“My aunt eventually dragged me out of the house because, and I quote, I looked like ‘a sad potato.’” Shirley snorted, warmth easing into her chest. Richard smiled, “She didn’t transform me,” he said gently. “She just reminded me I didn’t have to fold in on myself all the time. The rest… I had to choose. I had to show up.” Shirley’s eyes softened. “I’m really glad you did.”
He looked at her, steady and grateful. “And I’m really glad someone missed me.” Around them, the whispers softened. The bullies avoided looking at him. The prom-royalty front-runners suddenly didn’t seem so confident. And Shirley felt herself settle into the moment, something warm blooming beneath her ribs.