about it.”
“I don’t have that courage.” The words tumble out like
they’re coming from someone else. “I wish I did. I wish I
could just tell everyone. I wish I didn’t feel like I have to
apologize for who I am. I wish that I was brave, but I’m not.
All I’ve ever done is hide.”
Adley’s face lights up. “You do have it! You do! You
have all the passion and courage in the world. Sometimes it
just takes time to find it. What did you tell me? That I just
needed the right situation and the right way to express it?”
“I wasn’t talking about that.”
“I know.”
My chest feels crampy. My heart feels strange. I’ve
never felt, truly, like I’ve belonged. I’ve always had this secret
that no one else knew, so I always knew that no one could
truly know me. But here I am. Open. Safe. I’m safe with
Adley. That cramp? It’s not a bad cramp. It’s a good pain. I
feel it all the way through me, right to my toes and my
fingertips and my wildly pounding heart. Suddenly, I feel like
/>
I’m on fire. I feel vulnerable. Afraid. Exposed, but not in the
terrible way that most people use that word. I feel free.
Adley is the first person who has ever seen me. She
knows, and I’m glad she knows. I’m glad it was her.
When I can actually focus past the gathering moisture
in my eyes blurring everything out, I realize that Adley isn’t
just looking at me like she sees me. She’s looking at my
mouth. At my lips. My heart goes into a frenzy and my
stomach cramps harder. My skin prickles with awareness, like
an experiment went wrong in the lab and charged the whole