A Stranger in the Rain
1266 Words
POV: Adrian
He had seen her crying before.
Not like this.
Never like this.
Adrian Thorne stood in the rain and watched the girl on the curb clutch his jacket around herself like she didn’t trust warmth unless it was borrowed.
Isla Marquez.
The girl half the campus ignored unless they were using her for target practice.
The girl who sat three rows back in lecture halls and answered questions like she had to earn the right to be heard.
The girl who had once, months ago, found Lina in the library bathroom having a panic attack and sat on the floor with her for forty minutes without knowing whose sister she was.
He had never forgotten that.
He had not intended to know tonight either.
Theo had texted him the post from the anonymous campus account.
Then another text.
THEO: Remington’s trash. Heard she was at Vanta Bar looking wrecked.
Adrian had driven there on instinct and arrived just in time to see Isla disappear down the road alone.
So now here he was.
In the rain.
Beside a girl who thought the whole world found her easy to leave.
The second car pulled up.
Theo got out from the driver’s side, looked from Adrian to Isla, and wisely asked no stupid questions.
THEO: I came fast.
ADRIAN: Take her back to campus.
Isla narrowed her eyes.
ISLA: I’m not a package.
THEO: No, but you are soaked and one heel away from disaster.
ISLA: Rude.
THEO: True.
Theo crouched a little beside her.
THEO: Hi. Theo. Friend of the man trying very hard not to seem concerned.
Adrian shot him a look.
Theo ignored it.
ISLA squinted.
ISLA: Do I know you?
THEO: Maybe from campus. I’m deeply unforgettable, so probably.
That got a faint smile out of her.
Good.
Adrian kept his hands in his coat pockets because every instinct in him was telling him to lift her up, put her in the car himself, and erase this night for her.
But that was not what she needed.
And it was not his right.
ISLA: You’re both weird.
THEO: That’s fair.
ISLA looked past Theo and back at Adrian.
The rain softened for a moment, enough that he saw her properly.
Wet lashes. Red-rimmed eyes. Trembling mouth. A humiliation so fresh it was practically bleeding.
And still—still—there was fury in her.
He admired that most.
Not her softness.
Her refusal to die quietly.
ISLA: Are you going to tell me your name?
Every muscle in his body stilled.
No.
Not tonight.
If she knew it was Adrian Thorne, heir to the same cold glittering campus machine that had helped crush her, she would hear everything differently. She would think his kindness was pity. Or curiosity. Or worse, guilt purchased by privilege.
So he lied by omission.
ADRIAN: Get in the car, Isla.
Her breath caught.
ISLA: You know my name.
Too late.
Theo closed his eyes briefly like he was watching a man step on a landmine.
THEO: Okay. Great. New plan. We’re all pretending that wasn’t suspicious.
ISLA stared at Adrian.
Rain slid down her cheek like another tear.
ISLA: Who are you?
He should tell her.
He should.
But the night was already too raw, too loaded, too dangerous for the truth.
ADRIAN: Someone who wants you safe.
ISLA: That is the worst answer I’ve ever heard.
THEO: It is. He’s dramatic when wet.
Adrian nearly smiled.
Nearly.
Then Isla tried to stand again and failed.
This time, before he could stop himself, he moved.
One hand under her elbow. The other hovering at her back, not touching unless she tipped too far.
She went rigid at first.
Then looked up at him.
And the world narrowed.
God.
Her eyes.
Even swollen from crying, even blurred with rain and alcohol, they hit him like something physical.
ISLA: You smell expensive.
Theo barked out a laugh.
THEO: I like her.
Adrian ignored him.
ADRIAN: Can you walk?
ISLA: No.
ADRIAN: I noticed.
ISLA: Don’t be smug. I’m tragic.
ADRIAN: You’re not tragic.
ISLA: That’s twice now.
ADRIAN: Because it’s true.
For one second, all the fight in her face thinned.
Something vulnerable slipped through.
ISLA: Then what am I?
His grip on her elbow tightened fractionally.
What was she?
Brave.
Underrated.
Too alive for this rotten place.
Too good for Blake Remington.
Dangerous to him in ways he had been refusing to name for months.
But he said only:
ADRIAN: Cold.
Theo covered a snort with a cough.
ISLA looked offended.
ISLA: You’re not very poetic.
ADRIAN: Get in the car.
THEO: That’s the third time he’s said that. At this point, I think it might be foreplay.
Isla laughed.
Really laughed this time.
Broken at the edges, but real.
And Adrian hated Blake a little more for how grateful that sound made him feel.
Together, he and Theo got her into the back seat.
Isla clutched the jacket tighter.
ISLA: I’m keeping this.
ADRIAN: For tonight.
ISLA: Maybe forever.
Theo got into the driver’s seat.
THEO: See? She’s ambitious. I support that.
Adrian stepped back from the car, rain dripping from his jaw.
He should go.
He should let Theo take her.
Instead, Isla leaned toward the half-open window.
ISLA: Hey.
ADRIAN: What?
Her expression changed.
The alcohol didn’t erase it. The hurt didn’t erase it.
For the first time all night, she looked almost clear.
ISLA: If I become someone else… and he wants me back… does that mean I won?
The question hit like a knife slipped in gently.
Theo went silent.
Adrian looked at her through the rain.
ADRIAN: No.
ISLA blinked.
ISLA: No?
ADRIAN: If he wants you back because you changed, then he still doesn’t deserve the version of you he lost.
Something flickered across her face.
Shock, maybe.
Or relief.
Or the first tiny fracture in the lie she’d been building to survive.
ISLA: Then why do I still want him to choke when he sees me?
ADRIAN: Because you’re hurt.
ISLA: That sounded wise.
ADRIAN: Don’t tell anyone.
That almost made her smile again.
Then the smile faded.
ISLA: Will I feel like this forever?
The rain softened to mist.
For one beat, Adrian forgot every reason to be careful.
He bent slightly, one hand resting on the roof of the car, and let himself answer honestly.
ADRIAN: No.
ISLA: How do you know?
He held her gaze.
ADRIAN: Because one day, he’ll be the smallest part of your story.
She looked at him like no one had ever given her a future before.
Then slowly, carefully, she nodded.
Theo started the engine.
THEO: All right, mystery man. Time to stop haunting roadways.
Isla settled back against the seat, eyelids heavy now.
Just before Theo pulled away, she lifted a hand weakly toward Adrian.
ISLA: Bye… expensive stranger.
The car rolled off into the wet dark.
Adrian stood in the road long after the taillights vanished.
Rain soaking through his shirt.
Hands cold.
Chest worse.
Theo would get her back safely.
He knew that.
Still he did not move.
Not until his phone lit up in his pocket.
A message from his father.
ARTHUR THORNE: Breakfast tomorrow. Do not be late. We need to discuss your future.
Adrian stared at the screen.
Then looked toward the empty road where Isla had been.
His future.
Funny.
For the first time in his life, it no longer looked like the one his family had chosen.
And somewhere in the back seat of Theo’s car, asleep in his jacket, was the reason why.
- Writer
