DRIIIIIIIIIIING !

"Ugh ! Math class," Tobias groans. He winks at me and whispers, "However... we'll be able to see Mr. Sneeze again."

"Shut up !" But I'm half-laughing as we enter the room.

Mr.Thomson is famous for his sneezes- well, at least in my friend group. They're high-pitched and adorable- and sound like they come from a tiny kitten, not a six feet, two hundred pound man.

"Attention ! Attention, kids !"

He starts droning on about geometry and triangles. Tobias makes eye contact with me and pretends to yawn in an over-exaggerated way. I allow myself a small smile before focusing once again on the class, when-

"Atchi !"

And the whole table errupts into laughter.

"Gentlemen ! Young ladies ! I do not see what is making you laugh ! Atchi !"

Which only makes us laugh harder.

"This behavious is most unacceptable ! Tobias and Arie, don't make me send you to                     the Principal !"

That got us silent quickly. We both don't like her-and the feeling is mutual. Here's the thing: Toby and I are a bit... different, compared to other normal, boring Midbury High students, and our Principal would win hands down at a Miss Conservative pageant.

****

Toby is gay, and I'm a lesbian. We've kinda always known, for ourselves and for each other. But nobody else knew, until we decided to tell our parents, way back in 7th grade. We planned it out for months, mapping out every single eventuality and every single outcome, how they would react, and how we would re-react. Of course, the day had to be perfect, which meant it happen on Pride Parade day. Needless of what our parents said, we would go, and tell each other how it went.

But those months of preparation were useless as I stood before them, my mouth dry.

"I have something to tell you."

My mom didn't say anything, whilst my dad errupted in a explosion of worry, firing questions like hot spurts of lava.

"You have a boyfriend ? No, you're pregnant !"

"No, nothing like that," I interrupted quickly, almost smiling at the irony of it. "I'm lesbian, and I'm going to Pride, no matter what you say." Without a word, they got up, put on their shoes and went with me.

Yeah, my parents are cool like that.

Turns out Toby also got a postivie reaction, as his parents admitted to him they had figured out years ago, whilst entering his room and finding drag accessories hidden in a closet.

***

Needless to say the Principal hates us with the most profound loathing you could ever imagine. Most of the school is accepting-lots of people actually said they supported me when I came out to the world, way back in 7th grade. But some never will, including the Prinicpal and some popular butt-holes (I was told to keep this PG-13) who seem to think we're a personal insult to their existence, and go out of their way to pin us down.

DRIIIIIIIIIIIIIING !

"Aww ! The highlight of my day is over !" pouted Toby. Terrible joke, but it made me laugh anyways, at least until I'm thrown to the ground, all the breath knocked out of me. I look up; the butt-holes have struck again. I just sigh and pick myself up. I have to ignore these things and bottle it up, ignoring the fact that one day, I will burst.

Dusting myself off, I notice a pair of white shoes. I would recognise them anywhere. Customised, hand-drawn swirls cover them from heel to toe, a rainbow of vivid colors. I look up, slowly, and my gaze slides up a pair of jet-black jeans, a turtle-green sweater, and a silver locket. Strawberry blond hair flows down her back, framed by two birds trying to escape a perfect golden cage hanging from her golden earlobes. Beautiful, like her.

Intelligence and kindness are noticeable even in her walk, in the way she sways her head, in the tap-taping of her wrist against her thigh, drumming along to the song she currently had stuck in her head. Right now, it was "Faith", by Stevie Wonder-I heard her humming it earlier.

Meet Dove Mason, my crush. Perfect in every way.

Only two, major problems which meant we would never, ever be together: her friends are the PIB clique, and the Principal's name happens to be Mrs. Mason.

***

End of English class, which means end of school, which means seeing Dove. Well, not really. Just making a detour to pass her as she waits for her bus. And not in a stalker-y way ether. Just... seeing her.

