Storm Warnings Never Meant for Me

At our final dinner before my graduation, my brother, Ethan Sawyer, suddenly gets a rainstorm alert on his phone. It isn't for our city. It's for Lindale, two hundred miles away. The next second, my childhood friend, Yohan Harrison, and my boyfriend, Connor Langley, receive the same alert. All three of them look down at their screens at the exact same time. Ethan is the first to text Willow Quinn. "Bring your umbrella." Yohan immediately checks whether the high-speed train is delayed. Connor has already opened his ride-hailing app. He plans to go pick Willow up because she's getting off work late. That's when I notice something. Lindale is the second city saved in all three of their weather apps—the same city where Willow has been doing her internship for the past six months. Whenever the temperature drops, someone reminds her to wear something warmer. When it rains, someone reminds her to bring an umbrella. When a hurricane is coming, someone makes sure to book her train ticket in advance. Meanwhile, I've mentioned three times in our group chat that I received a job offer from a studio in Fordham. No one has ever asked if it's cold there. Before Connor leaves, he even reminds me, "Make sure to ping me tomorrow morning so I can check Lindale's weather forecast." I nod silently, keeping quiet about the fact that I only have a few days left to accept the offer. Once I sign my name, I'll soon be flying five thousand miles away. After that, none of them will ever need to know what kind of weather awaits me in my new city. Chapter 1 At 7:00 am the next morning, the dorm manager's call jolted me awake. "Zelda, remember, all graduates need to move out before noon today." I looked at the cardboard boxes piled across half my room. Then, I remembered that my brother, Ethan Sawyer, had promised to come by that morning to help me move. My childhood friend, Yohan Harrison, had promised to disassemble my bookshelves. My boyfriend, Connor Langley, had even teased me for packing too slowly. "Don't touch a thing," Connor had scoffed playfully. "The three of us will come tomorrow and have everything moved out in two hours." At 8:00 am, I texted them, but no one replied. At 9:00 am, Ethan finally picked up the phone. An electric drill was buzzing in the background. "What's up?" he asked, sounding distracted. "What time are you guys coming over?" He paused for a moment before saying, "Oh, I forgot to tell you. The window in Willow's apartment leaked last night. Half the wall was soaked, so we came over to help her find another place." I tightened my grip on the phone and said nothing. As if worried I might get upset, Ethan quickly added, "Look, your building has an elevator, right? Why don't you take the boxes downstairs yourself?" Noting my silence, he explained further, "It's a mess over here. We even have to take her bed apart." I looked down and counted everything I had to move. There were thirteen cardboard boxes, two suitcases, plus three years' worth of model kits, framed artwork, and dozens of textbooks. "I have to clear everything out before noon," I said into the phone. "Then, just hire a mover. It's not like you can't afford it," Ethan replied casually. Then, the call ended. Ten minutes later, Yohan posted a photo in our group chat. Willow Quinn was squatting in the middle of the empty living room of her new place, wearing a hat made from folded newspaper. Ethan was assembling the bed, Yohan was hanging curtains from a ladder, and Connor was bent over, mopping the floor. Willow captioned the photo with three crying emojis and the message—"The window was only leaking a little, and somehow all three of them showed up." Ethan replied, "Well, the weather app warned us first thing this morning that it was going to rain again today." Connor chimed in right after him. "We need to get her new place ready ASAP. Otherwise, everything will get soaked again tonight." I glanced out my dorm window. The sky in my city was heavy with grey clouds, too. Yet not one of them had bothered to ask if I could manage on my own. By 10:30 am, the dorm manager had started going door to door, urging everyone to hurry. With no other choice, I began carrying everything downstairs myself. The last box held all my textbooks from the past few years. It was brutally heavy. As I rounded the corner of the stairwell, the bottom of the cardboard box suddenly split open. My books tumbled out and crashed onto the floor with a heavy thump. A loose wooden plank slipped out with the books, and its sharp edge sliced straight across my palm. Blood immediately welled up from