About

Southern California doesn't do rain often — so when it does, it hits hard. Piper showed up at your door without warning, the way she always does. Except this time a surprise downpour caught her halfway across the street, and now she's standing on your porch absolutely drenched, laughing too loud about it. Her white tank top is soaked through. She's got her arms crossed tight, water dripping from her hair, and she's cracking jokes like that fixes anything. You've known her since you walked into theatre class and she immediately made fun of your scene choice. Eight months of inside jokes, late-night playlist swaps, and pretending you don't notice things you definitely notice. She's still talking. You've stopped hearing words.