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My umbrella is small, really only meant to be used by one person. We’ll have to link arms and squeeze closer together to both fit underneath. I open it and extend my arm out to her as casually as I can.

“Here,” I say.

I hold my breath as she wordlessly loops her arm around mine.

At first, Celeste does her best to walk beside me, but that proves to be difficult since she’s almost a head taller than me. We don’t last more than a block before she has to take the umbrella from me and hold it for us instead. It’s uncomfortable at first, but once we find a good way to position ourselves, it’s admittedly cozy and nice, a little refuge while we walk through the cold, rainy city streets.

I hadn’t accounted for how just the warmth of her body pressed against mine would make my heart race. I swallow and do my best to avoid eye contact, even as my body heats up next to hers.

“Do you remember that one time it rained really hard in LA?” Celeste asks suddenly. “It’s one of the few times I remember it raining substantially while we were there for college.”

“Are you talking about the time during our junior year when the entire campus was almost empty, and some professors even canceled class?”

“Yes!” Celeste laughs. “After growing up in Korea, whichhas a wholemonsoonseason, I couldn’t believe my ears when my professor said we should cancel class for the day because of ‘rain and traffic.’”

I groan. “Oh yeah, you got to return home right away. I remember that. Meanwhile my professor stubbornly made us stay for a whole forty-five minutes and only gave up after he realized that more than half the class wasn’t going to show up.”

“We had fun after, though, right?” Celeste asks. “Since I made us Shin Black Ramyun, and we spent the entire rest of the day binge-watching a K-drama together.”

A faint smile plays on her lips at the memory. And before I can stop myself, I’m smiling back at her.

“Yeah. You always made the best ramyun.”

Although I did most of the cooking, the one thing Celeste made really well—her “signature dish,” as we jokingly called it—during college was ramyun. Instead of just using the packets that came with the instant noodles, Celeste would add in a bunch of other fresh ingredients like eggs, green onions, mushrooms, and dried seaweed. We’d always eat it out of the pot with servings of kimchi in our individual bowls. It wasn’t as impressive as thehaejang-gukshe made me more recently, but it was so good that I still make ramyun for myself that way out of habit, eight years later, although I’d somehow forgotten—or maybe I blocked it out—that I first learned how to do that from Celeste.

I’m so lost in thought that I don’t look where I’m going, or at least not until Celeste pulls me toward her.

Whoosh.A car speeds past us, splashing water onto the back of my dress.

I’m pressed against her now, the two of us standing at the edge of the sidewalk underneath my too-small umbrella. We stay there like that for a moment that seems to stretch on for several years, my heart pounding in my chest. It’s nice and warm in her arms, so much so that I can’t help but linger a bit before I step away.

Her eyes still slightly widened, she says, “Joshim-hae,” telling me to be careful in Korean. She tilts her head at my now partially wet dress. “It’s a good thing you live close by.”

I nod. “Guess we both got wet today.”

The comment leaves my mouth before I realize how it sounds. Celeste’s eyebrows shoot up before she quickly turns away so I can’t see her face.

But I see her shoulders shake with silent laughter, all the same.

“Wait, so, you live with two of your friends?” Celeste asks as we walk up the stairs to the apartment. “But they’re not your roommates?”

I wince. I knew this question would be unavoidable. But it doesn’t make me any keener to answer it.

“Yup,” I say. “Technically theyaremy roommates now, since we do live together. And I do pay my part of the rent. But I’m just sleeping on their couch until I can find my own place to live. I used to live with my ex before we broke up.”

“He kicked you out?” Celeste asks. The sudden fury in her voice catches me off guard. “In what world is that fair?”

“The condo is his parents’, unfortunately. And even if we had rented an apartment, I would have still been the one to move out. I can’t afford to live alone in SF. He can, thanks to his family.”

Celeste shakes her head. “Ah, that sucks.”

“Yeah, it’s okay, though. My friends have been very understanding while I get back on my feet. You’ll see when you meet them. They’re nice—”

I open the apartment door, only to find that no one is in the living room.

Desperation creeps into my voice.

“Hello?” I call out, hoping Val and Kiara are in their bedroom.