It was Rose's idea.
"Let's just walk in," she said. "Like we don't owe anyone an explanation."
Her hand was steady when she reached for mine outside the school gate. The morning sun hit her hair just right dark strands glowing warm brown and she looked like something brave. Something true.
I hesitated.
Not because I didn't want to.
But because part of me still expected the world to swallow us whole for this.
Rose gave my fingers a small squeeze. "I want them to know."
I looked at her and I knew, right then, I'd follow her anywhere.
So I nodded.
And we walked in. Together.
The courtyard buzzed with students uniforms rustling, sneakers slapping pavement, half-finished conversations floating in the air.
And then it shifted.
I felt it before I saw it.
Heads turning. Eyes tracking.
Voices dropping to murmurs like leaves falling all around us.
Rose kept walking, chin high, her hand warm in mine.
I didn't look at anyone.
But I could feel the weight of their stares settle on our shoulders.
"Are they…?"
"Wait, Rose?"
"Kellie and seriously?"
The whisper storm followed us through the halls like perfume we couldn't wash off.
When we reached our classroom, Rose finally looked at me.
"You okay?"
"No," I whispered honestly. "But I want to be."
She smiled, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. "Then we'll be okay."
Hana was already at her desk.
When our eyes met, she didn't flinch. She just nodded once and gave the smallest smile.
I mouthed a silent thank you.
She nodded again.
The teacher walked in. The bell rang.
Life went on.
But something had changed.
Because now everyone knew.
And we didn't have to lie anymore.
At lunch, we sat in our usual spot on the roof. The wind was soft. The sky pale.
"I thought I'd be more afraid," I said.
Rose passed me her juice box. "You are."
I laughed. "A little."
"But you're still here," she said. "And so am I."
Before the bell rang again, she leaned over, kissed my cheek, and whispered:
"Let them look.
I want them to know who I belong to."