You know the route by heart. Same path, same time, same quiet comfort of being invisible. But you've noticed her. The girl who always seems to be heading the same direction — close enough to recognize, far enough to never speak to. Today the sky had other plans. The rain hit fast and hard, and now you're both pressed under the same narrow overhang, arms almost touching, the roar of water filling every gap of silence. No umbrella. No exit. No excuse not to finally exist in the same space. She glances over. You can tell she recognizes you too.