So, I'm pretty sure I'm gay. No. I'm definitely gay. Peyton Kelly likes girls because she is gay. I've thought it a million times.

Most times were when I was trying to convince myself that I wasn't. That it was a phase, or something that all girls probably experienced at least once in their life. Other times, when I was finally coming to terms with what a lesbian was, and I realized the truth.

But I've never said it aloud, and I wasn't planning on starting now.

Of course, there are other LGBTQ+ people here at Branton High. The fear of being the only one wasn't what was preventing me from coming out. No. But one of the reasons is because the group was small, and everyone knew everyone's business, and all the drama went to the head of the group.

Jacqueline Ross.

There are many reasons I haven't come out yet, not even to my best friend, but the main reason was because of Jacki.

See, Jacki Ross is your typical pretentious, high school mean girl, and I appreciate and cherish my status here at Branton High too much to jeopardize it. And maybe I am a fraud for encouraging people to be themselves while I actively refuse to do the same, but there were ways for the truth to leak through the cracks, and Jacki was the last person I wanted to know I was a lesbian.

Now, Jacki and I go way back. We grew up here in Branton, Georgia, went to the same schools, were on the same sports teams, and ended up in the same clubs. She's in every yearbook that I own. That's how far back we go.

Her feud with me started sometime between middle and high school, but I have no factual idea why she doesn't like me. Maybe it's because I'd beaten her out for class president ever since we were freshmen. Or maybe her competitiveness started earlier on, like when I made the all-star soccer team when we were twelve and she didn't. Or when I beat her at our sixth-grade spelling bee. It didn't seem like a reason to hate me, but it's all I could think of.

Moral of the story: Jacki can absolutely not know that I am gay because she would certainly use it against me, and I couldn't have that.

"Have you met the new girl?" Gwen asks, which pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Uh, yeah, vaguely," I reply, trying a little too hard to seem uninterested. "I gave her a tour this morning."

"She's pretty out there." She laughs. "And by out there, I mean, she's clearly gay and doesn't care who knows."

Oh, trust me, I think to myself. I noticed.

"She's in bio with me, but Jacki couldn't stop talking about her in theater class."

I'm not surprised by this. Gossip about the new kid always happens, and since Jamie is clearly gay and from Chicago, she's all everyone would talk about, at least for the next week.

Plus, Jamie is really cute.

"So, I'll see you after fourth?" Gwen wonders. "We can leave for lunch. I'm sure Darian and Gibbs wouldn't mind."

"Sure," I agree.

Gwen leaves my side as I scan the area for Jamie. I know she has this class with me, and the starting bell was about the ring. This girl sure likes to be late, huh?

I walk into the familiar art class I've come to every single year since I started high school. It's a personal safe haven because art is something not many people know I enjoy, so it allows me to be able to shut off for at least an hour of my day.

Then the late bell rings and I roll my eyes. Jamie is late. Again.

The teacher begins taking attendance as I get comfortable in a chair. My eyes glance at the door occasionally, anticipating the arrival of a cute brunette with pretty, hazel eyes.

"Peyton?" Mr. Zephyr calls. "Fourth year in a row?"

"Of course, Mr. Z," I answer.

He just gives me a quick smile before continuing.

"Jamie Kendall?"

No answer.

"No Jamie today?"

I sigh. "She's here..."

"I'm here!" Jamie calls as she barges through the half-open door. "I'm here. I'm sorry. I got turned around and..." Her voice trails off from exhaustion. I find it adorable that she ran here.

"I'm here," she finishes.

"First days are tough, kid," Mr. Z says. "Have a seat anywhere you'd like."

The class itself is small. There are maybe ten of us altogether, but there are plenty of seats in the spacious room. I usually sit by myself and away from everyone because it helps me relax.

But Jamie chooses the seat right next to me.

"Hey," she greets. "Do you mind if I...?"

"N-No, go ahead," I stammer.

Jesus, get it together.

She sits and I get a whiff of her perfume. It's strong, but not too strong. I recognize the scent of lavender.

"Were you gonna to cover for me?" she asks with a teasing smile.

I blush. "Yeah, I was."

"Thanks." She leans back in her chair. "This school is more confusing than I thought."

I smile to myself and determine that if she had paid more attention to the tour this morning rather than to me, she might've remembered her route. Although, I can't say I'm disappointed over it.

Mr. Z finishes with attendance and begins handing out flyers, probably for supplies we would need for his class. I accept mine even though I've practically memorized it from being in his class over the last three years.

As I place my list in a folder that's returned inside my bag, Jamie struggles to shove her list between two notebooks, crinkling the sides. When she's done, she leans back and looks at me.

