Chapter Ten: They All Saw, But We Stayed
The school auditorium was too bright.
Rows of plastic chairs, a squeaky mic on a metal stand, the stage still smelling faintly of last week's science fair and too many nervous freshmen.
Kira hated assemblies.
Too many eyes.
Too many voices.
Too much everything.
She sat near the back, curled slightly into her hoodie, sketchbook across her knees like armor. Her pencil moved in slow, cautious lines — tracing the curve of a shadow, the slant of a hallway that only existed in her mind.
The speaker at the front was rambling about leadership. Or teamwork. Or some other word that didn't mean much.
None of it mattered.
Except Mina was sitting three rows up.
And for the first time since Thursday, she hadn't turned around once.
Something had shifted.
Kira could feel it in the air between them — not cold, but heavier than it should be.
Yesterday, Mina had pulled her behind the gym and kissed her like they were the only two people alive.
But today?
Today there was distance again.
And it wasn't coming from Kira.
After the assembly, the hallway exploded with voices.
Students spilled out in clumps, texting, shouting, laughing.
Kira moved slowly, clutching her sketchbook tight, eyes on the floor.
She didn't expect Mina to find her by the lockers.
Didn't expect the flash of hesitation in her eyes.
Didn't expect the words, "Hey, can we talk?"
Kira nodded. "Yeah. Sure."
Mina glanced around. "Not here. Come on."
They ended up in the band room.
Empty. Quiet. The scent of brass and old wood hanging in the air.
Mina closed the door behind them.
Then turned.
Her arms were crossed, but her eyes were soft.
"I didn't mean to ignore you," she said, before Kira could speak. "I just… something happened."
Kira's chest tightened. "What?"
"My mom."
Kira blinked.
"She saw the video."
A long silence.
"She didn't say much. Just asked if it was real. If it was me. If it was you."
"And you said?"
"I said yes."
Kira's voice dropped. "What did she do?"
Mina looked away. "She didn't yell. She just got really… quiet. And then she said, 'I hope this isn't a phase you're trying on for attention.'"
Kira winced.
"She told me not to post any more pictures. That I shouldn't invite 'trouble' by being reckless with my image."
"Your image?"
Mina's laugh was hollow. "Yeah. Like I'm a brand or something."
Kira didn't know what to say.
So she stepped closer.
Took Mina's hand.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I don't know."
"You don't have to be brave all the time."
"I know. But I don't want to disappear either."
"You're not," Kira said. "You're right here."
They sat down on the edge of the raised platform where the percussion section usually practiced.
Mina leaned into her.
Kira let her head rest on Mina's shoulder.
"I hate that people think they get to decide who we're allowed to be," Mina whispered.
"They've always decided," Kira said. "We just stopped asking for permission."
Later that afternoon, the school hosted its spring open mic.
One of those well-intentioned events where everyone pretended not to care about performing, but secretly rehearsed all week.
Mina signed up.
Kira didn't find out until she saw her name on the list taped to the wall by the auditorium.
She stared at it for a long time.
Mina Park – Spoken Word
The event was already buzzing when Kira slipped inside.
A string of folding chairs filled with students, a few bored parents, and Mr. Nguyen trying to manage the soundboard.
Kira sat near the side wall, close to the exit.
She wasn't sure why she came.
Or why her chest felt like it might break open.
When Mina took the stage, the room quieted more than usual.
She stood there for a moment, papers in her hands, but didn't look nervous.
She looked ready.
Then she started to speak.
"This is for the girls who walk the long way around the hallway just to avoid being stared at.
This is for the quiet ones, the ones with eyes too big for their faces and mouths full of things they never say out loud.
This is for the girl who draws like breathing and listens like the world depends on it.
This is for the way her hand shakes when she holds mine — and still, she holds it anyway."
Kira stopped breathing.
People were listening.
Some confused.
Some smiling.
Some whispering.
Mina kept going.
"This is not a performance.
This is not rebellion.
This is not a costume or a story I'm trying on.
This is the truth.
And I'm tired of hiding it."
When she finished, there was a long pause.
Then scattered applause.
Then real applause.
Kira clapped.
Quietly.
But she clapped.
Mina's eyes searched the crowd.
Landed on her.
And stayed.
After, in the hallway, Kira waited.
She didn't move when Mina walked up.
She just said, "You didn't have to do that."
"I know," Mina said. "But I wanted to."
"Everyone knows now."
"I wanted that too."
Kira stared at her.
"I don't care if they talk," Mina said. "I care if you don't feel safe."
Kira swallowed hard. "I don't always."
"I know."
"But I feel safe with you."
Mina stepped closer.
Pressed her forehead to Kira's.
"Then we start there," she whispered.
Outside, someone took a picture of them.
Kira saw the flash.
She turned.
But didn't flinch.
Mina took her hand.
They didn't run.
They didn't hide.
They just stood there.
Letting themselves be seen.
Not for what others wanted them to be.
But for what they were.
Something quiet.
Something brave.
Something real.