Chapter 5: Outside in the Rain

"Alex?" My roommate waved a hand in front of my face, holding a mug of burnt gas station coffee. I blinked, trying to drag myself back to reality.

"If you don’t want to talk, just pretend I never asked."

He gave me that look—half sympathy, half resignation. We’d been through enough breakups to know when to leave a guy alone.

I forced a smile and repeated my excuse: "My dad won’t let me date anyone from out of state, so we broke up."

It sounded even lamer the second time. I forced a shrug, hoping he’d let it go.

It wasn’t even a total lie. My dad once told me—over burgers at Five Guys—that I should date someone who knew the value of a good hotdish, not a trust fund princess from the coast.

My roommate stared. "Alex, I didn’t know you were such a good boy."

He said it like it was a compliment, but we both knew it was just an easy out.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I always listen to my dad."

He let it slide, sighing like he was giving up on a dream he never bought into.

It had started raining outside without me noticing.

The rain beat against the window, smudging the view of the quad and the flickering dorm lights.

Classmates kept knocking on our door, reminding me Wendy was downstairs.

It was like the whole building was in on the drama. Every knock felt like a tiny accusation: coward, jerk, fool.

Annoyed, I went out to the balcony, pulling on an old hoodie. The cold bit through the fabric, my sneakers squeaking on the wet concrete.

As soon as I looked out, I met Wendy’s eyes. My heart clenched.

She was under the streetlamp, hair plastered to her face, jacket soaked. She looked like she belonged in a sad music video.

Even in the dim light, I could see how broken she looked.

The kind of look that makes you want to fix everything, even when you know you can’t.

I started to hesitate, wondering if I should go down and explain.

But then I saw someone holding an umbrella for her.

Sean Nash, of course, standing stiff, determined. The umbrella was tilted almost entirely over her, rain running down his arms.

The comments popped up again.

[Thanks to the backup, the real guy finally got the guts to hold an umbrella for her.]

[Such a scene. Girl, look at the dude you actually like—quit messing with the backup.]

It was like watching a bad TV drama. I could almost hear the cheesy music swell.

My hesitation vanished. I turned back into my room, slamming the balcony door a little too hard.

[Can’t stand the main girl. The real guy’s so sincere, but she tells him to get lost.]

[Just wait for the groveling arc. The colder she is now, the more brutal the heartbreak later.]

I rolled my eyes. Real life shouldn’t work like this.