Every evening, my neighbor waited outside my classroom to walk me home. One rainy Friday, I asked him why. He looked at me and said, “Because if I don't see you tomorrow, I want today's memory to be a good one.” I laughed at first. Then I noticed he was holding back tears. His name was Cassian Vale. He'd been my neighbor since childhood, my partner for every school project, and the boy who always carried an extra umbrella because I never remembered mine. I thought he was just being kind. Until I started dating another boy. Cassian stopped waiting outside my classroom. He stopped sending me silly messages at midnight. And when I told him about my first date, he smiled and said he was happy for me. But his eyes told another story. A month later, my boyfriend broke up with me over text. I cried on the school steps until everyone had left. Then Cassian appeared, holding the umbrella I had given him years ago. “You still have that?” I asked. He nodded. “You gave it to me when we were twelve. You said you'd never let me get caught in the rain again.” I smiled sadly. “You remember everything.” “Everything about you.” My heart began to race. “Cassian…” He took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something before graduation.” I stared at him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny envelope. Inside was a photograph of us as children, standing beneath that same umbrella. On the back, he'd written: I've loved you since before I knew what love was. I looked up, trembling. He whispered, “But if you don't feel the same way, I'll still be your friend.” I stepped closer. “Cassian, what if I've been waiting for you to say that for years?” His eyes widened. Then the school bell rang, and someone called his name from behind us. He turned around. It was my ex-boyfriend. And he was holding a letter addressed to me.