the cut. A few students nearby rushed over to help. "Zelda, your hand is bleeding so much!" one of them cried out. I quickly pulled out a few tissues and pressed them against the wound. "I'm fine," I murmured. I'd said those words so many times that they came naturally. At 12:05 pm, I shoved the last box into the moving van. That was when Connor finally called. "Are you done moving?" Connor asked over the speaker. "Yeah," I replied, wiping the sweat from my forehead. "Great!" he said, letting out a sigh of relief. "Are you heading back to the dorm this afternoon? Willow has two boxes of books left at her old place, and she doesn't have room for them in her new apartment. There's still room in your dorm, right? Just keep them for her until—" I cut him off. "I've already checked out of my dorm." Connor went quiet for a moment. "So soon?" I didn't know what to say. I'd told them in the group chat a week ago that today was my move-out deadline. Ethan said he'd drive. Yohan said he'd move the books. Connor told me not to lift a finger. Yet, the moment Willow said her window was leaking, all three of them had forgotten their promises. "Don't worry about it," Connor replied, as if he'd found another solution. "Just put them at your place for now. Your apartment's got plenty of space anyway." I stared at the blood-soaked tissue wrapped around my palm and asked, "Connor, do you remember why I had to move out today?" "Because you graduated," he answered hesitantly. "And?" I pressed on. "What do you mean?" he asked. I remained silent. He didn't even realize what he was missing. After graduation, I'd be starting work soon. Yet, none of them had any idea where I was going. That evening, Ethan and the others finally came back. Willow was with them. The moment she walked through the door, she spotted my gauze-wrapped hand. "Zelda, what happened to your hand?" she gasped. "What happened?" Connor asked, frowning. "I hurt it while moving a box," I replied coldly. "I told you to hire movers, but you just had to do it yourself," Ethan said, scoffing. I looked him dead in the eye. "I did hire movers." "Fine. You got it done anyway," he muttered dismissively before lowering his head to check his phone. The next second, Ethan suddenly turned to Connor and Yohan. "The temperature's dropping 40 degrees tomorrow." Then, he looked at Willow and asked, "Is your thick comforter still at your old place?" Yohan grabbed his car keys from the coffee table without missing a beat. "Let's go get it now," he suggested. Connor immediately stood up. The three of them started making plans again. From the couch, Willow glanced at me apologetically. "Maybe we should just leave it for now," she said. "Zelda hurt her hand. You guys should stay with her." Ethan chuckled. "It's just a small cut. It'd be a bigger problem if you caught a cold tomorrow." I lowered my gaze to the gauze wrapped around my hand. Suddenly, the truth hit me. They weren't forgetful or careless. They remembered everything—the weather, the temperature, the rain, and even cold snaps. It was just that none of those reminders on their apps had ever been meant for me. Chapter 2 Two days later, I got a call from my supervisor, Julian Hartley. Something was wrong with my graduation restoration project. The ancient painting had taken on moisture damage after it was removed from the exhibition. Julian told me to take it to the temperature-controlled restoration lab at the city museum immediately. "You have to get it there before ten," Julian urged over the phone. "The paint layer is only damp right now, but if you wait a few more hours and it starts to peel, there'll be no way to fix it." I had spent seven months working on that painting. I had painstakingly restored it step by step, from cleaning and repairing the paper to retouching the colors. The university had already submitted it for the Young Restorers' Exhibition. I couldn't afford to waste a second. The problem was the frame. It was nearly six feet tall, far too large to fit in a standard cab. I had no choice but to call Ethan. "Wait there. I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said, without missing a beat. Sure enough, he pulled up at 9:00 am. I'd barely gotten the painting into the back seat when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and blurted out, "Oh, crap." "What's wrong?" I asked, a sudden knot forming in my stomach. "Hail warning for Lindale," he replied. Before I could react, Willow sent a voice message to the group chat. "Help! My car is still parked out in the open at work. I'm stuck on the highway. There's no way I can get back in