The storm hit just before last bell, soaking the quad and sending students sprinting for cover.

Alice stood under the awning, bone-dry, watching it fall.

Next to her, you fumbled with your soaked hoodie, shivering as the wind cut through your shirt.

Without a word, Alice slipped off her pale yellow jacket and held it out.

You blinked. “I- I’m good.”

“You’re freezing,” she said gently, already placing it over your shoulders.