Amara was rushing across campus, her mind preoccupied with the presentation she had to give for Professor Hart's class. She had been thinking about it all day, and the closer she got to the building, the more her nerves started to get the best of her. The man was a walking pressure cooker—volatile, unpredictable, and never afraid to make his students feel the heat.
The sound of approaching footsteps snapped her out of her thoughts, but it was too late to dodge the downpour that suddenly began. The first drops fell lightly, but within seconds, the rain turned into a torrential downpour.
"Of course this is happening now," Amara muttered to herself, cursing under her breath as the rain soaked through her jacket almost immediately. She tried to find shelter, but the nearest building was still a good distance away.
As she quickened her pace, she saw him—Kieran—standing by the door of the student building, arms crossed, watching her with an almost amused expression. Rain had darkened his shirt and his usually neat hair stuck flat against his forehead, yet he looked completely unbothered by the weather.
"Not going to run for cover?" he called out over the rain.
Amara groaned, flustered. "What do you think? Of course I am!"
Kieran raised an eyebrow as she tried to pick up the pace, but the slick pavement made it difficult to maintain any speed. With a resigned sigh, he stepped out into the rain to meet her halfway.
"I hope you didn't plan on staying dry," he said.
Amara rolled her eyes but followed, knowing it would be a struggle to make it across the courtyard alone. The rain was heavy and unrelenting. She slipped on the wet ground but caught herself at the last moment.
"You okay back there?" he called out.
"I'm fine!" she shouted back, though her soaked clothes and squelching shoes begged to differ.
"Typical," Kieran said with a slight laugh. "C'mon, it's not that bad. You might even enjoy it. A little rain never hurt anyone."
She wasn't sure about that as water trickled down her spine. Still, running through the storm with someone beside her made it feel less like a disaster and more like a scene from one of those strange, unforgettable college memories.
They reached the nearest building, ducking under the awning, both of them dripping wet and out of breath. Amara shook her head and wrung out her jacket, casting an incredulous glance at him.
"That was insane," she muttered, but there was a small, reluctant smile on her face.
"You didn't think you'd get through the semester without a little chaos, did you?" he replied, eyes gleaming with amusement.
"You mean drowning in chaos?" she said.
Kieran chuckled, and for a second, they both laughed—uncontrolled and breathless from the run and the absurdity of it all.
"Well," he said, still grinning, "now you've got the rain to blame for your presentation problems."
Amara groaned again. "Ugh, don't remind me." She dug into her bag and pulled out a soggy piece of paper, frowning at it like it personally offended her. "I'm really not looking forward to Professor Hart's class."
Kieran's eyes flicked to the paper. "Wait, is that for Hart's assignment?"
She nodded, defeated. "Yeah. And I have no idea how to make this presentable."
"Why don't you just ask him?" Kieran asked.
"Are you serious?" Amara blinked at him. "He'd bite my head off before I got halfway through the question."
Kieran smirked. "Sounds like you could use some help then. I've done his assignments before."
Amara looked at him, her expression skeptical. "Yeah, and you've also survived his wrath. Do you think you could, I don't know, give me some tips on how not to get yelled at?"
Kieran let out a small chuckle. "I guess I could give you a few pointers." He glanced at the paper in her hand again. "But don't expect me to hold your hand through the whole thing."
"I wouldn't dream of it," she muttered, her voice heavy with sarcasm, but she appreciated the offer.
Kieran took a moment to think. "Okay, here's the deal. Hart doesn't care about how you do the presentation as much as he cares about how important it sounds. He's all about making things seem serious. You can't just stand up there and talk about whatever. You have to give it weight."
Amara nodded, taking in every word. "Got it. Make it sound important."
"Exactly," Kieran said, his eyes scanning the rain as if weighing whether they should head inside or stay out. "Make sure you add some bold statements to keep him interested. But make sure you back them up with something substantial. He loves that."
She stared at him for a moment. "You actually sound like you know what you're talking about."
"I always do," he said with mock arrogance.
Amara gave him a smirk. "Thanks. I owe you."
"Just don't cry if he roasts you anyway," he added, turning toward the door.
"No promises."
Amara felt strangely comfortable with the banter they'd shared in the rain, though she wasn't sure whether it was just because they had to fight against the downpour together or something more.
And for once, Amara felt like maybe things weren't as bad as they seemed—at least not with Kieran around.
Nia slumped onto her bed, sighing dramatically as she stared at the untouched instant ramen cup beside her. Just as she reached for her phone, it buzzed.
Cousin Mira. Ugh.
She picked it up with caution. "If this is about that skincare MLM thing again, I swear—"
"Relax," Mira cut her off. "I need a favor. A small one."
Nia raised an eyebrow. "The last 'small favor' nearly got me chased by your stalker ex."
Mira laughed lightly. "This is different. I have a blind date tonight, and I can't go."
"And?"
"I need you to go in my place. Just meet the guy, have a drink, and make an excuse to leave. He's harmless."
Nia sat up straight. "You want me to impersonate you?"
"Not impersonate—represent. There's a difference."
Nia gawked. "Mira, you're thirty! If he's around your age, he's practically ancient!"
"Are you mocking me?" Mira's voice sharpened.
Nia held up her hands. "No, no! Just saying if he's your age, that's old for me. You know I like them young, a little stupid, and preferably with dimples."
Mira groaned. "Nia."
"I'm serious," Nia said, suddenly thoughtful. "I want to start dating properly, like a decent man, not... go replacing someone on a date like I'm some spare tire."
There was a pause. Then Mira said, "Okay. Go meet him. If he turns out to be decent, try dating him seriously. Problem solved."
Nia opened her mouth, then closed it. "That's not how this works."
Mira's voice dropped into a smug tone. "Nia. Darling. You owe me."
"For what?" Nia snapped.
"For that time I didn't tell your mom about you sneaking out to that midnight party in heels and a crop top."
Nia groaned. "You wouldn't."
"Oh, I would."
"This is blackmail."
"This is family."
"I'm reminding you that you owe me. I'll send the time and location. Wear something cute. Bye."
The call ended before Nia could respond.
She groaned into her pillow. "This better not be another dentist in disguise."