Rain by Rachel

The last class of the afternoon ended a long time ago. Most people had already left the cafeteria.

Half of the old campus had been torn down, but the row of camphor trees was still standing. Under the trees, three rusty bicycles were parked, rainwater gathered in their baskets, dead leaves floating on top.

He was standing under the leftmost tree. His school jacket was unzipped, and he was spinning an unwrapped lollipop between his fingers.

Shen Ting saw him from across the field right as the rain stopped. The sky was still gray, clouds hanging low. The air smelled like wet dirt and camphor leaves. He glanced at her, didn't move, just stayed there.

Shen Ting walked over. Her canvas shoes squeaked on the soaked track with every step.

"How long have you been waiting?"

"Not long." Jiang Fang stuffed the lollipop into his jacket pocket. "Let's go."

No question about where they were going. No mention of a destination either. They just walked side by side, one fist's distance apart. The puddles on the ground reflected Jiang Fang's shadow. Shen Ting stepped on it. He didn't say anything.

The line at the cafeteria was long. They took the back path. By the wall stood a row of old bike sheds, raindrops drumming on the metal roofs. A few dusty electric scooters were parked underneath. Jiang Fang stepped inside and leaned against the wall. He pulled the lollipop from his pocket, unwrapped it smoothly, and popped it into his mouth.

"You're a guy. Why do you always eat strawberry flavor?" Shen Ting asked.

Jiang Fang paused mid-bite, looked up, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "What's it to you?"

Shen Ting didn't answer. Jiang Fang moved the lollipop to his other cheek, making a small bulge.

"What's it to you"—he'd been saying those words for a year. Ever since that evening in their first year of high school, every time Shen Ting caught him doing something, that's what he said.

The first time was in an alley. It had been raining hard that day. Shen Ting was walking home from tutoring under her umbrella when she saw Jiang Fang crouched by the wall, completely soaked, holding a broken lollipop in his hand, trembling. It wasn't from the cold. He'd just been in a fight.

There was a cut on his lip. The blood had dried into a dark red streak running from his chin to his collar. His left cheek was swollen, and there was a bruise near his eye. His knuckles were scraped raw, mixed with mud. It looked like it hurt.

He looked up and saw Shen Ting. His eyes were fierce, like a stray dog's.

"What are you looking at?"

Shen Ting walked over and held her umbrella above his head. The rain hit the umbrella—tap, tap, tap—loud.

He didn't speak. She didn't speak either. She crouched down, holding the umbrella over him while her own shoulder stayed out in the rain.

They stayed like that in the narrow alley for a long time. Long enough that Shen Ting's arm started to ache, the umbrella tilted, and rainwater ran down Jiang Fang's shoulder.

Eventually, he stood up. He took the umbrella from her hand and tilted it back toward her, covering her completely. The rain poured down on him instead. He glanced at the name tag on her school uniform, then turned and walked away.

The next day at school, Jiang Fang kicked the back of her chair. Shen Ting turned around and glared at him. What's his problem? I shouldn't have helped him yesterday. Ungrateful. she thought.

He had a lollipop in his mouth, the corner of his mouth turned up.

"What are you doing?" Shen Ting asked.

He didn't answer, but his eyes seemed to say: What's it to you?

That day after school, there was a strawberry lollipop in Shen Ting's desk.

it was quiet in the bike shed. The rain had started again, soft and thin, tapping on the metal roof like someone drumming far away. Jiang Fang leaned against the wall, biting his lollipop. Shen Ting stood beside him, watching the gray sky outside the shed.

"The message you sent yesterday," Shen Ting started. "What time did you send 'Are you here?'"

"Around eleven."

"I replied at two."

"Yeah."

"You're not going to ask where I was?"

Jiang Fang took the lollipop stick out of his mouth and tossed it into the trash can in the corner. It landed perfectly. "You wouldn't tell me even if I asked."

Shen Ting smiled. Jiang Fang looked at her. He didn't say anything, but he didn't look away either.

The rain outside got heavier. Wind blew in, carrying the smell of water and camphor. Jiang Fang's jacket puffed up with the wind. Shen Ting reached over and tugged his sleeve.

"What?"

"Your sleeve is wet."

"From the rain." He looked down, then back at her. "What's it to you?"

Those words again.

Shen Ting let go. She didn't answer. He didn't ask again.

Sometimes Shen Ting felt like this was how they worked. When Jiang Fang said "What are you looking at," she actually looked away. When he said "What's it to you," she stopped talking.

But the next day, there was always a strawberry lollipop in her desk. Jiang Fang's English homework was always handed in on time. After school, he was always waiting under the camphor trees, lollipop in his mouth.

No one knew what they were to each other. Even they didn't know.

Someone ran past outside the bike shed, splashing water. Jiang Fang cursed and instinctively shielded Shen Ting. Her pants still got wet.

Shen Ting didn't move. Jiang Fang didn't move either.

The rain was coming down harder now, pounding on the metal roof. The whole shed seemed to shake, the sound so loud she could hear her own heartbeat.

"Let's go," Jiang Fang said. "If we wait any longer, we won't make it back."

"Yeah."

Jiang Fang quickly pulled off his jacket and held it over both their heads. He grabbed her wrist with the other hand, pulling her closer. "Lower your head," he said.

Shen Ting moved half a step toward him, her head just brushing against the jacket.

The jacket covered them. The sound of rain suddenly became muffled. She could hear her own heartbeat, and his too, mingled together, impossible to tell apart.

They ran like that across the field, past the row of camphor trees, past the wet cement ground. The jacket wasn't big enough. Both their shoulders got soaked. But the space above their heads stayed dry.

They reached the alley entrance before Jiang Fang let go of her wrist. He draped the wet jacket over his shoulder, catching his breath. His hair was plastered to his forehead, water dripping down.

Shen Ting was breathing hard too. She looked down at her wrist—a red ring was already forming.

"You run too slow," Jiang Fang said.

"You pulled too hard."

He looked at her for a moment, didn't say anything. He wrung out his jacket, water pouring onto the ground.