Chapter Eleven: Somewhere That Doesn't Burn
The internet doesn't forget.
By the next morning, the photo had spread — not viral, but fast enough. Kira saw it first on someone's Instagram story, a blurry shot of her and Mina in the hallway, foreheads pressed together, hands joined. No caption. Just a timestamp. A moment.
By lunch, it was on Snapchat. Then Discord. Then some group chat she wasn't in but felt the edges of anyway.
People stared more than usual.
Not cruelly. Not yet.
But the weight of attention clung to her like humidity — thick, constant, cloying.
She kept her hood up through third period.
Mina sat beside her in fourth.
Didn't say anything. Just let her pinky hook around Kira's under the desk.
Kira didn't pull away.
Not even when the girl in front of them turned around and blinked too slowly, like she was trying to figure out what language they were speaking just by existing next to each other.
At lunch, they didn't go to the cafeteria.
Mina led her to the old art room on the third floor — the one that had been converted into storage but still smelled like oil paint and glue sticks.
Inside, it was quiet.
Kira sat on a folded canvas near the window while Mina paced in slow circles.
"Okay," Mina said. "So, maybe not my smartest move."
Kira raised an eyebrow.
"I mean, I meant it," Mina added quickly. "I still mean it. But I didn't think it'd spread that fast."
Kira didn't answer.
Mina sat down across from her. "Are you mad?"
"No," Kira said softly. "I'm… adjusting."
"To what?"
"Being seen."
Mina exhaled. "Yeah. That's the part no one talks about."
Kira glanced at her. "You were brave."
"You think?"
"I know."
"I felt like I was going to throw up afterward."
"You didn't look it."
"That's because I was too terrified to move."
Kira smiled faintly.
"I've never said something that true in front of that many people," Mina said. "I didn't even know if I could."
"You did."
"I wanted you to hear it."
Kira nodded.
A beat of silence.
Then Mina reached into her backpack and pulled out two slightly squished strawberry Pop-Tarts.
She held one out.
"For courage," she said.
Kira took it.
They ate in silence, knees almost touching, crumbs dusting their hoodies.
"I'm scared too," Kira said finally.
Mina looked at her.
"Not of you. Just… what people do with truth."
Mina nodded. "They twist it."
"Or pretend it isn't there."
"Or act like you owe them an explanation for existing."
Kira's voice dipped. "I don't want to explain."
"You don't have to."
"But I also don't want to disappear again."
"You won't."
Kira studied her face. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because I see you."
The words landed somewhere deep in her chest.
Not dramatic.
Not shouted.
Just said.
Like fact.
Like something already known.
Kira let herself breathe for a moment.
Then reached for her sketchbook.
She flipped to a page she'd been working on — a hallway drawn in fine, careful lines, but this time with two shadows walking side by side.
"I started this before the assembly," she said.
Mina leaned over her shoulder. "That's us."
Kira hesitated. "Is that okay?"
"More than okay," Mina said. "It's kind of perfect."
They stayed there for most of the period, the school noise muffled behind layers of paint-streaked walls.
When the bell rang, neither moved right away.
"I don't think I want to go to sixth," Mina said.
Kira blinked. "We'll get marked absent."
"Let them mark us."
Kira closed her sketchbook. "Where do you want to go?"
Mina's smile was quiet. "Somewhere that doesn't burn."
They ended up on the rooftop again.
Technically off-limits.
But the latch was easy to lift with a bit of pressure, and no one checked the fire escape this time of day.
The sky stretched wide above them, pale blue and blameless.
Mina sat on the ledge with her legs crossed.
Kira sat beside her.
For a while, they just watched the clouds move.
"I used to think being seen would ruin everything," Kira said.
Mina glanced at her. "And now?"
"I don't know. Maybe I still think that. But it also feels…"
"Alive?"
"Yeah."
"Me too."
Mina reached for her hand again.
This time, Kira laced their fingers fully.
No hesitation.
No hiding.
"I'm not good at this," Kira said.
"At what?"
"Being in something."
Mina turned. "You don't have to be good. Just honest."
Kira looked down at their joined hands.
"I don't always know how to explain what I'm feeling," she said. "Sometimes it's like… too much, and then nothing. And I can't tell the difference."
Mina nodded. "I know that feeling."
"I want to try, though."
"I want that too."
They didn't kiss.
Not yet.
But something moved between them — something warmer than the sun, steadier than words.
Kira looked up at the clouds.
"I used to come up here to disappear," she said.
"And now?"
"I think I want to stay."
By the next day, the photo had cooled.
The school found something else to talk about — a fight in the parking lot, a new TikTok trend, rumors about prom court.
But for Kira, everything had shifted.
Not all at once.
But enough.
Mina met her by the lockers, like she always did now.
They walked slower in the halls.
Didn't flinch at the stares.
Didn't shrink at the silence.
At one point, Ms. Rowe gave Kira a quiet smile when she walked into English.
Didn't say anything.
Just the smile.
Like maybe she knew.
Maybe she'd known for a while.
In class, they were reading a poem about tides.
Kira's hand hovered above the page, eyes tracing each line like a map.
"There's this part," she whispered to Mina, "where it says, the water knows the moon better than any shore."
Mina leaned closer. "What does that mean?"
Kira tilted her head. "I think it means… some things pull us before we even understand them."
Mina smiled. "You always say things like that."
"Like what?"
"Like they were already true before you said them."
Kira didn't know what to say to that.
So she let the words rest between them.
Like an offering.
After school, they walked home together.
It was warm enough that Kira unzipped her hoodie.
Mina had headphones in one ear.
She handed the other to Kira.
"Listen," she said. "It's a song that reminds me of you."
Kira took the earbud, tucked it in.
The music was soft.
A girl's voice — gentle, aching, real.
If I could be brave in just one way, it'd be this.
Kira swallowed.
"Do you ever think about what comes next?" she asked.
Mina looked at her. "Like what?"
"When school's over. When we're not just hallway rumors and assembly speeches."
Mina nodded. "Sometimes."
"Does it scare you?"
"Yeah. But not the way it used to."
"Why not?"
Mina looked ahead. "Because I don't think we're just a moment anymore."
Kira stopped walking.
Mina turned.
Kira said, "Then what are we?"
Mina stepped back.
Held her face in both hands.
And kissed her.
Slow.
Certain.
Like she'd been waiting to give that answer all day.
When they pulled apart, Mina whispered, "We're the thing after. The part no one gets to erase."