Part 1
The library was nearly empty after school, just the soft hum of the AC and the occasional turn of a page. Skylar sat across from Jamie, books open between them, though neither had been studying for the past twenty minutes.
"I can't stop thinking about that message Lila sent," Jamie said, fingers drumming on the table. "It felt like... backup. Like maybe we're not so alone."
Skylar nodded, absently twisting the ring on her finger. "I haven't felt like part of anything since Ema left. But lately..."
She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.
Jamie smiled. "Since me?"
Skylar blushed, the familiar heat creeping into her cheeks. "Maybe."
A silence settled between them, not awkward — just weighted. Safe.
"I still think about her sometimes," Skylar admitted. "Ema. I used to think she'd come back. That everything would go back to how it was."
Jamie didn't interrupt. He let her speak, let the memories pour out like ink on a blank page.
"We made up our own language," she said with a laugh that turned quiet. "She knew me in ways no one else did."
Jamie leaned back, thoughtful. "Is that why you're scared to let people in now?"
Skylar blinked, startled by his perception. "Maybe. I just... I don't want to lose that kind of closeness again. It felt like losing part of myself."
Jamie nodded. "I get it. I lost someone too. Not to distance — to something else."
She tilted her head. "What happened?"
He looked down. "My brother. He was older. Got into a bad scene. Drugs. It... took him from us. He's still alive, but he's not the same. We barely talk."
Skylar reached across the table and touched his hand. "I'm sorry."
Jamie's fingers turned slightly, just enough for their palms to touch.
It wasn't a romantic gesture, not quite — but it held a kind of gravity that made both of them still.
Outside, the sky dimmed into dusk. The world moved on, but for a moment, time folded in on itself around that quiet connection.
Skylar finally pulled her hand away and exhaled. "We're two messes trying to be okay."
Jamie smiled. "Then maybe we'll be okay together."
Just as she was about to respond, the sound of approaching footsteps made them both stiffen.
Lila appeared between the shelves, her expression unreadable. "Hey. Sorry to interrupt. But... I think you guys should see something."
Jamie stood first. "What is it?"
Lila held out her phone. The screen displayed a photo — grainy but unmistakable. It was them. In the hallway yesterday. Skylar's locker. Jamie's hand on her shoulder.
And the caption written over it:
"Some people never learn. Can you say 'attention seekers'?"
Skylar's stomach dropped. "Who posted that?"
Lila's mouth was tight. "Marcus. And it's already spreading."
Jamie looked furious. "We're not doing this again."
But Skylar just stared at the screen. Not with anger — but with something colder.
Resolve.
"I'm done hiding," she said, voice low.
Jamie met her eyes, then nodded. "Then let's make sure the next photo they see tells our story. Not theirs."
Part 2
Skylar stared out the bus window, the image of Marcus's post still burned into her mind. Jamie sat beside her, one earbud in, sharing his playlist — low beats and sad indie vocals humming like a second heartbeat between them.
She didn't say anything for a long time.
Neither did he.
That was what she liked about him — the quiet didn't have to be filled.
It was Lila who'd convinced them to ride with her to the community center that evening. "If they want a show, give them a better one," she had said. "We're organizing a mural project for the art kids. Media's gonna be there. Do something visible. Show people what you stand for."
Skylar had almost said no. Almost retreated again. But then she looked at Jamie, who looked right back at her — not pushing, just waiting — and something in her spine straightened.
They'd never win the game by hiding.
As they stepped off the bus, the streetlight lit their faces in warm orange. Lila was already waving them over.
"Paint's this way," she said, tossing them each a hoodie with the project name on the back: "Voices in Color."
The center buzzed with energy. Teens and volunteers setting up easels, tarps, color palettes. Someone blasted music from a portable speaker. It was chaos — and Skylar was surprised to find she didn't hate it.
Jamie bumped her elbow gently. "You ready for this?"
Skylar smirked. "Only if you are."
They were given a panel on the side of the building, facing the main street — a space no one could ignore.
Skylar stared at the blank wall, brush in hand. The first stroke mattered. The first stroke said, I exist.
She dipped the brush in deep red and painted a single line. Bold. Vertical. Then another, in a curve beside it.