She's quite shy, and never bullied us, even though all her friends did. Sometimes she would even flash these apologetic smiles to me across the room, somehow making the sun shine brighter and the birds chirp louder. Once, she helped me get up from the ground, as I slipped. She was so gentle, and didn't smirk at my beet-root red face as she steadied me with her strong hands. I collect these small hints against my heart, hoping that they mean something more than just banal kindness.

There she is. My head snaps downwards and I avoid eye contact, walking hurriedly. Everyday, I tell myself that it's The Day, that I will go talk to her, that things will change, but I just end up passing by, my head bowed low with shame. I'm almost at the end of the street, almost about to turn around the bend, when-

"Wait !"

I freeze. No, not like those cool, sudden stops like in romance movies, as the love intrest runs in slow motion towards the protagonist. More like a deer in headlights.

"Hey." Her voice is soft, and close. I can't pretend I didn't hear, and I turn slowly. She smiles at me, a gentle smile, and I realise I'm actually a head taller than her.

"I just... I wanted to apoplogise to about my friends. They're..." She swallows; hesitation hides in plain sight in her eyes. "... brutes."

I bite my lip, palms sweaty, but manage to force out a: "That's okay. I'm used to it."

Passion takes over her face, sweeping away any hestitation she might have had before.

"No ! No," she repeats, more quietly. "You shouldn't have to suffer through it."

I don't know what to say. As usual, my head fell down, and my gaze landed on her nails. Perfectly painted and polished, but that wasn't what mattered. The colors. All shades of pink, purple and red. The lesbian flag.

I look up. My face aflame, I bite my lip, so hard it draws blood. Could it... is it a coincidence ?

Maybe it is the heat, maybe the apology, maybe the nails, but a few words renegade escape my mouth, with the bitter taste of instant regret:

"Do you want to go to the movies with me Friday ?"

Nonononononononono. What the heck did I just-

"Okay."

My jaw almost drops with suprise. Did she just...

Vroooooooommm

The bus pulls up as she hurriedly shoves a piece of paper into my hands.

"My number", she explains, "text me with the time and place."

She jumps in the bus and it pulls away, to the beat of my thundering heart.

***

The day eventually arrives, too slowly or too fast-I can't tell. I had spent half of the week jumping up and down in anticipation, and the other half in a constant panic attack.

No one knew, and I had felt a pang of nostalgia as I gingerly picked out my outfit for the night, alone, thinking about what Toby was doing at the same moment.

But the day finally arrives, and when I pull up in my white Toyota to the agreed pick up point, I almost ran into a pole in suprise. She is stunning. Decked out in a long, white dress that swirls to her ankles, her hair is pulled up in an intricate crown, flowers woven in and out of it. The birds are on her ears again, and her eyes glitter with excitement.

"I told my mom I was going out with Joe Slavin," she admits as she slid in the car, laughing.

"I look like him !?" I reel back in mock-offense, but can't stop a few rebellious giggles from escaping my lips.

She looks over to me, tears of laughter and exhilaration in her eyes, a smirk dancing on her lips. 

"Well..."

"Hey !"

I pretend to slug her in the arm, and we take off laughing.

***

There were a few silences, but they never turned akward. The rest of the time was filled with chatter about school, gossip, and our intrests. We found out that we were both huge Hunger Game fans, and that we were both Team Peeta. We also might have raced to the counter to pay for the popcorn and just ended up falling on each other, giggling hysterically and terrifying the whole cinema, but does that really need mentioning ? We also both agree the movie was trash (The Scary-Looking Monster II) and I confessed that I honestly just took the first one that showed up. It didn't really matter: we had such a great tme re-enacting the worst scenes                                   ("Scary-Looking ? Is it you ?!) that no grudges were held.

We're currently in the car, silent, driving towards the drop-off point. I'm driving at 3 miles per decade, trying to strech these last few seconds into minutes.

"You know," she starts, shattering the quiet, "I always thought you were so brave."

I don't say anything, instead I pull over and turn, my full attention focused on her.