time. I've only had my new car for three days!" Ethan slammed on the brakes. "You're not actually going, are you?" I asked, a terrible sense of dread washing over me. "It's just a ten-minute detour," he said dismissively. "That car's worth over 600,000 dollars. What if it gets covered in dents?" I checked the time. It was 9:13 am. "I have to get there by ten," I said, my voice tense. "I know," Ethan said as he spun the steering wheel and made a U-turn. "We'll move her car first, then I'll drop you off." However, we hadn't gone far before the traffic came to a standstill. At 9:25 am, I started urging Ethan to hurry. "What's the point of nagging me? It's not like I'm the one causing the jam!" he snapped. I called Yohan, and he picked up immediately. "Make it quick. I'm driving." "Can you come pick me up? I have to get the painting to the museum before ten," I begged. Yohan answered after a brief pause, "I can't. I'm on my way to buy Willow a hail cover for her car." "Ethan is already on his way to move her car into the garage," I said, trying to reason with him. Yohan hesitated for a moment before replying, "What if the garage is full? Better safe than sorry." He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Connor was my last hope. However, the moment I started speaking, he cut me off. "Zelda, I really can't leave right now. Willow's so upset she's about to cry. I'm going to pick her up." I tightened my grip on my phone. "My graduation project is about to be ruined," I said, my voice tight with frustration. "You're just going to be a little late," Connor said dismissively. "No. My supervisor said that after 10:00 am, the paint layer could—" "Then call an Uber XL," Connor interrupted sharply. "Can't you stop relying on us for everything?" The harsh words hung in the air like a slap in the face, and I fell silent. At 9:40 am, Ethan finally pulled up outside Willow's workplace. "I'll move her car. Give me five minutes," he said. I waited for 20 minutes. At 9:58 am, I stood on the sidewalk with the painting in my arms and called a moving van myself. By the time Ethan came out of the garage, I was already gone. At 10:46 am, I rushed into the museum's restoration lab. The restorer carefully pulled back the moisture-proof cloth covering the frame. He looked at the painting and shook his head. "It's too late," he murmured. In the bottom-right corner, the mineral pigments had started to lift from the silk. Once the old pigments were separated from the base layer, pressing them back down would leave visible marks. There was no way the painting would meet the standards for the Young Restorers' Exhibition. I stood there without saying a word. A while later, Julian arrived. He examined the painting and fell silent. In the end, he simply patted me on the shoulder. "It's okay. You did everything you could," he said gently. Seven months of hard work, and this was what I got. At 3:00 pm, a photo suddenly popped up in the group chat. Willow's brand-new car was parked safely in an underground garage. There wasn't even a drop of rain on it. The hail cover Yohan had bought was still in its packaging. Ethan was wiping down her windshield while Connor stood beside him, holding a cup of coffee. Willow posted a caption below it. "LOL. It didn't even hail." "That's good. Better safe than sorry," Ethan replied almost instantly. I stared at his reply for a long time. That evening, Connor came to see me. That was when he finally found out that my restoration project was ruined. "Can't you just do it again?" he asked. I looked at him, my expression blank. "It took me seven months. What do you think?" He fell silent for a moment before reaching out to hug me. "Don't be upset. It was just a graduation project. You already have a job lined up, don't you? You'll have plenty of chances in the future," he said gently. I didn't pull away. Instead, I asked, "How's Willow's car?" "It's fine. There wasn't even any hail." "That's great. Isn't it?" I murmured. Connor looked confused by my question. A soft chuckle escaped me. For a hailstorm that never even happened, all three of them had been willing to overprepare just in case. Yet, for my painting, which was already showing moisture damage, none of them had believed me when I told them I was running out of time. Connor frowned. "Do you seriously have to compare yourself to her every single time?" he asked. "She's out there all by herself. What's wrong with us taking a little extra care for her? It's not like you're some helpless kid who can't take care of herself." I said nothing. Connor's phone lit up at that moment. The weather app was