maybe we should just plan on getting together and studying tomorrow afternoon.”

“Fine by me. The library, your place, or mine?” asked Tasha, stuffing her books into her bag.

“I’m cooking the lunch shift at Carmine’s tomorrow afternoon so definitely not my place.” I followed suit and packed my things tightly into my already full bag. Somehow I actually managed to get the straps stretched over the opening. The idea of rain getting into my bag and ruining my books wasn’t all that appealing.

She waited for me to sling my backpack on to my shoulder before walking out the door. We made our way down the stairs, to the front of the classroom building. “If you bring me some of those meatballs from Carmine’s we can study in my dorm. “

“Using me for my food again?”

“I vill provide the drinks,” promised Tasha. She leaned in closer to me, cupping a hand around her mouth and a conspiratorial glimmer in her eyes. “The good stuff. None of that toilet water you Americans insist on drinking.”

“Alright, alright. That works for me. Around four-ish?”

“Perfect!”

We turned our attention to the doors. As soon as we stepped out of the building, my heart sank. It had been hard to tell in the classroom but the rain was coming down a whole lot harder than I’d thought. Big, fat rain drops splattered at my feet even standing underneath the awning. Looked like Roger had been right about the rain. I tried, and ultimately failed, to suppress my groan. Tasha shot me a look and held up a simple, black, collapsible umbrella. “Vould you like to borrow my umbrella?” Tasha asked.

I shook my head. “No. I’ll be fine. I think I’ll just catch a cab home tonight.”

“I don’t mind Gen.” Tasha pushed the umbrella closer to my face. I pushed it away again despite the fact that it made her frown. “Take the umbrella Gen. I live here on campus. My dorm’s not far remember?”

“No sense in you paying for my mistake. Besides, I won’t melt. Not made of sugar remember.” I threw a half hearted grin on my face.

Tasha rolled her eyes. “Don’t we all know that?”

I stifled my laughter. I shoved her lightly on the shoulder. “Go back to your dorm Tash. I’m just gonna take a moment and steel myself before I venture out into the torrential downpour.”

“Suit yourself,” Tasha sighed. She popped open her umbrella and headed out to brave the rain.

I watched her walk down the stairs before going back inside to use the city’s taxi app on my phone without running the risk of getting waterlogged. Magic was wonderful but there was something to be said about technology too. It turned what would’ve been a five minute phone call into forty-five seconds worth of poking my screen to request a cab to one of my saved locations. Truly a form of mere mortal magic. Queensmen take note.

Luck actually happened to be on my side. The receipt told me that my cab wasn’t far off and would be at the curb waiting for me in a handful of minutes. My grin died though when I heard the sudden pelting of even heavier rain crashing down on the building. A few minutes of waiting was going to translate into soaked clothes and a potential cold. I didn’t bother to bite back my groan. “Fantastic.”

Unfortunately I knew from experience that if you didn’t appear to be ready when the cab pulled up then you’d lose it one way or another. Without much other option, I pulled my coat a little closer to my neck and went back outside to face my fate. A quick run to the curb and then try to stay dry underneath one of the trees. If I didn’t have a cold before tomorrow it would be a miracle.

“Gen!”

I spun about, freezing midway before stepping past the awning and into the rain. The same boy with pale blonde hair and frumpy university hoodie was standing off to my left. He looked like he’d been through the ringer in the rain. His hair was plastered to his face and dripping. The gray of his hoodie had varying splotches on it from where it was still drying. I was also fairly sure he hadn’t been standing there when I’d first come out of the building with Tasha. I wasn’t that oblivious.

“Can I help you?” I asked. I cast a quick glance towards the street. I really didn’t want to be rude but if this kid made me lose my cab there would be Hell to pay.

“What do you mean ‘can you help me?’” he repeated. He reeled back and blinked like I’d said something completely off the wall nuts. He shook his head and pressed his hand over his chest. “Don’t you recognize me? It’s me… Colin!”

“From where? You’re not in any of my cooking or business management classes. Did we share one of those dumb elective courses or something last year or something?”

Judging from the look on his face I’d missed the mark… by a lot. I winced at the hurt and shocked look on the boy’s, Colin’s, face.

“No! That’s not it. We met a long time ago,” he said emphatically, reaching for my hand like he was going to pull me closer to him. I drew back a step immediately and gave him a warning glare.  This Colin boy, whoever he was, might think he knew me well enough to call me by my nickname and touch me. However, I definitely didn’t know him well enough for that.  I couldn’t even remember where I’d seen him before.  Colin froze, hand still in front of him. He let it fall to his side slowly. “I’m sorry,” he sighed and stepped forward. “This isn’t how I wanted to start this conversation. Can I try again?”