Chapter Nine
Aurora
The rain wasn’t falling, it was crashing.
Sheets of it spilt from the sky, pounding against the pavement so hard it blurred the world into streaks of grey.
Umbrellas bloomed open, cars pulled up sleek and warm, engines purring as doors swung shut and laughter slipped away into the storm.
One by one, they disappeared, friends, couples, classmates. All of them. And then there was me.
The last girl standing at the entrance, backpack strap digging into my shoulder, staring at the wall of water between me and the street like it was alive. Helpless.
My shoes would soak through in seconds, my notes ruined. I thought about running, about braving it, but my legs stayed frozen. Because of course… of course I’d be the one left behind.
As I took a deep breath, ready to sprint, make a run for it, I felt a buzz in my back pocket. My phone. I moved back just a little to make sure the rain didn’t drop on my phone before pulling it out.
Silverwood Girlies?
Jennie: Hey, Aurora. It’s pouring down, you home?
Layla: Yeah, we’re worried.
Aly: Need a ride? I’ll swerve back.
I felt a small tug at my lips as I read the messages. From a group chat I was in. The first-ever group chat I got invited to. Jennie must’ve invited me since she was the only one who had my number. Still… it was nice.
Me: I’m fine. You girls get home safely.
Layla: We’re fine, but you… do you have a way back?
Jennie: And God, please don’t walk or I’ll scold you.
Aly: Oh? That’s not good.
A short chuckle left my lips as I read that.
Me: I won’t. I promise.
Jennie: Good. Text us when you get home.
Me: I will.
Aly: Right away. Don’t sit down first, text first.
Me: Okay, I’ll do just that.
I placed my phone back in my pocket and looked up at the horrendous view in front of me. I promised not to walk home and worry them. What do I do now?
“Hey.”
I turned, startled, and blinked at the unfamiliar face behind me. He had the kind of smile that came easily, like he’d practised it a thousand times without even meaning to. Bright, warm, unbothered by the storm hammering against the world outside.
“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked, jingling his car keys like it was nothing.
I shook my head, clutching the strap of my bag tighter. He nodded once, not prying, not pushing. Just… moving past me toward the steps. I moved aside, assuming he’d run for it.
But then, he shrugged his jacket off and dropped it over my head. The weight of it, the sudden smell of soap and faint cologne, caught me off guard.
Before I could even process it, he was gone, sprinting out into the rain. I stood frozen, fingers gripping the fabric tightly over my head, my heart confused.
Was this… for me? To keep? No, probably just so I wouldn’t be drenched when I went home.
Three minutes later, a car pulled up to the kerb, headlights cutting through the storm. The window rolled down, and that same easy grin flashed back at me.
“Get in!” he shouted over the rain.
My grip around the jacket got tighter as it hit me. The jacket wasn’t so I could run home. It was so I could make it to his car, dry.
I didn’t move. I just stood there, frozen. My chest rose and fell too fast, my heartbeat thrumming in my ears louder than the rain.
He leaned an elbow casually against the window frame, smile still there. Not mocking, not rushed. Just… patient. Like he had all the time in the world to sit there and wait for me to decide. And that was what made me move. Patience.
One step. Then another. My hand trembled as I tugged the passenger door open, sliding in with the jacket still draped over me like a shield.
“Hi,” he said again, softer this time, like it was just for me. His smile didn’t falter, not once. For a second, I almost smiled back. But I just looked away, pulling the jacket down to my lap.
The car was warm, a soft hum filling the silence as the rain beat against the windows. My fingers twisted in the edge of his jacket nervously, trying to figure out what to do or even say, if I could even utter it.
He glanced at me briefly before turning back to the road, his smile never once faltering. “You don’t talk much, do you?” he asked gently. Not judgemental, just curious.
Heat rushed to my cheeks, my throat closing immediately, the familiar ache of words clawing up but never making it past my lips.
He chuckled lightly, eyes flicking back to me. “Are you shy?” I shook my head so fast it probably looked ridiculous.
His brows lifted, like I’d surprised him. Then slowly, carefully, his hands left the wheel at a red light, and he signed. Sign? His smile softened, eyes meeting mine. I can sign.
My breath caught. I stared, lips parted, and for a second I didn’t even realise my fingers were moving until I signed back, shaky, clumsy. You can sign?
His grin widened, bright and easy, as his hands moved with far more confidence than mine. Yeah. My sister’s deaf. I learnt sign for her three years ago when she was adopted into the family. It was so hard but so worth it. Glad I could use it with someone else.
An unfamiliar feeling crept up in my chest, and I tried my best to push it aside as his lips parted to speak again.
“Where do you live? I completely forgot to ask. Not kidnapping you, I promise.” He joked with a small chuckle. A sound that was so low yet soft, enough for me to feel my entire face burning as I collected myself to sign back.
The sterling.
His eyes widened a bit as he quickly turned back to the road. “That building? Seriously?”
I shrugged, hugging his jacket closer. He glanced at me again. Just luck.
He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head like he didn’t believe me, but let it slide. “Just luck, huh?” He spoke as the car slowed down at another red light. His attention then shifted to me.
Don’t look impressed. You attend Silverwood, you probably own a palace.
That made him grin. Wide. He chuckled under his breath and muttered, “A few.”
