It was around 7:00 pm, and the sky was heavily overcast. The weather forecast had warned that heavy rain was expected to hit the southern regions tonight. So, my mom asked me to bring in the dry clothes from the balcony before the rain started. I went outside and collected all the clothes from the rope that my father and I had tied up last Sunday. The rope often snapped, and we had to replace it at least four or five times a month. It felt like an ongoing battle between us and the rope!

After gathering the clothes, I returned to my room. By then, the rain had started pouring in full force. I opened the window and looked out at my street. Our house was situated on a long street with about thirty to forty houses. Normally, the street would be filled with people walking and chatting, but now, thanks to the downpour, only a few people could be seen.

The cool air and the sound of raindrops falling from the roof were incredibly soothing. As I watched the rain, my attention was drawn to a small puppy wandering in the corner of Benjamin Uncle’s house. Every day, Benjamin Uncle would leave a cup of milk and food for the puppy, even though it wasn’t his dog. He had gone to his native place yesterday, and now the puppy was left alone, searching for food. It had nowhere to go and kept pacing around in the rain.

I remembered that I had once asked my mom if I could bring a dog home, but she had refused, saying she was allergic to cats and dogs. So, I couldn’t take the puppy in, no matter how much I wanted to. It was heart-wrenching to see it all alone in the rain. I closed my eyes and silently prayed that the puppy would be safe.

When I opened my eyes again, I was surprised to see someone sitting next to the puppy. The boy had taken off his shirt and spread it over his head, holding it up as a makeshift umbrella to protect the puppy from the rain. The little dog sat underneath, seeking shelter and warmth.

I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I could tell that the boy was wearing a white t-shirt beneath the shirt, so I didn’t catch any glimpse of his bare body. I was amazed at how easily he became friends with the puppy, offering it warmth and protection in the downpour. His act of kindness toward the dog made me smile, and for a moment, I felt a strange connection to him.

Finally, the rain stopped. The people on the street, who had been waiting out the storm, began to move quickly, trying to make their way before the sky could cry again.

The boy, who had been helping the puppy, must have had a kind and loving heart. I didn’t know why, but I felt a flutter in my chest as I watched him. I hadn’t seen his face clearly yet, but I couldn’t help feeling drawn to him.

I found myself wondering, Why is my heart racing? Is it because I’ve fallen for him at first sight? Or is it simply because I admire his kindness toward the puppy?

These questions swirled around in my mind, and I couldn’t shake them off. I smiled to myself, realizing that sometimes, even small acts of kindness can make someone unforgettable.

The boy stood up and walked toward the garage, which had been a carpenter’s shop two months ago. Some wooden scraps were still left there. He searched around, and I lost sight of him from my window.

A few minutes later, he returned with a large wooden box and placed it in the corner of Benjamin Uncle’s house. The puppy immediately went into the box and lay down inside. The box was closed on three sides, leaving only one side open. It looked like a little house for the puppy.

I still hadn’t gotten a clear view of his face. As he stood up, preparing to leave, he walked under the yellow streetlight. He lifted his head and gazed up at the sky. That’s when I saw his face clearly.

“Wow!” I thought to myself. I had never seen anyone so handsome in my life. He was tall, handsome, and now a savior to the puppy. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, standing there in the dim light, his face glowing softly under the streetlamp.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on my room door. I rushed to open it, and it was my dad calling me for dinner.

“Wait, Dad! I’ll be there in a minute!” I said quickly.

I closed the door without checking if he had left, then peeked out my window again to see the boy. But he was gone. The street was empty, except for the puppy, who was still resting in its new wooden home.

I went to dinner, but my mind kept drifting back to him. Who was he? When will I see him again? I kept thinking, but the questions swirled endlessly in my head. I tried to sleep, but my thoughts wouldn’t stop. Eventually, I managed to drift off.

The next day, I got ready for school as usual. I stepped outside and went to the parking lot to get my bicycle. It was one of my most cherished possessions because my dad had gifted it to me for my last birthday. I loved it so much, and I always parked it carefully in the lot next to our house, where many other bikes were parked.

That morning, the street was unusually quiet. I pulled my bike backward, not paying much attention to what was behind me. Suddenly, I felt a hard bump. I turned and saw that I had bumped into someone else’s bicycle.

At first, I bent down to check if my bike was damaged. “My goodness! It’s fine!” I thought, relieved.

Then I looked at the other bike I had hit. The mudguard had been slightly turned.

“Oh my god, the mudguard!” I panicked. I thought he might scold me for the damage, so I immediately began apologizing.

“Sorry! I’m really sorry! It’s my fault. I should have looked where I was going and pulled my bike out carefully. I’m really sorry!” I kept rubbing my hands together, closing my eyes in embarrassment.

I apologized repeatedly, when suddenly, I heard a soft chuckle.

I opened my eyes slowly, unsure of what to expect. To my surprise, he wasn’t angry.

“That’s okay,” he said in a calm, soothing voice. Then, without another word, he hopped on his bike and pedaled away, heading down the street.

I hopped on my bicycle and started pedaling.

“Oh wait!” Suddenly, I remembered him.

“Oh my god! That’s him! Yes, that’s the guy who helped the puppy yesterday. How did I forget his face? I missed him again!”

I started pedaling as fast as I could, hoping to catch up to him. As I turned the corner onto the road, I found it completely empty.

“This is so bad! I missed him again! How am I going to find him now?” I whimpered. Then I remembered he was wearing the same uniform as me—a beige-colored coat and black pants.

“Wait! He must be from our school. Let me find him!”

I reached the school in about 10 minutes and parked my bicycle in the school’s lot. I hurried upstairs to my classroom.

Section A and Section B were the two most notorious classes in the 12th grade. Every year, all the other classes were praised, but not ours. Even the school staff struggled to manage our sections. But eventually, a kind and friendly teacher, Mr. Long, was appointed to handle both Section A and Section B. He was our class teacher for Section A and also the computer science teacher for Section B.

“Worst classes ever!” “Most annoying classes!” “Not students, but devils!” “Worst batch of 2015!” These were the kinds of things teachers said about us—except Mr. Long.

Our two sections often spent more time in punishment than in class.

Section B, in particular, got into trouble a lot because of their antics.

I entered my classroom and took my seat. That day, Alice arrived before me.

“Hey, sweetie pie! Why do you look so tired?” Alice asked. I didn’t answer and just pulled out my homework notes from my bag.

Alice has been my best friend since childhood. She cares about me a lot and always calls me “sweetie pie.”

Alice is beautiful, bold, and always looks out for me. When we were nine years old, she once fought off a couple of boys our age who had been teasing me and taking my toys. The two boys cried and ran away. Alice is a fighter and a great protector, and I love her for that!

But today, my thoughts were consumed by the boy I had seen the day before and that morning. I decided I would search for him in every class during break time. I eagerly waited for the bell to ring.

An hour and a half later, after two periods of class, the bell finally rang. I jumped up from my seat in excitement.

“Oh my gosh!” I was so excited, I didn’t even realize I had stood up too early.

All my classmates stared at me, giggling. “I haven’t dismissed the class yet! You’re in quite a rush!” said the teacher.

I quickly looked around the room and apologized, “Sorry, teacher! I have an emergency. Next time, I’ll be the last one to leave. I promise!” I sat back down, embarrassed. My classmates and the teacher laughed at my reaction.