She has always loved the rain.

She remembered one time when she was little, she was walking home from school that day when she felt the first drop of rain hit the tip of nose, her feet stopped walking and she looked up at the sky. And she watched with fascination as scattered droplets of water fell from the clouds above. People around her hurried their footsteps, trying to escape from the sudden rain but she stood right there on the pavement, without an umbrella or raincoat.

It was her first time feeling the rain and as the drizzle turned heavier, she removed her hands from the pockets of her blue jacket and reached out, palms up. She has seen the rain through the shelter of a glass window at home or when she was in the car, she has seen illustrations and drawings of the rain in the storybooks that sat on her bedside table. She remembered her teachers not allowing the class to go outdoors during playtime because it was raining, she remembered her parents not letting her go out into the backyard to water the small little pot of daises that she was supposed to be in charge of taking care of. She remembered her parents canceling their trip to the amusement park and so on. She had associated the phenomenon with something bad just like how everyone around her seemed to, but now what she didn’t understand was why. The cool droplets of water felt nice on her palms and as they trickled down her face.

It fascinated her how water would just fall from the sky like it would from the showerhead at home.

When she finally got home her mother had chastised her for staying in the rain for so long, hurriedly removing her soaked jacket and proceeded to take off her sneakers while she just stood there by the door, completely drenched with a huge grin plastered on her face.

From that day onwards, she did whatever she could to be out in the rain. She would take the longer route home and despite having to use an umbrella for the sake of the books she carried. She even pulled her beanbag across her bedroom so that it rested against the pale cream wall with the window right above. When it rained she would just lounge on the beanbag, sometimes with a book on her lap or nothing at all. Even the sound it makes against the window was like music to her ears.

She liked the rain even more when she realized that everything looked more beautiful after it, from the flowers in the backyard to the sky.

Whenever it rained, she would be in an exceptionally good mood.

Today was one of those days; just like any rainy days she managed to get a seat by the huge glass window that stretched across the entire left side of the lecture hall. People arrived later than usual, some delayed by traffic while others came through the main building which takes more time but offered the needed shelter from the cloudburst outside. There were new faces since it was the first day of a new semester and she looked away from the door and out the glass window.

Soon the sound of rain was drowned out by the voices of the increasing amount of students in the hall, there were small talks, introductions and complaints from those who either got wet or did not get enough sleep.

She heard a slight commotion that resonated in the room, a sigh rolled off between her lips as she removed her eyes from the scenery to look at the direction the noise was coming from.

It wasn’t hard to spot the source of all the attention, as it came in the form of a boy with a towering height of around 180cm hastily carrying his backpack and a guitar case while managing to m