Jamie followed her lead, adding shade, structure. They moved like they'd done it before. Like this wasn't their first time carving something out of silence.
Around them, people watched. A few phones came out. She saw one girl whisper to another, saw them point.
But this time?
Skylar didn't shrink.
Instead, she added a word in thick black paint near the bottom of the panel:
"Unfiltered."
And then another:
"Unapologetic."
When she stepped back, hands messy, heart hammering, Jamie looked at her and smiled — not in amusement, not to comfort her.
With pride.
Later, when they took a break and sat on the curb outside, sweat and paint smeared on their clothes, Jamie turned to her.
"You know what I've learned?" he said.
"What?"
"Fear is boring."
She laughed. "Tell that to my anxiety."
He bumped her knee with his. "I just did."
The night was cooling, but she felt warm everywhere. And when Jamie leaned toward her — not rushing, not assuming — just hovering in that brave, charged space between friendship and something more…
Skylar didn't pull away.
She tilted forward, heart in her throat, and met him in the middle.
The kiss wasn't dramatic. No fireworks or spinning skies. Just the quiet kind — gentle, real, the kind that happens when you stop asking permission to exist.
When they broke apart, Skylar exhaled softly. "You think they'll post about that too?"
Jamie grinned. "Let them."
Part 3
By Monday morning, the mural was all over social media.
Pictures of Skylar and Jamie—faces streaked with paint, holding brushes, laughing beside their finished panel—circulated faster than rumors ever could. Most people shared it with likes and flame emojis. A few added captions like:
"Didn't know Skylar had this in her."
"Is this the glow-up era or what?"
And one that made her pause:
"She's not hiding anymore."
Skylar read the comments with a strange cocktail of feelings—anxious, exposed, but also something new.
Free.
In homeroom, people kept glancing at her, whispering not with cruelty this time, but curiosity. Her stomach fluttered, but it didn't sink. She wore her black hoodie with the mural's tag—Voices in Color—on the back, and for once, she didn't hunch her shoulders to make herself smaller.
When Jamie walked in, late and casually unbothered, he slid into the seat beside her with a small smile. "Good weekend?"
She gave him a sideways look. "You kissed me."
He grinned. "You kissed back."
Her eyes rolled, but she couldn't hide the smile tugging at her mouth. "So what are we now?"
He tilted his head, thoughtful. "Complicated?"
"Always."
Before either of them could say more, Lila popped into their row from the side. "You two are trending, you know."
Jamie groaned. "That can't be a good thing."
Lila just raised an eyebrow. "Depends how you spin it."
Skylar narrowed her eyes. "Wait. Did you post the photos?"
Lila held up her hands. "Nope. One of the freshman kids did. But I may have shared it to our club page. With tags."
Jamie laughed. "You're the chaos we didn't know we needed."
Lila winked. "Damn right."
The bell rang, and as students shuffled to first period, the hallway narrowed around them again. But this time, Skylar didn't feel boxed in.
She walked with Jamie and Lila to her locker. No one pushed past her like she didn't exist. No one muttered insults. One girl even smiled.
It was strange. Almost... too easy.
Until Marcus leaned against the locker beside hers.
"Well, well," he said, voice smooth and cutting. "So you're the queen of art projects now?"
Skylar ignored him, opening her locker.
He clicked his tongue. "You know it's all temporary, right? People forget fast. They'll turn on you again. Especially if you keep hanging out with Lila. She's got enemies."
Lila stepped forward, voice like a blade. "You mean you."
Marcus sneered. "I mean people don't like being made to look small."
Jamie moved next, inserting himself between Marcus and Skylar without a word—just enough to break the tension.
"Walk away," he said quietly.
Marcus glanced at Jamie's calm face, then Skylar's steady eyes, then scoffed and pushed off the locker. "Enjoy your fifteen minutes."
He walked off, but the air left behind him still crackled.
Skylar took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking. Jamie noticed.
"You okay?" he asked, eyes soft now.
She looked at him, then at Lila.
Then at herself in the small metal mirror stuck inside her locker door.
"No," she said. "But I'm learning to be."
Lila squeezed her shoulder, gentle and solid. "You're doing more than learning, girl. You're becoming."