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         “Shit, it’s raining,” I said.
         Monty immediately looked up, hopeful I hadn’t joked with her. “It’s way too bright to be raining,” she said with a smile, “it’s great when the weather does weird stuff like this.”
         I scoffed. How could she enjoy this? Rain meant a sweltering humidity, terrible drivers, and usually somehow gave me a headache. “It’s great when you’re indoors, sure,” I sort of agreed with her.
         She had a much more genuine scoff, “How can you not like the rain?”
         A great question! I was so excited to answer her that I set my burger down. “One, rain ruins things. Why do people make plans in August? You’ll get rained out, then someone has to send out the awkward guess-we’re-not-hanging-out text, it makes relationships so tense! Two, those movies and music videos that have people pouring their heart out in the equally pouring rain is bullshit. You can’t be too sentimental when you’re wishing you had brought another pair of socks with you today. Three, people who wear glasses or have any glass in their car. Four,” I struggled to think of a fourth as the aforementioned reasons, as if they had heard my rant and taken offense, began to strike out at us.
         Almost violently, the rain morphed into a torrent, and Monty and I rushed back to the car.
         “Come on, Johanna, you didn’t have to piss the rain gods off,” she teased.
         “Oh, fuck off.”
         I turned the car on, and with it the radio. We sat in our little rapture, stuffing our faces with the most glorious burgers, feeling so creative when we tried to mix the honey mustard sauce with barbeque, so confident that we deserved this, no matter how greasy.
         Monty and I have only been friends for about three years, but we have spent almost every moment of that time together. I met her, funnily enough, through my drug dealer. She was the designated blunt-roller, for she was the only one who had almost mastered this technique. We quickly discovered that we meshed well.
         A stunningly bright flash illuminated the storm. I was disappointed that I had been too involved with my burger to have seen a lightning bolt as spectacular as that, but I did not relent. Monty perked up and said something. I couldn’t hear her, the music was too loud.
         “What?” I almost yelled at her.
         She pointed, “What the fuck is that?”
I looked up. In a cloud, about a mile or so away from us,