Chapter 1

The rain didn’t just fall; it hammered against the campus pavement, turning the dusk into a blur of grey mist and oily puddles. Leo sprinted toward the stop, his lungs burning with the metallic tang of cold air and exertion. He was late, soaked through his thin t-shirt, and his worn-out sneakers skidded on the muddy gravel near the curb. He saw her then—a splash of vibrant color against the gloom.

Maya stood under the overhang of the bus stop, looking like a painting that hadn't quite dried. She was checking her reflection in her phone screen, her polished leather boots pristine despite the deluge.

"Leo?" she called out, her voice bright enough to cut through the thunder. "What are you doing out in this? You look like you went for a swim."

Leo slowed to a halt, trying to control his breathing. He tucked his hand behind his back, gripping the handle of a cheap, three-dollar umbrella he’d bought at the pharmacy; one of the ribs was snapped, and he was terrified she’d see it and know exactly how little he had in his bank account. "Just heading the same way," he lied, his voice hitching. "Thought I’d catch the blue line."

He hadn't been heading that way. He had followed her from the library, staying exactly fifty paces behind, just to make sure she didn't have to walk through the dark alone. It was a pathetic sort of chasing, he knew, but the lovesickness was a physical weight in his chest, heavier than his water-logged backpack.

Maya laughed, a sound that made Leo’s stomach flip despite the cold. "Ugh, this rain is so annoying. My boots are going to be ruined, and I have that gallery opening tomorrow."

Leo looked at her, then at his own feet. His toes were numb, and the water was seeping through the holes in his soles. He felt a surge of desperate, teenage gallantry. Without a word, he unzipped his hoodie—his only warm layer for the graveyard shift he had to pull at the campus diner in an hour—and held it out.

"Take it," he said. "It’s dry. Mostly."

"Oh, Leo, no, you’ll freeze," she said, though her eyes lingered on the soft fleece.

"I'm fine. I'm used to the cold." It was a half-truth. He was used to ignoring the cold because he couldn't afford to acknowledge it. He draped the sweatshirt over her shoulders, and for a second, his frozen fingers brushed the warmth of her neck. He nearly choked on the scent of her expensive shampoo—something like vanilla and rain.

The campus shuttle rounded the corner, its headlights cutting through the downpour like twin searchlights. It screeched to a halt, the doors folding open with a hiss of pneumatic pressure. The bus was packed; students were pressed against the glass, a sea of damp parkas and glowing screens.

The driver held up a single finger. "One spot! Only one!"

Maya stepped forward, the oversized hoodie hanging off her frame. She looked back at Leo, and for the first time that evening, the oblivious cheer faded from her expression. She saw him standing there in the mud, shivering in his thin t-shirt, his hair plastered to his forehead. She saw the way he was trying to hide the broken umbrella, and the way he looked at her like she was the only light left in the world.

"Leo," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. She stayed the door with her hand, preventing it from closing. "You're shaking."

"Go on," he said, his teeth beginning to chatter. "Get home."

The driver honked the horn, a sharp, impatient blast. "Last call! Move it or lose it!"

Maya looked at the warm, dry interior of the bus, then back at the boy standing in the storm for her. She reached out her hand, her palm open, waiting. "Are you coming?" she asked, her eyes searching his. "Or are you going to stay out here chasing the storm?"

Leo looked at her hand, then at the crowded bus, then back at the mud at his feet. The engine roared, the driver’s hand moved toward the lever, and Leo took a single, agonizing step forward.

***

**Would you like me to continue the story or explore a different ending for these characters?**