open, and a small red bell icon appeared next to the name Lindale. He had turned on severe weather alerts for the city—heavy rain, temperature drop, strong wind, extreme heat, and hail. "When did you set these up?" I asked. Connor glanced down at his screen. "Probably when Willow went to Lindale for her internship. I was worried she'd struggle on her own in a new city." I nodded slowly. It turned out they didn't just check the weather forecast for Lindale from time to time. They had set up special alerts for every kind of bad weather that might come her way. Chapter 3 The night before my graduation ceremony, I sent one last message in the group chat to confirm everything. "Tomorrow morning at 9:00 am. Don't be late." Ethan replied, "Don't worry. I'll be sitting in the front row by 8:30 am." Yohan sent a cheeky emoji. "Can't wait to watch you trip over your own feet on stage." Connor was the most serious of them all. He replied, "My camera's charged. I'll record the whole thing when you get your diploma." I stared at their replies for a long time. Then, I registered their names for the three family seats in the front row. By 8:30 am the next morning, all three seats were still empty. At 8:40 am, there was still no sign of them. At 8:55 am, Ethan finally called. "Zelda, we might not make it in time for the ceremony." "Why?" I asked, tightening my grip on my graduation cap. The line went completely quiet on the other end. I broke the silence, asking, "What happened to Willow this time?" Ethan cleared his throat before answering. "She's moving today." For a moment, I thought I'd heard him wrong. "I thought that was scheduled for this afternoon?" I asked, my voice tinged with confusion. Ethan let out a sigh before explaining, "The weather forecast says there's going to be a thunderstorm this afternoon. The moving company called and asked if they could move everything up to the morning. How is she supposed to handle all that stuff by herself?" "So, all three of you went to help her?" I asked. "Yohan's packing at the old place. Connor's getting things ready at her new place, and I'm driving," Ethan replied, his voice carrying a hint of guilt. Everything was perfectly organized. They had planned everything even more carefully than they had planned my graduation ceremony. "Ethan," I murmured, staring absentmindedly at the three empty seats in the front row. "Today is my graduation ceremony." He fell silent for a few seconds. When he spoke again, he sounded helpless. "I know. It's not like your diploma is going anywhere. We'll come by later and take pictures with you, okay? What if it really rains heavily this afternoon while Willow's only halfway through the move?" Just then, the announcement system called my name. Ethan was still lecturing me over the phone. "You're an adult now. Stop acting like a spoiled kid." I hung up without saying another word. As I walked onto the stage, a sea of glowing phone screens lit up the audience below. Someone was calling out their daughter's name. Someone else stood up and applauded for their sister. A mother was dabbing tears from her eyes, overwhelmed with emotion. Julian handed me my degree folder, his eyes drifting toward the empty seats in the front row. "Your family didn't come?" he asked quietly. "They're stuck in traffic," I murmured, my eyes fixed on the three seats that had been empty from the very beginning. It was the first time I had ever made an excuse for them. It was also the last. After the ceremony, everyone gathered with their families to take pictures. I stood near the auditorium entrance for a long time, holding my bouquet. Eventually, someone I didn't know approached me. "Hey, do you need someone to take your picture?" she asked with a smile. "I can do it for you." She crouched down to find the right angle, then ran over to a nearby tree to check the lighting. In the end, she took nearly twenty photos, each one with far more care than Connor had ever shown when taking my picture. Handing the phone back, she asked casually, "So, where's your boyfriend?" I smiled faintly. "Oh, he's busy helping a friend move." The lady blinked, caught off guard for a second. In the end, all she could manage to say was "Oh." The silence that followed was awkward. Around 1:00 pm, Willow posted on social media. In the photo, she stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of her new place, holding a bouquet of housewarming flowers and smiling brightly. Ethan was crouched on the floor, assembling a shoe cabinet. Yohan stood on a ladder, installing a ceiling light, while Connor stood behind her, tying back the curtains. The