I stop. She is standing there. Headband girl. Alone. No friends. Her perfect coat unbuttoned, her perfect hair a little frizzy from snow. She looks… nervous.
“What?” I ask.
“You go home this way?” she asks.
“Sometimes.”
“Can I… walk with you?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Why?”
Her throat moves as she swallows. “Because I can.”
That answer tells me everything and nothing at once.
We walk. Snow falls heavier now. Her boots crunch on the pavement. She keeps glancing at me like she wants to say something big but is not sure how to start.
Finally, she blurts, “You do not care.”
“About what?”
“About us,” she says. “About people like me.”
I laugh once. “Why would I?”
She flinches. Not in offense. In truth.
We reach the back corner of the sports building, the area where the maintenance shed blocks the view of the courtyard. She stops walking. Looks around. Steps closer. Too close.
“I did not mean to look down on you,” she says softly. “I just… everyone does. It is how it is. But when you hit Volkov, I… I saw you.”
She reaches for my sleeve. Fingers brush the fabric. Her eyes search mine like she is looking for permission. I do not give verbal permission. I just do not step back. She rises to her toes and kisses me. Her lips are soft. Uncertain. She tastes like mint tea and privilege.
She pulls back, breath shaky, eyes wide. “Do not tell anyone,” she whispers. “Please.”
There it is. The shift. The crack in the porcelain.
“Why not?” I ask.
“Because they will talk. Because they will say something is wrong with me. Because they will think I chose…” She gestures to me. “…this.”
I laugh quietly. “This?”
“You know what I mean.”
I do. I just hate that she said it.
She steps closer again, palms on my chest now. “But I want to choose you.”
Her voice is almost desperate. So, I let her kiss me again. This time she means it.
Her hands tangle in my hoodie. Mine settle on her waist. Her breath comes fast. She presses her forehead against mine when we break apart.
“Can we…” She glances at the shed behind us. “…go inside?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Her eyebrows knit together. “Why not?”
