The week after the festival passed like a dream, but reality soon returned with a familiar chill. Autumn rains swept through the town without warning, turning clear skies into heavy grey blankets. On this particular morning, you stared out the window of your classroom, watching the raindrops streak against the glass.
You hadn't brought an umbrella.
"Again?" your best friend leaned over from the seat behind you, chin resting lazily on your shoulder. "You're lucky you've got me."
You rolled your eyes with a soft smile. "You say that like I planned the weather."
They grinned. "Maybe the weather planned to make you fall for me."
Before you could respond, a hand gently placed a folded umbrella on your desk. It was your quiet friend, the edges of their uniform slightly damp from walking in early.
"I brought a spare," they said simply. "Just in case."
You blinked at the umbrella, then at both of them. "Now I have two?"
"No," they said in unison.
Your best friend snatched the umbrella. "You're walking with me. I called it first!"
"Calling it doesn't make it fair," your quiet friend replied calmly, gaze steady. "They should decide."
You looked between them again, heart caught in that familiar tug-of-war. It wasn't just about the umbrella. It hadn't been for a long time.
You swallowed. "I'll walk with... both of you."
They blinked.
"...It's a big umbrella," you added quickly, cheeks warming. "We'll figure it out."
The rain hadn't let up by the time school ended. The streets shimmered with puddles, and the sky stayed low and gray. You stepped out under the umbrella, your best friend on your left, arm looped through yours like it had always belonged there. Your quiet friend stood close on your right, careful to keep the umbrella tilted so the rain wouldn't reach you.
"I like rainy days," your best friend said casually, kicking at a puddle. "Everything feels softer. Slower. Like time wants you to think."
You glanced up. "Think about what?"
Their voice dropped slightly. "Us."
You felt a slight tension on your right side — your quiet friend's grip on the umbrella handle tightening just a bit.
"You don't have to think too hard," they said gently. "We're not rushing you."
"But I am," your best friend admitted. "Because I don't want to be your 'maybe' forever."
Your steps slowed. The sound of the rain filled the silence between the three of you.
"It's not fair," you finally said, staring at the wet pavement. "You both keep doing everything for me. Protecting me. Pampering me. And here I am, standing in the middle like a coward."
"You're not a coward," your quiet friend said firmly.
"But I'm scared," you admitted. "Scared that if I choose... I'll break something that can't be fixed."
They both fell quiet. Only the sound of rain and the occasional passing car broke the stillness.
Your best friend finally spoke. "Then we'll just keep pampering you until you're ready. Even if it hurts."
You turned, surprised at the sudden seriousness in their voice.
"I'd rather be your second choice than not be with you at all."
The quiet friend looked away, a shadow in their eyes. "Same here."
You felt your heart ache. You wanted to protect them both from that pain, but you knew deep down — someday, one of them would have to lose.
You reached out and gently took their hands, fingers cold from the rain.
"I don't deserve either of you," you said quietly. "But I'm still grateful you're here."
Your best friend pulled you into a side hug, drenched shoes squeaking as they leaned close. "You don't have to deserve us. Just let us love you."
The quiet friend stood quietly beside you, watching the rain fall beyond the umbrella's edge. "And let us stay... even if it hurts."
The walk home felt longer than usual, but the silence between the three of you wasn't uncomfortable — it was full of something deeper. Understanding. Longing. Hope.
As you reached the path that split toward your homes, your best friend hesitated. "Tomorrow's Saturday."
You nodded. "Yeah?"
"We were thinking... maybe a movie night?" they offered. "The three of us."
The quiet friend added, "Like when we were kids."
You smiled. "I'd like that."
And as they each walked down their separate roads, you stood alone under the umbrella, watching their silhouettes fade into the misty evening.
For now, you didn't have answers. But you had love — and two hearts willing to wait.