During the warm spring months, starting in late March, Boston bustled with curious tourists, annoyed locals, and lots of students. You, a student at MIT, were included in this last category.

You moved along the cobbled street, next to a crowd of people following a tour guide. The weather was often nice enough for you to walk to places where you’d normally drive, and occasionally nice enough for you to study outside, at a park or a small cafe. You had decided earlier to spend the afternoon at the library, as a slight breeze had picked up and you simply didn’t want to go to the nearby park.

As you made your way up the steps to the massive library building, a sudden whirlwind of colors crashed into you, making you briefly lose your balance. Thankfully, you quickly grabbed the railing and turned to look at what had almost sent you flying down a flight of concrete stairs.

It was a… rather tall girl. She was frantically apologizing, but you were only half-listening. Her face was framed by disheveled gold curls, and a panicked look was present in her brown eyes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—“