"I meant to say this earlier but, I wouldn't have pinned you as an art geek," she says.

Having her attention makes me feel like I'm on a stage.

"I can say the same about you," I reply.

My answer unintentionally ends the conversation.

She scans the class. "Do we do anything or...?"

I shrug. "Not usually. He gives us a few days to get our supplies and stuff."

"Sweet."

The conversation dies again. I can't blame her for ending it. I'm not being particularly talkative. It's just weird, and she's cute, and usually I'm more confident and outgoing.

"S-So, why Branton?" I ask.

She pulls her eyes away from her phone. "My mom's job laid her off and she decided to move back to her hometown."

"Your mom is from here?"

"Apparently." Jamie laughs. "I can't picture my mom growing up in a town like this."

"Don't write it off just yet," I suggest.

She tilts her head. "I've been here since the beginning of July. What the hell do you do for fun around here?"

"Lots of things." I defend. "Parties, pool days, go to the lake, fishing, hunting..."

"You've lost me."

"We find ways to entertain ourselves." I laugh. "Besides, Atlanna isn't too far."

"Nice accent," she teases.

"What do you mean?"

"The way you say Atlanta," Jamie informs. "It's cute."

I'm caught off guard by her comment and my face heats up. While I fumble a response, she just gives me a smile before returning to the lengthy paragraph she's typing. I assume it's probably her friends back home checking in on her first day.

I retrieve my notebook and begin doodling, all while picturing Jamie in my head. I can't deny that I might be slightly infatuated with her. I mean, she's a cute girl from a big city that's far away from this small town. She's considered a rarity around here.

The bell rings after about thirty minutes of me doodling, and when I pull back, I realize the figure resembles the girl I had been daydreaming about. I quickly close the notebook, so she doesn't see.

"So, I think the only place you haven't showed me is the cafeteria," Jamie says as she walks next to me.

"Right, well, it's just across the quad," I answer.

We walk together in silence, but the feeling of underlying tension surrounds us. And only for a moment does her hand graze mine, which sends electric currents throughout my body. I refuse to look up at her because I'm afraid she'll be able to see the red on my cheeks. It happens a few more times before we finally make it to our destination.

"This is the cafeteria..."

"Chicago!" I hear a familiar voice yell. I immediately recognize it as my friend Darian.

Both Jamie and I look up to see Gwen, Gibbs, and, of course, Darian walking in our direction.

My three closest friends couldn't be more opposite. We have Darian Martin, the six-foot, bulked-up jock with a killer smile and warm, brown skin. I notice from afar that he's gotten stronger from summer football conditioning.

Then there's Gwen Richardson, the typical blond, captain of the cheer squad that stands at about my height and wore different color nails every week. People used to think we were sisters when we became best friends sophomore year.

And Hunter Gibson, AKA Gibbs, who stands just a bit taller than Darian – who also plays football. He's a brick wall compared to Darian, with shaggy brown hair that sticks out from under his backwards baseball cap.

Jamie tells my friends hello as I wait for Darian to explain his sudden outburst. He must've seen the confusion on my face.

"Chicago sits next to me in English class." He drapes a muscular arm over Jamie's slim shoulders. "She's the coolest lesbian at this school and she just got here."

I feel my face redden.

"Uh, Jamie, this is Gwen," I introduce.

They exchange smiles.

"And this is Hunter, but we call him Gibbs."

Gibbs sticks out his hand. "Maybe we can be each other's wingmen."

Jamie laughs. "Maybe so."

Darian slaps Gibbs' chest. "He needs all the help he can get."

Jamie seems to mesh well with my friends, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Being around her brings out emotions I've been able to hide so well, and it scares me.

"Do you have a fifth hour?" Darian asks Jamie.

"Nope."

"Perfect, 'cause we're leaving for lunch if you wanna come?" he offers. "It'll be a lot better than the food they serve here. I promise."

All my friends agree that she's welcome to tag along except for me, but no one really notices with all the excitement. Jamie inevitably agrees to join us.

We pile into my car, filling it to max capacity.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

Everyone shouts different places, and as they hash it out, my eyes find Jamie in my rearview mirror. She sits in the back, between Gibbs and Darian, but doesn't seem to mind as she throws me a smile. I tear my gaze away as I back out of my parking space.

As much as I like Jamie, I hadn't expected her. She's like a sudden downpour on a beautiful summer day. It's threatening, but deep down, I love the rain. I can see the clouds in the distance, the wind's invisible force shaking the trees while lightning and thunder cracked.

And this storm had the potential to dismantle everything.