We were almost to Jihoon’s apartment when I felt a drop of water land on my face.  I stopped, unsure if it was rain or not.  Jihoon, who was walking ahead, looked over his shoulder.

                “What’s wrong?”

                I opened my mouth to speak but a roll of thunder suddenly interrupted me.  In less than a second, a downpour started.  It was as if Jihoon’s brain was buffering because it took him a moment to react.  His blank expression changed into one of mixed surprise and disgust and I burst into laughter as we were getting soaked. 

                “Run!” he finally yelled, grabbing my wrist.  He let go of me when we were at the front of his building.  As he rushed up the steps, I did a happy little spin and let the cool water rush over me.    

                Jihoon yelled my name and came back out in the rain.  “What the hell are you doing?  Are you crazy?”  He took my hand and held tighter, dragging me into the building.

                “You’re no fun.  Don’t you think the rain feels nice?” I asked as he punched in the security code for the door.

                “You’ll catch a cold,” he replied, opening the door.  We removed our shoes and walked in.  “Mom?  Dad?” he called.  There was no reply.  “They must not be home yet.”

                The inside of Jihoon’s apartment was already warm but he turned up the heater.  I went to the windows, which were slightly foggy from the temperature differences.  I opened one of them and the clean smell of rain invaded my senses. 

                “Why do you like the rain so much?” Jihoon asked disdainfully, draping a towel over my head and putting a set of his mother’s clothing in my hands.

                “It’s nice every once and awhile.  Refreshing,” I answered with a grin.  He rolled his eyes and shook water from his hair. 

                “All it does is make the roads slippery and dirty,” he said.  He cast a glance in my direction and gently pushed me.  “Go change.  My mom will probably take you home when she comes back.”

                “While I’m wearing her pajamas?” I held up what he gave me.

                He smirked and waved me away. 

                A few minutes later, we were lounging on the built-in window seat, mostly dried off.  I listened to the rain fall on the asphalt below and the cars running through the thin layers of water.  Jihoon absently strummed his guitar. 

                I doodled in the fog on the glass, drawing flowers and hearts. 

                “Jihoon,” I murmured, tapping his shoulder and directing his attention to the grumpy mini-Jihoon I made, complete with severely slanted eyebrows and a deep frown.

                He pressed his lips together, a tell-tale sign he was trying not to laugh and glared at me.  He began drawing my likeness, giving me swirls for eyes and drool running down my chin.  I smacked him and he finally laughed, displaying the eye smile that so many girls at school fell for. 

                We sketched classmates and our least favorite teachers, adding horns and exaggerating other features.  We were co-conspirators, snickering and muttering amongst ourselves.  Our breaths added to the fog and we were enveloped by the sound of rain. 

                As we were putting the finishing touches on our representation of a particularly strict math teacher, Jihoon’s phone buzzed with an incoming text.  He seemed to ignore it deliberately.

                “Aren’t you going to look at your messages?” I asked.

                “No.”  The small smile that he had been wearing slipped off. 

                The phone buzzed again.  I caught a glimpse of the name this time – a girl from our class.

                “Maybe it’s important.”

                “It’s not,” he insisted.

                “How are you so sure?”  A stray drop of water fell from a strand of my hair and fell on my collarbone.  It slid down and melted into the cloth of my borrowed shirt.  Jihoon ignored my question, taking his nearby towel and patting my hair with it. 

                “She confessed to me awhile ago, you know,” he said quietly, throwing the towel aside and returning his focus to the window.  Our drawings were fading. 

                I hesitated for a beat.  What would that girl think if she saw me now, curled up beside her crush on a rainy day?  “That’s great.  What did you tell her?”

                He looked me straight in the eyes with an unnerving gaze.  “Aren’t you mad?  Or flustered?  Don’t you feel something after hearing that?”

                “I-I don’t know.  How should I react?” I stammered, caught off guard. 

                He shook his head.  “Forget it.  I told her I couldn’t accept her feelings.”

                “Why?”

                He exhaled against the glass, adding to the fog.  “I like someone else.”

                “Who?”

                Jihoon didn’t reply at first.  He wrote something on the window and I followed his finger as each letter was spelled out.

                I like you. 

                Our gazes met and I suddenly felt too warm.  Maybe that cold was coming on after all.  My heartbeat matched the rhythm of the storm outside.  He leaned closer.

                We kissed, and the sound of rain grew louder in my ears.