I walked home from school, clutching my books tightly in my hands. The wind was whipping against me hard, strands of hair falling past my face and my skirt was lifting up showing a brief expanse of skin. I flattened it as I hurried along; raising my hands above my head as a shield from the ice cold raindrops I was sure were going to fall. “damn James!” I thought to myself sourly, I knew he’d forget to pick me up. I turned...