I gave him a look, one that said exactly. My point proven. I’m here because of luck and a scholarship.
“Scholarship?” His eyebrow raised, voice laced with shock. I nodded once. “To Silverwood?!” He leaned back against the seat, throwing his hand over his heart like he’d just been blessed. “You’re the scholarship girl? Oh my God, what an honour to be in your presence.”
My cheeks warmed instantly, again. It’s like every time he opens his mouth, my body reacts in a way it never does.
His grin stretched wider, like he found my embarrassment more adorable than anything. “You’re basically a genius. They don’t give one away at all. But you? You got one. Wow. Please, tutor me.”
I probably look like a tomato right now, but that didn’t matter. I was curious about something, so I lifted my hand to sign to him again. What do you study?
“Me?” His brows shot up like no one had ever asked him before. “Medicine.”
My lips parted. You’re a genius, too.
That made him laugh, shaking his head. “I guess so. I did skip senior year, but compared to you? Not even close.” He glanced at me with a crooked smile. “What about you? I bet it’s some hardcore brain stuff.”
I hesitated, fingers tightening around his jacket, before finally signing it out. Computational neuroscience. Psychology, math, and neurobiology mixed. I also got in at seventeen.
He slammed his palm against the wheel dramatically. “Ge—fucking—nius,” he said, glancing at me for a second before turning to the road. “Scholarship and skipped senior year? Look at you, one-upping me.”
I turned toward the window, biting my lip, hiding the smile that threatened.
“Don’t even argue,” he said quickly, catching the way my shoulders shook. “Scholarship girl, computational neuroscience girl, got in at seventeen… you’re literally the smartest person I’ve ever had in my car. My IQ just went up by, like, ten points from you breathing in here.”
I pressed my fingers lightly against my burning cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice, but my heart wouldn’t slow down. It was pounding so loud it almost drowned out the rain.
Without even realising, we came to a sudden stop. He parked in front of my apartment building, rain still thundering against the roof of his car. Before I could even lift up his jacket to return it, he spoke first.
“Keep it,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just saved me from drowning out there. “Give it back whenever, or don’t. No big deal.”
My grip tightened around the jacket, and so did my chest. I could feel it again; it just wouldn’t go away. Thank you, my fingers then paused. I never got his name.
He must’ve caught on. “Miles. Miles Miller.” He flashed me a perfect smile. “You?”
Aurora.
“Like the princess.” He chuckled, but he didn’t realise how much my heart was beating right now; it’s going to break my rib cage in a second.
I quickly turned away, placing his jacket over my head again.
“Dry your hair properly tonight, Miss Genius,” he added, voice softer now. Not teasing or joking anymore.
I quickly hopped out of his car, shutting it behind me before running up the stairs, hoping he wouldn’t see me smiling.
I lowered the jacket and turned around. He was still there, leaned down, checking to see if I got in safely. Seeing that I was fine, he smiled, waved, then drove off.
God… is this what it feels like to like someone?
—
I collapsed onto my bed the second I reached my room, Miles’s jacket pressed against me like it was some sacred artefact. It still smelled faintly of rain and laundry detergent, and maybe… him. My fingers curled tighter into the fabric, dragging it closer until my nose was buried in it.
And then I rolled.
Once to the left, once to the right, then back again, like I couldn’t get comfortable, except I wasn’t uncomfortable at all. I was… buzzing. I couldn’t stop the smile that kept spreading across my face, no matter how many times I buried it in the pillow to hide it.
I never smiled like this. Not for people. Not for boys. Not for anyone. Not even to myself.
But he called me Miss Genius. He gave me his jacket. He even told me to dry my hair properly, so I wouldn’t get sick.
I rolled again, laughing quietly into the dark, my cheeks hot in a way they’d never been before. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. I’d known him for less than an hour. I didn’t even know his middle name, or if he liked coffee, or if he hated spiders.
But I knew his smile. I knew the way he waited patiently, never rushing me. And I knew the way my heart wouldn’t stop beating whenever I thought of him.
Was this really what it felt like to like someone? Because if it were, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted it to stop.
I sat up; the jacket slipping into my lap, my smile faltering just enough for reality to catch up with me. My feet dangled off the side of the bed, brushing against the floor, grounding me.
It was nothing. It had to be nothing.
Miles admitted he owned a few palaces. A few. Who even says that casually unless it’s true? He wasn’t just rich; he was born into something I couldn’t even imagine.
He probably had a family name, a future already carved out for him, money stacked so high he’d never have to think about rent or groceries or holding onto an apartment just because it carried a ghost of someone you loved.
Someone like me didn’t deserve someone like him. I didn’t deserve to even like him.
I traced the seam of the jacket with my fingertips, chewing on the inside of my cheek.
He wasn’t for me, and I knew it. No amount of kindness could change the fact that he belonged to a world I would never set foot in.
But still…
It felt nice. For once, a boy didn’t look at me like I was dirt, didn’t belittle me, didn’t twist my silence into something ugly. For once, I didn’t feel like prey.
I didn’t expect anything. I wouldn’t dare.
But I couldn’t stop the quiet hope curling in my chest, the tiny, stubborn want that whispered through me like a secret.
I wanted to see him again.