Under The Same Umbrella

When The Rain Breaks

By midweek the campus was buzzing posters for the upcoming intercollegiate fair hung from every wall, and booths were sprouting on the lawn like overnight mushrooms. Mia tried to keep her head down, but whispers followed her like a draft. She caught fragments “Leo…” “payong…” “Andrea…”—each syllable a pinprick.

She and Leo had kept their coffee routine discreet, but somehow people still noticed. Andrea had noticed too. Her texts had shifted from cheerful emojis to clipped reminders about deadlines.

That Thursday afternoon, Mia found herself in the auditorium helping decorate for the fair. The place smelled of masking tape and new tarpaulin. She was balancing on a small ladder when Leo appeared below, steadying it with his hands.

“Careful,” he said.

“I’m fine,” she replied, but her heart fluttered.

When she climbed down, he stayed close. “May gusto ka bang kainin later? Treat kita. Para makabawi ako sa notes mo.”

Mia smiled, about to answer when Andrea’s voice cut in. “Wow. Sweet naman.”

They both turned. Andrea stood a few feet away, holding a clipboard like a weapon. “Tulungan mo naman ako dito, Leo,” she said, not looking at Mia.

Leo hesitated. “Sandali lang"

Andrea’s gaze sharpened. “Ikaw na nga ang bahala diyan,” she muttered, then stalked off toward the stage.

Mia felt her stomach knot. “You should go help her,” she whispered.

But Leo shook his head. “I’m here. With you.”

The simplicity of the statement made her cheeks heat up. She bent down to adjust the tarpaulin, trying to hide the small smile forming at the corner of her mouth.

Later, when the sun had dipped and the campus lights blinked on, the three of them ended up in the same covered walkway. The rain had returned soft, fine drizzle, the kind that clung to your skin without you realizing it.

Andrea stepped in front of them. “We need to talk,” she said, eyes flicking from Leo to Mia. “Both of you.”

Mia froze. Leo stayed calm but firm. “Andrea”

“Don’t ‘Andrea’ me,” she snapped. “I’m not blind, Leo. I see how you look at her. And you” she turned to Mia, voice trembling, “you’re supposed to be my friend.”

Mia swallowed hard. “I never meant—”

Andrea laughed without humor. “You never meant, but here we are.” Her eyes glistened, though whether from rain or tears, Mia couldn’t tell. “Do you know how humiliating it is to watch people talk?”

Leo stepped forward. “Stop. This isn’t about humiliation. Andrea, you and I we’re not…” He trailed off, searching for the least cruel word. “…we’re not together.”

Andrea’s breath hitched. “But we could have been.”

For a moment the three of them just stood there, rain speckling the tiles underfoot. Mia’s heart thudded against her ribs.

Leo’s voice was gentle now. “You’re important to me, Andrea. But not like that.” He turned, looking straight at Mia. “I like her. Not you. I’m sorry.”

The words hung in the damp air. Mia blinked, stunned part exhilarated, part terrified.

Andrea’s expression crumpled. “Fine,” she whispered. “Then don’t expect me to pretend anymore.” She spun on her heel and walked off into the rain, her figure blurring as she merged with the crowd.

Mia stood still, the drizzle cooling her cheeks. “Leo…” she began, but he cut her off with a small shake of his head.

“I should have been clearer before,” he said. “I didn’t want to hurt her. Or you.”

Mia hugged her arms to her chest. “People will really talk now.”

“They already were.” He gave a small, crooked smile. “Might as well give them something real to talk about.”

She looked at him then really looked and saw the exhaustion, the sincerity. “Why me?” she asked softly.

Leo chuckled under his breath. “You still don’t get it? You’re the only one I’ve been waiting under the rain for.”

Something in her cracked open. She reached out, fingers brushing his. He took her hand slowly, like he was asking permission.

The rain picked up, drumming on the tin roof above. Around them, students hurried by with umbrellas, forming a moving wall of color and sound. In their small pocket of space, Mia and Leo stood hand in hand, silent but not afraid anymore.

For the first time, Mia didn’t care who was watching.

That night, lying in bed, she replayed the scene. Andrea’s hurt eyes. Leo’s confession. The weight of his hand in hers. The storm outside had finally cleared, but inside her chest a new weather was forming one that promised both sunshine and more rain, and she wasn’t sure which she wanted more.