"You've been out since, what, 7th grade ? In a school where you're basically the only memeber of the LGBTQ+ community with Tobias. People, my own friends, gave you crap for it, yet you never faltered. You've always been so strong. I wish I could be like you."

I think back on all those nights when I fell asleep crying, my sobs muffled by my pillow.

"I..." She takes a deep breath. "I'm a lesbian, Arie."

I close my eyes, emotion overwhelming me. I am so full with my love for her, I could burst.

"Am I... You know.. The first ?"

She nods, finally meeting my gaze. Smiling.

And then everything shatters.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DAUGHTER ?"

A pink, puffy face splatters itself against the half-open window. Oh. No.

Dove's eyes are full of panic.

"Mom, please, let me explain-"

"You tell me that you're out with Joe and then I find you here ? With a," she pauses for an instant, "Lesbian ? I go out for a stroll, and suddendly I stumble on you telling her you're one too ! MY OWN DAUGHTER ?"

"Mrs. Mason, don't blame your daughter, it was my-"

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh. You. Shut. Up. And you," she turns her attention to Dove, "Get out of the car. Now."

Reluctantly, she does, and I watch on, pain-stricken, as the Prinicpal slaps her across the face.

"YOU'RE NOT MY DAUGHTER !"

Dove stumbles backwards. Heartbreak is visible in every ounce of her body as she watches her mom turn away and stride back house-wards.

"Dove..."

But she races away at full speed before my words can reach her ears. I tumble out of the car onto the burning asphalt, and sprint after her.

I find her collapsed on herself in a forgotten meadow, the middle of nowhere, and ignores me as I sit next to her.

"Dove."

"It's your fault ! ALL YOUR FAULT !" She snaps at me, the suffering in her eyes morphing into anger.

"YOU LITTLE- !"

She is abruptly silenced as I kiss her, my hand sliding in her hair and supporting her head.

I've wanted to do this for years now. And it's more amazing than everything I've ever imagined. I'm falling, but flying at the same time; nothing is stopping us. When I finally pull away, we both have tears in our eyes.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, but I know that nothing I can say will help her.

In response, she kisses me back.

I close my eyes, stars dancing across my vision as I plummet towards them.

She turns her head suddendly, my lips brushing against her cheek.

"No. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have blamed you like that. It isn't your fault."

The silence hangs heavy between us, yet I can't say anything. It's her turn to speak up.

"I've aways known. And I've always also known that she would hate me for it. So I hated, no, loathed, myself for it. I tried going out with so many guys, but nothing would change me."

She smiles, a sad, bitter smile that breaks my heart.

"Nothing would cure me of what I thought of as a sickness. I believed something was wrong with me, so deeply wrong. And then I met you."

She pauses and inhales the night, before continuing.

"My whole life- my friends, my mom- were against what I secretly was. And I didn't know what to do. And then you appeared. And I fell in love with you. Instantly."

A tear rolls down her cheek, and I reach out to wipe it away.

She turns and our eyes lock.

"I love you."

I tuck back a strand of her hair.

"I love you, Dove. And I'll get you out of this. I promise."

She smiles again, but this time with a small glimmer of hope.

"You love the unloved," she says, before leaning in, once more.

***

That night, she bunked at my house (in two seperate rooms, don't panic- this is PG13, remember) and the next day, my parents went to go talk to hers. Apparently a lot of yelling was involved, but Dove's father agreed with mine, and in the end they won over the Principal. Dove went back home- but her mother refused to talk to her for months on end.                                                            

That was tough, and sometimes Dove would burst out crying in class. We were there to help her though, a group of supportive, new friends that accepted her as she truly was, and weren't the PIB clique.

Then her mom started to speak again. She avoids the subject of her daughter's sexuality with medical precision, but they are speaking again. Every day, her mom warms up to her, talks more to her, and though progress is slow, Dove is certain her mom will be able to accept all of her one day.

And then Dove will be unloved no more.