Chapter 27
Jul 4, 2025
Outside, rain slices through the sky like punishment. It comes down in sheets, cold and unrelenting, soaking through my sweater and into my skin. My hair sticks to my face. My breath comes too fast, too sharp.
I feel like the storm is inside me. Crashing. Screaming. Breaking.
I stand on the front steps, soaked, shaking, breath coming too fast. Everything hurts. My chest, my head, the hollow space behind my ribs where my heart used to be. I ran and didn’t stop. Not when people stared. Not when my name echoed through the cafeteria. Not when Grayson reached for me.
I want to disappear. But I don’t. Because something inside me won’t let me leave.
Then—footsteps. Heavy. Rushed. Certain.
Grayson.
He storms through the rain like it owes him something. Drenched. Furious. Beautiful. His jaw clenched. His shirt plastered to his chest. His eyes locked on me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.
“You said goodbye,” he says. His voice is raw, hoarse from running or yelling—I don’t know which. “I say fuck that.”
I stare at him, throat burning. “Why are you here?” I whisper. “You already did enough.”
“I didn’t do anything,” he says, stepping closer. “You did everything. You stood there alone while I let people talk. I let you walk away. I let you think it didn’t matter.”
I shake my head, eyes filling.
“It mattered,” I say. “It mattered so much I couldn’t breathe.”
His fists tighten. “I saw the look in your eyes when you ran. Like I’d become just another reason for you to hate yourself.”
“You don’t get to rewrite this,” I snap, the words louder than I mean them to be. “You let them laugh. You let them point. You let me fall apart in front of the whole school.”
“I didn’t know how to fix it!” he yells. “I thought if I stepped in, it would just make it worse. I thought maybe you needed space—”
“I didn’t need space!” I cry. “I needed you. And you disappeared.”
“I was scared,” he admits. “Not of them. Of you. Of what this could mean. I’ve never… cared like this before.”
“You should’ve fought for me,” I whisper. “The way I would’ve fought for you.”
“I’m fighting now.”
“You’re too late.”
His jaw clenches like the words cut him. “Then let me earn back what I lost. I’ll stand in the storm with you if that’s what it takes. I’ll take every hit they throw. Just—don’t shut me out.”
I look away, rain mixing with tears. “I don’t want to be someone’s secret. I don’t want to be protected in private and destroyed in public.”
“You won’t be,” he says, voice steady now. “I’ll stand beside you. I’ll take every picture. Every whisper. I’ll kiss you in every hallway and dare them to look.”
I want to believe him. I want it so badly it aches. But belief is dangerous. It got me here.
“You don’t have to prove anything,” I say. My voice cracks. “Not to them. Not to me.”
“I’m not here to prove,” he says. “I’m here to choose.”
And then he kisses me. Not softly. Not gently. Not like a question. Like an answer.
In front of everyone. The rain. The whispers. The shock.
Somewhere behind us, someone gasps. A camera clicks. I don’t care. I don’t flinch. I don’t hide. His hands cradle my face like I’m the only thing worth saving in this hellscape of a school. His lips taste like apology and rainwater and everything I thought I lost.
I kiss him back like I’m not afraid anymore. Like the cameras don’t matter. Like my father can’t erase me. Like I belong to myself again.
When we break apart, he presses his forehead to mine. We don’t speak. We don’t need to.
I let them watch. Because this time, I’m not ashamed.
I’m just in love.
