She walked home over the wet and grainy streets, through the rough part of town. Her heels ground into the slick gravel, and she winced. The boys walking on the other side of the street whistled at her. Their eyes roamed over her body, and she turned away, head down. As she walked quickly through the streets, you could tell she was not from here. She walked with a certain watchfulness, wary of the ones she met. Distrustful. Suspicious. The rain that had stopped so abruptly hours before now picked up again. She pulled her white hood over her head, and continued to walk. The rain became heavier, and she stumbled on some loose rocks washed up from the gutter. Then, suddenly, she was dry. She whipped her head around to see a boy holding an umbrella over her. He himself was soaked. He looked at her openly. “You don’t have to do that.” She said. “It’s okay.” He muttered. They walked in silence for a minute or two. “Where are you going?” He suddenly blurted out. She was taken by surprise after all the silence, but composed herself and answered “I’d rather not say.” “You’re very pretty, you know.” He said. She blushed. “Thanks.” Then her shoe caught, and she fell. He reached over quickly, and caught her. She looked up at him. He looked down at her. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” He said. “Okay.” She said.