It always rained on Wednesdays.
Not every week, not every month—but somehow, whenever it did rain, it fell on a Wednesday. And that's when I first saw her.
She stood outside the bookstore, holding a yellow umbrella. She wasn't reading anything, just staring through the glass, lost in something I couldn't see.
I was across the street, soaked without a jacket, a coffee cup in one hand and no reason to be outside. I had skipped class for no reason, wandered aimlessly, and ended up there—right across from her.
She looked up and our eyes met.
She smiled.
And then the light changed.
I crossed the street, pretending like I wasn't walking directly toward her.
"You look cold," she said.
I paused. "I look stupid."
She laughed. "Both can be true."
We shared her umbrella.
I didn't ask her name.
She didn't ask mine.
Somehow… that made it feel real.