caption read, "Made it into my new home before the thunderstorm. Thank you to my three superheroes!" The comment section was filled with people saying how jealous they were. I stared at the photo for a long time. My brother, my childhood friend for over a decade, and my boyfriend of four years were all missing from my graduation photos. Yet, all three of them were there in Willow's ordinary moving-day photo. Ironically, it didn't even rain that afternoon. That evening, all three of them finally showed up at my apartment. Ethan brought a bouquet of flowers he'd picked up on the way over. Yohan had a cake in his hands. Connor handed me a gift bag. "Come on. Don't be upset. We really didn't mean to miss it," he said gently. I opened the gift bag. Inside was an umbrella. "This is the most practical gift I could think of. You just don't check the weather," he said with a smile. He reminded me, "From now on, remember to take it with you whenever you go out. Then, you won't keep getting caught in the rain." I ran my fingers over the handle of the umbrella and said nothing. He had no problem sending Willow daily reminders about when the temperature would drop, when it would rain, and how strong the winds would be. He would even set customized alerts for a hailstorm that never even happened. When it came to me, I was simply told to remember for myself. Yohan suddenly chimed in. "By the way, isn't Willow going to Halston for training next week?" Ethan pulled out his phone immediately. "Hasn't Halston been pretty hot lately?" Connor glanced down at his phone screen. "Eighty-four during the day. Sixty-four at night. There's a chance of light rain on Thursday, but it's sunny for the two days she'll actually be there for training." I stood just a few feet away, watching him. Then, I suddenly noticed that the second city listed on Connor's weather app was no longer Lindale. He had changed it to Halston. In that instant, everything clicked into place. It was never about the cities. It was all about Willow. Wherever she traveled, the saved city on their weather apps changed with her. Wherever she traveled, they checked the weather there ahead of time for her. I suddenly asked, "How about Fordham?" Connor looked up from his screen. "What?" "What's the weather like in Fordham right now?" I asked. All three of them turned to stare at me. "How are we supposed to know?" Ethan asked with a chuckle. "Why are you suddenly asking about Fordham in Ivoria?" Yohan asked, looking confused. I offered no explanation. A month ago, I'd sent the notice about my final interview in Fordham to the group chat. Two weeks ago, I'd told them I'd passed. Three days ago, I'd told them I'd received the offer. It wasn't that they hadn't checked their phones. Those messages simply weren't important enough for them to stop and read carefully. Willow was only going to Halston for three days the following week. They already knew the daily highs and lows by heart. I looked down and folded up the umbrella. For the first time, five thousand miles didn't seem so far away. Chapter 4 There was only one day left to accept the job offer from the studio in Fordham. HR had already sent me two reminder emails, but I still hadn't clicked the link to accept it. It wasn't because the job wasn't good enough. It was because I couldn't bring myself to leave the people I cared about back home. Ethan had been by my side since we were kids. Yohan had been my friend for over a decade. I'd been with Connor for four years. Human nature was a strange thing. Even after being let down so many times, a small part of me still couldn't let go of one foolish hope. What if they chose me next time? So, that afternoon, I sent a message to the group chat. "Dinner at our usual place at 8:00 pm tonight. I have something important to share. Can all of you make it?" It was the first time I'd ever made an invitation sound so serious. Ethan replied instantly, "Sure." Yohan replied a moment later, "Eight o'clock, right? I'll make sure to be there." Connor called me directly. "What's so mysterious?" he asked. "I'll tell you when we meet tonight," I said. He chuckled. "Alright. I'll come pick you up at 7:30 pm." When the call ended, I actually felt relieved. I thought that as long as they showed up tonight and listened to what I had to say, maybe I could still reconsider leaving. At 7:30 pm, Connor didn't show up. At 7:40 pm, he sent me a message. "Something came up at work. Go ahead without me." Ethan texted next, saying he was stuck in traffic. Yohan said there was an emergency at home and asked me to wait. I sat alone at the diner where