If there was ever a time to run away and begin a new life, now would be it.

I stared in guilty silence at the girl – I didn't even know her name – hoping that one of us would say something that wasn't anything to do with Keefe. She was glaring at me accusatorily at me, as if I owed her an explanation on who I used to have a crush on. It wasn't even remotely her business.

"You probably texted someone else named Linh." I insisted, which, in retrospect, was not a good thing to do. But hey, you know what they say. Hindsight, 20/20. Foresight, zero.

"There's only one person named Linh Song in this area," the girl said. I suddenly noticed the watchful eyes of all my other classmates, watching me get caught in a lie. "Let alone with a brother."

I stayed quiet. Nothing I could say would possibly rectify the situation. And I'd heard good advice years ago that you should never volunteer information.

"Who was it really?" the girl stalked closer to me, once-overing me with a kind of glare that clearly took years to perfect. To everyone else, she probably looked like a slightly snarky, middle school girl. In that moment, to me, she looked like a viper with particularly pretty pink lip gloss.

"Does it matter?" I said coolly. The facade was crumbling quickly. "It's over. And it's my surgery. Why would I tell you?"

"Well, why didn't you start with that?" She said, smiling in that creepy. I've-caught-you-now way. "Why lie to us about Linh?"

"I don't know," I muttered. I had no idea why middle schoolers were so venomous.

"Is it because you're gay?" Another girl asked from the crowd, dropping subtext completely. My heart dropped in my chest, beating so fast I was worried I was going to have to go to the hospital again. I swallowed, taking a deep breath so I wouldn't become tachycardiac.

"Or, like, bisexual or something?" A boy in the back asked. "It's twenty-twenty-four, dude. It's fine to be gay, I guess."

On one hand, he was completely right. It's not like I would get stoned to death for being gay. But on the other, very panicky hand, I didn't want to come out to my entire class! I had this revelation in the hospital a couple days ago. It's not like I even like half my classmates, anyways. I only met them a couple times because Keefe happened to be popular. Beside me, Keefe spoke.

"Guys, it's whatever," Keefe said. "It's probably someone else, right? Someone from that girls' school across the road?"

I nodded stiffly. Keefe was good at diffusing situations between popular people. He was one of them, minus the meanness and the gossip.

"No, it's not," the girl scoffed.

"Come on, Tiff," Keefe insisted. "Just drop it, okay?"

"Are you guys' boyfriends, or something?" She asked.

"Or something," I muttered under my breath, but Tiff caught it.

"You're dating!" Tiff said, way too loudly. The entire class broke out into excited murmurs. There were the allies in the back, sending surprised, apologetic glances our way. And then there were the homophobes, who were laughing amongst themselves. Probably some joke that was always at the expense of someone.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," I muttered. I didn't wait for any reply. They didn't deserve answers to any questions. I sprinted out of there, and ran to the nearest bathroom, hoping to avoid any teacher that might be prowling the grounds.

I ran to the bathroom and sat on the lid of one of the stalls, folding my hands like a little kid. Under my breath, I kept mumbling "asrseholes". Which yes, serves no purpose, but it made me feel better.

"Fitz?" A voice asked from the bathroom, and I recognised it as Keefe.

"Keefe?" I said, my heart thumping in my chest. I pushed aside what that could possibly mean before tiptoeing outside the stall.

"I had a feeling you didn't need to actually use the bathroom," Keefe said, eyeing the floor, but sneaking glances of me.

"What gave it away? The pack of arseholes who just can't let it go, or the rumours that are definitely spreading about us dating?" I said drily, no hint of humour in my voice.

Keefe shrugged. "I don't mind."

Half of me wanted to remind him that I didn't like him, that he was a crush of the past. But the other half was shaking its subconscious head at me, telling me that it was all a lie.

"Me too," I said. Keefe looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. I swallowed. "But you know... it doesn't have to be all just a rumour."

"Getting mixed signals here," Keefe mumbled, and the look on his face was somewhere between wonder and fear.

I took a deep breath. For once, I was done making decisions based on how everyone else was going to react. Fuck what Tiff, or Sophie, or his parents might think. It had gotten me in a mess that had cost me everything. So, I padded toward Keefe. Our height difference was stark. I stood on my toes, so I faced him eye-to-eye and I kissed him.

It was somewhere between Hollywood and real life. A part of me was nervous; I hadn't kissed someone before. I had no idea how it worked. And my heart was speeding up, nearly thrusting out of my chest.

But there was the good.

And it was oh-so good.

There was Keefe, who made a squeak when I kissed him. I nearly pulled away, worried that I'd made him uncomfortable. But he rested his arms on my shoulders and kissed me back. It was only for a second, but it said enough.

"Does that clear things up?" I said, smirking. Keefe made a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh.

"Not nearly as much as you'd think," Keefe said, shaking his head. I laughed.

"Well, long story short, I like you," I paused. "Not as a friend."

"So, what does that make us," he asked. I bit my lip.

"Boyfriends?" I said, my voice rising an octave. "If you're okay with that."

"Okay with it?" He exclaimed. "I've been waiting for this!"

"What about the rumours?" I said, glancing at the bathroom door. Keefe shook his head.

"It's not like we can stop them now," he said. "Let's just... not worry about that."

I sighed contentedly. Worrying was my profession, but I could put it aside for the one thing I've wanted more than anything else.