Our lunch table rendezvous never happened. At school, I didn't see Adam except for brief glimpses during lunch period. He insisted I avoid him, that I try to make friends without the stigma that followed him. The truth was, he avoided me and I could not make friends with Jill and Mason's crowd. Not when every glimpse of Adam produced a round of sneers and slurs. They were intolerable. So I sat by myself, but Adam continued to duck out. It stung, as if he didn't wish to be seen with me 'for my own good'.

Once we were out of school, it was another matter. In the woods, amid the blue wildflowers and quiet swirling pools, we existed in our own world. No jeers or scorn reached us here, no one could touch us. We spent many afternoons dangling our feet in the water, talking, laughing, and learning about one another. I made it my mission to bring out that earth shattering smile he hid so well. Smiling was difficult when certain subjects sat like landmines between us, buried until they exploded in my face.

"Why don't you come over dinner Friday night?" Adam wasn't the first boyfriend I'd had, but relationships were tricky. I never knew if we would pack up and move the next week. I'd never extended an invitation like this before, never been in a relationship long enough and stable enough to go further than casual dating.

Adam went quiet, staring up at the cotton candy clouds floating through the sky. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said at last. His tone was remote. I rolled over, frowning at the distance in his face.

"Why not?"

His jaw clenched. "You honestly think your mother won't have a problem with you dating...someone like me?"

I blinked at him.  I explained to him at length what a free thinker my mother raised me to be. How we shared the same sense of morale and equality for all "Of course not."

Adam lifted his head to glare at me, frustration and pain in his eyes. "I seriously doubt that," he scoffed.

I jerked away from him. What was his problem? The glade seemed to darken around us, as if the forest could sense the turn in our moods. "What would your mother think of me if I came over?"

Adam covered his eyes with his forearm, releasing a heavy sigh. "You won't be coming over any time soon," he said, blunt and aloof. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest at his words. The wind picked up through the trees. My hair flew into my eyes, disguising the tears gathering in them.

"Don't you want her to meet me? To see you have someone who could make you happy?" Who loves you? I didn't trust myself to say such words out loud, not when I was so uncertain of Adam's feelings. He enjoyed our time together, but wouldn't sit with me at lunch, or walk home with me, or anything beyond the borders of the wood. Nothing in public, almost as if...

"Are you ashamed of me?" I sat up, hugging my knees against the sudden chill in the air. When had it grown so cold? Adam peeked at me from under his arm and blanched.

He rolled over, sliding his hands over mine. "No, no Riya. Why would you think that?"

"You won't even sit with me at lunch. You said you'd try," I sniffed, feeling ridiculous. Adam told me repeatedly it was a bad idea, but his refusal to elaborate on why left me wounded and raw. "You might hate the idea, but I want to be seen with you. I want people to know we're together."

Adam flinched at my words. His cinnamon eyes were dark when they met mine, burnt out and flat. "You didn't grow up in this town. Or with these people," he looked away. His throat worked, strained by the conflict he was attempting to clarify. "My own mom can barely look at me. She forgets to call me Adam half the time and looks embarrassed when she does. My father hasn't spoken a word to me in months. He doesn't acknowledge my existence. My friends--" Adam broke off with a horrible bark of laughter. There was so much pain in his voice, so much self loathing. I couldn't imagine what he'd gone through.

Rain began to fall, icy as it pelted on our skin. It slammed into us, beating us until we were numb. I looked at Adam's tortured face. The weather reflected his anguish and my anger ebbed away. I pulled him close, wrapping my arms around him, running my fingers up and down his back as I felt him shudder with soundless sobs. The rain slowed, growing softer and warmer, until it was a soothing caress.

I peered up through the branches as I held him. Beneath my internal skeptic, I knew the forest felt what we felt. I couldn't explain it or make sense of it, but I knew in my bones our sanctuary felt Adam's pain as keenly as I did.

"What do you want Adam?" I asked, whispering in his ear. He stilled, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"I want to walk with you down main street," he said. "I want to sit with you at lunch and hold your hand on the way to class. I want to take you to prom and have my mother take pictures of you in a beautiful pink dress."

I couldn't help but grin. "You think I'd look good in pink?"

"I think you'd look pretty in pink," he said. I good feel the smile in his voice.

"Then let's do it," I said. Adam buried his face in my wet hair.

"I wish it were that easy," he said.

I pulled back to look him in the eye. "It's not easy, not at first. But I accept you, all of you," I said, squeezing his shoulders. "Baby steps. Sit with me at lunch tomorrow."

His expression was wary but after a moment he nodded. The rain had stopped, leaving a gentle breeze. Aside from the dripping leaves and our damp clothes there wasn't a trace of the sudden storm.