Chapter 33

Rowan should’ve known peace never lasted.

It always came with an expiration date; one she ignored every single time.

They were sitting on the hood of Rowan’s car behind the gym, legs dangling, shoulders pressed together just enough to feel intentional but not obvious. The lot was mostly empty now, the late afternoon sun dipping low enough to cast everything in warm gold. Rowan’s phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it. Whatever it was could wait.

Lila was talking, something about a pep rally, something about how ridiculous the cheer captain had been acting, and Rowan was only half listening, too busy cataloging the way Lila’s laugh softened when it was just the two of them. The way she leaned closer without thinking. The way Rowan’s body had started to recognize her presence as something safe.

That was the dangerous part.

Rowan leaned back on her palms, head tipped up toward the sky. “You know,” she said casually, “if anyone from my team saw us like this, they’d lose their minds.”

Lila snorted. “They already are. You’re just late to the panic.”

Rowan smiled, but something in her chest tightened. She glanced around the lot out of habit, old instincts, always scanning. The field fence. The bike racks. The path that cut between the gym and the academic building.

And then she saw the phone.

A girl Rowan vaguely recognized a junior, maybe, always hovering on the edge of cheer events stood a little too still near the sidewalk. Her phone was angled just slightly wrong. Not pointed at the sky. Not at herself.

At them.

The click was quiet.

But Rowan heard it anyway.

Her stomach dropped.

Lila noticed the shift immediately. “What—?” she started, following Rowan’s gaze.

Their eyes met the girls at the same time.

For half a second, no one moved.

Then the girl blinked, flushed, and turned on her heel, disappearing down the path with her phone clutched tight in her hand.

“Oh my god,” Lila whispered.

Rowan stood so fast the hood rattled. “Shit.”

Silence slammed down between them, heavy and suffocating. Rowan ran a hand through her hair, heart pounding hard enough to make her dizzy. She could already see it, screenshots, group chats, whispers morphing into headlines by tomorrow morning.

Soccer captain. Cheerleader. Together.

There would be no careful choreography now. No choosing when or how.

Lila slid off the car more slowly. “That wasn’t subtle,” she said, trying for humor. It didn’t land.

Rowan turned to her, panic sharp in her chest. “I’m sorry. I should’ve—”

“Don’t,” Lila cut in gently. “This isn’t about you missing something.”

Rowan exhaled hard, hands curling into fists at her sides. This was it. This was the moment she’d been afraid of the one she’d been bracing for without ever admitting it. The moment where wanting Lila stopped being private and started being public.

Lila crossed her arms, not defensive, but protective like she was bracing herself. “Rowan,” she said quietly, “what happens now?”

Rowan opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

That silence did more damage than anything else could’ve.

Lila’s jaw tightened, just barely. “Okay,” she said, nodding once. “That’s kind of what I was afraid of.”

Rowan’s chest burned. “No—wait. I’m just thinking.”

Lila let out a soft, humorless laugh. “You’re always thinking.”

That stung because it was true.

Rowan stepped closer, lowering her voice instinctively even though they were alone. “This isn’t about being ashamed of you. You know that, right?”

Lila met her gaze, eyes steady but hurt flickering underneath. “Then say it.”

Rowan froze.

Say what?

That she liked girls? That she wanted Lila? That she didn’t care who saw?

She did care. God, she cared so much it terrified her. About her team. Her dad. The image she’d spent years building so carefully it felt fused to her bones.

But standing in front of Lila, watching her try not to fold in on herself, Rowan realized something ugly and undeniable:

If she didn’t choose now, she would lose her.

Lila’s voice was calm when she spoke again, and that somehow made it worse. “I’m not asking you to come out to the entire school on a Tuesday afternoon,” she said. “I’m asking if I’m worth you standing still for once instead of backing away.”

Rowan’s throat tightened.

This was the test.

She could feel it, clear and sharp. This was the line, before and after. The moment everything split.

Rowan took a breath that felt like it scraped her lungs. Then another.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I’ve never… done this. Let people see me like this.”

Lila nodded. “I know.”

“But I don’t want to hide you,” Rowan said, words tumbling out now, raw and unpolished. “I don’t want to pretend you’re nothing when you’re—” She stopped herself, heart slamming. She swallowed. “When you’re everything I keep thinking about.”

Lila’s breath caught.

Rowan stepped closer, close enough that Lila had to tilt her head to look up at her. “If that picture goes around,” Rowan continued, voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest, “I’m not denying it. I’m not letting anyone make it sound like you’re some rumor I couldn’t own.”

Lila searched her face, like she was looking for cracks. “You’re sure?”

Rowan nodded. Once. Firm. “Yeah.”

The tension between them shifted, not gone, not fixed but realigned. Like something locking into place.

Lila exhaled shakily. “Okay.”

Rowan let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her hands were trembling now, adrenaline finally catching up to her. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Lila repeated, softer. “That’s all I needed.”

They stood there for a moment, the weight of what had just happened settling in. The truth was already out there now, loose and uncontrollable. Rowan felt exposed but not hollow.

If anything, she felt steadier.

Rowan reached for Lila’s hand. This time, she didn’t hesitate. She didn’t check the parking lot.

She just held on.

Somewhere across campus, Rowan’s phone buzzed again. And again.

She didn’t look.

For once, the world could wait.