Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I was working on an entry for a writing contest, which is finally up!! I'd really appreciate it if you could vote for my entry. For those of you who follow my blog, this story will be familiar. You can read the story HERE and vote for the story HERE. If it asks for the password, it's SECRETRADISH. My entry is under the Romance section, and it's called To The Boy Who Stole My First Kiss by Kanani. Retweeting my tweet helps, too!

Now, on to the chapter!

I’m in class, and it’s pouring outside. When I look out the window to see the way those grey clouds hover over the campus, someone’s phone rings, wrapping the room in a melancholy tune played by a lonely guitar. My classmate immediately shuts it off and excuses himself, but that instant is enough to take me back to a time not long ago, when the rain was pouring as much as it is now, and when the radio was playing my parent’s favorite acoustic song: “Daughters” by John Mayer.

My parents always wanted a daughter, but knew it wasn’t going to happen. First of all, my mom had infertility problems. After five years of trying they decided to adopt, which is where Hyung comes in. Then, by some miracle, I was born. They didn’t try anymore after that, because it was wearing my mom out, and my parents were both getting old.

I think of the accident. That song had just come on the radio, and my brother and I were arguing about something that I’ve already forgotten. That’s when it happened. Our car hydroplaned and cut across two lanes of traffic. I don’t recall much after that; the police had to tell me the details. Apparently, we had a head-on collision with an eighteen-wheeler. The truck driver survived, as did my brother and me, but my parents did not.

Ever since then, I stopped writing.

“Your homework is to read pages 218 - 240,” my professor says. “I’ll see you next week.”

We stand up in unison to pack our bags. Since I didn’t bring anything with me, I’m the first to leave the classroom. Although I have biology class in ten minutes, I take a walk instead. I must have moved by muscle memory, because I find myself standing in front of the cafe where I work, and I don’t remember how I got here. I stay outside, however, and raise my face to the rain, allowing it to caress my cheeks and chin as though they were my own tears.

“Jongin?”

I open my eyes to see Dohee. She carries a bright red umbrella in her hand, and an inquisitive look on her face. “Are you going inside?”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I say. “Were you?”

“Yeah, to study. Did you walk all the way over here?” She looks me over. “In the rain?”

I suddenly feel uncomfortable in my wet clothes. “Yeah, it just kind of happened.”

“Do you need an umbrella?”

“Already wet,” I shrug.

“Oh. Right.” She tightens her grip on the umbrella’s handle. “Well, here.” And she leans over to cover my head with the umbrella. “At least you won’t have to get any wetter.”

I stare at her then, at the way her eyes light up behind her glasses, at the way her hair seems to shine crimson in the pale light. She smiles up at me expectantly, and all I can think about is what it would be like to kiss her.

I blame the rain for what I say next.

“You’re like something out of a fairytale,” I say. Startled, she blinks twice in response. “That doesn’t make sense. But I think you’re beautiful.”

“Oh,” she blushes and turns away. “Th - thanks.”

“You’re getting wet,” I say