Lanterns in the Rain

Chapter Twenty-Six: Piecing Us Together

Monday brought a return to routine—the quiet hum of the school hallways, the shuffling of students between classes, and the occasional burst of laughter from a nearby group. Rae walked through it all with her hood up, her thoughts a step behind her body.

She felt different. Not in an obvious, external way, but inside—like the walls she had so carefully constructed weren't as impenetrable as she thought. Henry had a way of reaching through the cracks, and it left her both terrified and exhilarated.

As she slid into her usual seat by the window in English class, the rain started again, soft and rhythmic against the glass. Rae let her gaze drift outside, her notebook open but untouched.

Henry walked in a few moments later, his presence immediately drawing her attention. He caught her eye and smiled, a small, warm gesture that felt like it was meant just for her. Rae looked away quickly, her cheeks warming.

"Alright, everyone," their teacher said, clapping her hands. "Pair up for this next exercise. You'll be working with your partner to analyze this poem."

A ripple of movement spread through the room as students shuffled into pairs. Rae didn't move, her stomach knotting as she realized she'd likely be left without a partner.

"Mind if I join you?" Henry's voice broke through her thoughts.

She looked up to find him standing beside her desk, his smile tentative.

"Sure," Rae said, trying to keep her voice steady.

He pulled up a chair, sitting next to her as the teacher handed out copies of the poem. Rae stared down at the paper, the words blurring slightly as her heart thudded in her chest.

"So," Henry said, leaning closer to look at the poem, "where do we start?"

Rae cleared her throat, forcing herself to focus. "Um, we could talk about the imagery first. The way the writer uses nature to reflect their emotions."

Henry nodded, his brow furrowing in concentration. "Like the rain being a metaphor for sadness?"

"Exactly," Rae said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

They fell into an easy rhythm, discussing the poem with surprising fluidity. Rae found herself relaxing, the initial awkwardness fading as she realized how naturally they worked together. Henry's insights surprised her—he wasn't just thoughtful; he was perceptive, picking up on nuances she hadn't even considered.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Rae felt a pang of disappointment.

"You're really good at this," Henry said as they packed up their things.

"So are you," Rae replied, glancing at him.

Henry grinned. "Maybe we make a good team."

Rae didn't respond, but her lips twitched upward in a faint smile.

At lunch, Rae sat at her usual spot near the library window, her tray untouched as she stared out at the rain-soaked courtyard.

"Mind if I sit?"

She turned to see Henry, holding his own tray and looking at her with a hopeful expression.

Rae hesitated, then nodded. "Sure."

He sat across from her, his presence filling the quiet space between them. For a moment, they ate in silence, the sound of rain against the glass the only backdrop.

"Do you always sit here?" Henry asked, breaking the quiet.

"Yeah," Rae said, shrugging. "It's... peaceful."

"I get that," Henry said, his voice soft. "Sometimes it's nice to have a place where you can just... be."

Rae looked at him, surprised by how easily he understood.

"Henry," she said after a moment, her voice hesitant, "why do you keep trying with me? I mean, I'm not exactly... easy to figure out."

Henry's smile was gentle. "Maybe that's why. You're not like everyone else. You don't pretend to be someone you're not, and I like that about you."

His words struck a chord deep within her, and for once, Rae didn't try to push them away.

"Thanks," she said softly.

Henry nodded, his gaze steady. "Anytime."

As they sat together, the rain outside softened to a drizzle, the grey sky brightening just slightly. And though Rae didn't say it aloud, she felt a quiet sense of gratitude—for the rain, for the moment, and for Henry.