we'd been eating together for seven years. By 9:00 pm, the three place settings on the table were still untouched. Even the owner couldn't help asking, "Are they still coming?" Before I could answer, my social media feed refreshed. It was a post by Willow. In the photo, she sat on her suitcase in the airport waiting area. Beyond the massive glass window behind her, lightning streaked across the dark night sky. The caption read, "My flight got delayed by a thunderstorm. I casually mentioned that I was a little scared, and somehow these three idiots all showed up." Below it was a group photo showing Ethan, Yohan, and Connor in it. I stared at the photo for a long time without moving. The most ironic part wasn't that they had chosen her over me again. It was that they hadn't even planned to show up together. Ethan lied about being stuck in traffic. Yohan lied about a family emergency. Connor pretended he was stuck at the office. All three of them had made their choices independently. Somehow, they had all ended up at the exact same place. Even after I had clearly told them that I had something important to share, when each of them had to make the choice for himself, they still chose Willow. The group chat quickly came alive again. "I'm fine, really," Willow insisted. "The forecast says there's a thunderstorm, but that doesn't mean the flight can't take off." Ethan replied, "But what if it doesn't?" Yohan chimed in. "Why are you freaking out at the airport by yourself?" Connor replied, "We'll leave once you're on the plane." I stared at those words on my screen. Then, with trembling fingers, I dialed Connor's number. "Zelda?" he picked up almost immediately. "I'm not done here yet. Go ahead without me. I'll come over later." Instead of confronting him, I asked, "What's the weather like in Halston tomorrow?" After a brief pause, he answered without hesitation. "It's eighty degrees with scattered showers in the afternoon. It'll cool down to seventy-five the day after tomorrow. It'll be sunny on the day of Willow's training, but the winds will be pretty strong that night." He didn't need to look up a single detail. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "What about Fordham?" The line went quiet. A few seconds passed before Connor finally asked, "What do you mean by Fordham?" Those six words were enough to make the last shred of hesitation holding me back from leaving disappear. I scrolled back through our group chat. A month ago, I'd posted, "The studio in Fordham just sent me an invitation for a final interview." Not a single person had replied. Two weeks ago, I'd posted, "I passed the final interview." Ethan had been busy chatting with Willow about apartment rentals. Three days ago, I'd posted, "The official offer came through." Connor had replied right below my message, "Pizza or barbecue tonight?" The problem wasn't that I hadn't told them. It was that they never cared enough to listen. Connor finally seemed to realize what I was talking about. His voice suddenly changed. "Wait. The job you mentioned before… Was that the overseas one?" "Yeah," I replied coldly. "Are you really going to Ivoria?" "Yeah." He suddenly sounded anxious. "How could you wait until now to tell me something this important?" I lowered my head and let out a quiet laugh. "Connor," I whispered. "I told you three times." There was complete silence on the other end of the line. Then the airport announcement echoed faintly through the phone, followed by Willow's voice. "Connor, we can board now!" Connor answered instinctively, "Coming." Only then did he lower his voice and speak to me. "Zelda, don't make any rash decisions. Wait until I get back. We'll talk it through." It was another wait. I'd waited for them to help me move out of my dorm. I'd waited for Ethan to drive my damaged painting to the museum. I'd waited by those three empty seats at my graduation ceremony. And tonight, I'd waited for two hours. Every time they asked me to wait, they were on their way to Willow. "Connor, I'm done waiting," I said coldly into the phone and ended the call. When I opened my inbox, the offer letter from the studio in Fordham was right at the top. I opened the email, signed the letter, and submitted it without a second thought. A notification popped up on the screen—"Confirmation successful". I stared at those words for a long time. Finally, I opened my weather app and searched for Fordham. The forecast for the next seven days was sunny. A prompt appeared on the screen—"Add as a saved city?" I tapped "Confirm." From that moment on, I would check the weather myself and walk my own path.