Chapter 134 

It was 7:00 a.m., and the air outside felt different–like it had been sprinkled with something fizzy and electric. Not the usual drag your feet to class kind of air. No, this one was filled with excitement, nervous chatter, cute little rolling suitcases by Amber’s girls gang, and the unmistakable scent of early morning freedom. 

I adjusted the strap of my backpack, the one I’d carefully packed the night before. Just the essentials for a one–night stay: a fresh outfit, a hoodie for the cold bus ride, travel–sized skincare bottles, a tangle of charger cords, my sketchbook, and a book I probably wouldn’t even open. 

Yeah, the trip is on, baby, and I am going to enjoy it to the fullest with my friends. 

Museum of West Sterlingo–finally. 

I’d only heard about it until now, but today, I was finally going to visit. 

The school had already planned and shared the schedule with everyone. The bus would head straight to the museum, arriving at 10 a.m., and we’d stay there until 1 p.m. After that, we’d soak up the sun at Westside Beach, chilling there until sunset, followed by a night at Lux Hotel–yes, the luxurious free- star hotel–sponsored by none other than Dan Sterwalt himself. 

I had to admit, having a stepdad with near–godlike influence in West Sterlingo definitely had its perks. 

The school’s official plan was nice and all, but let’s be honest–trips never go as planned. 

Especially school trips. 

They always ended up messier, weirder, louder, and a hundred times more fun than the sanitized version handed out on paper. 

And I couldn’t wait for that part. 

Around me, everyone buzzed like bees in a shaken–up hive–friends hugging, people showing off their packed snacks like trophies, some half–asleep zombies still clinging to their travel pillows. 

Then came the voice that sliced through all of it like a chalkboard scratch. 

“Okay, so everyone, listen to me,” Mrs. Delfort announced, clearing her throat with that signature mix of power and exasperation. 

Everyone began to slow their chaos, if not stop entirely. 

“There are two buses,” she continued, raising her clipboard like it was a royal decree. “One is for boys, and one is for girls. I hope you all know what to do 

next.” 

And then–just as expected–it happened. 

A hand went up. A very intentional hand with black nail polish, an edgy buzz cut, and a trio of piercings that glinted under the early sun like little rebellions. 

“No, we don’t.” 

The voice sliced through the air like a blade. Sharp. Unapologetic. The girl stood tall, arms crossed, chin high. “I’d like you to explain it well.” 

And that wasn’t a curious request. That was a challenge. 

A charade dripping with defiance. 

A direct hit. 

I didn’t need a crystal ball to know where this conversation was headed. 

1/4 

Chapter 134 

LGBTQ+ 

The very binary Mrs. Delfort didn’t take the bait, or did she? “Boys will go to the boys‘ bus, and girls will go to the girls‘ busy she said, her voicEZ CON hope now it’s clear.” 

Oh, here we go. 

“And what about us?” the same girl asked, her tone still cool but laced with fire. Her buzzcut gleamed under the rising sun. Her black lips didn’t tremble 

Not once. 

Feigning innocence—or should I say, ignorance–Mrs. Delfort smiled with her lips, not her eyes. “Haven’t I made myself clear?” she asked. “Girls will go to girls.” 

“But I don’t identify as one.” That girl’s voice didn’t waver, 

Mrs. Delfort rolled her eyes. “I don’t care, Briana. This is a school trip. Not one of your rainbow rallies.” Her words snapped like a ruler on skin. “I get paid to teach you chemistry, not to solve your gender puzzle.” 

Oof. 

Gasps swept through the crowd like wildfire licking dry grass. Someone coughed awkwardly. I bit the inside of my cheek. 

“Then you may leave,” Briana shot back, voice still calm–but with a deadly calm, the kind that comes before the storm. “We’re definitely not studying chemistry today, are we?” 

She looked around. And people looked back. Nods. Small but visible support. I nodded too. Not out of alliance to either party–but purely because ! loathed Mrs. Delfort. 

And just as the tension reached that fragile breaking point- 

“Enough!” 

The single word cracked through the chaos like thunder. Even Briana flinched. 

Mr. Smith. 

Tall. Stern. Voice like an avalanche. 

“You will sit in the girls‘ bus, Briana,” he said flatly. 

“But, Dad-” 

Wait–Mr. Smith was Briana’s dad? How come I didn’t see that coming? 

“All of you,” he interrupted her, checking his watch, “have ten minutes to get into your buses. If you’re still out here at 7:14 a.m., you are gladly not welcome.” He then pointedly looked at Briana and added, “and this command is gender–neutral.” 

Cold. Brutal. Final. 

The group started shifting. Shuffling. Moving toward the buses like startled birds. 

Briana didn’t move. 

She just stood there–jaw clenched, shoulders squared–but her eyes? 

Her eyes weren’t just angry. They were shattered. 

And though I was straight, I understood that thunder she was hiding in her silence. Because no matter what gender you are, you can fight against the whole world–but fighting against your family? That’s the hardest battlefield of all, Even the greatest warriors crack in that arena. 

Chapter 134 

And as the crowd swallowed her still figure, I carried that dull ache with me all the way to the girls‘ bus. 

I climbed in, and just as I was about to breathe, the universe decided to mess 

“Lucy!” 

with me again. 

It was Sheela, waving from the very last row. “Come here! We chose the backseat so all three of us can stick together!” 

Rubina sat beside her, beaming, patting the seat in invitation. 

My heart warmed. My friends. My comfort zone. 

I smiled, already moving forward when- 

“Lucy!” 

Another voice. Softer, but just as deliberate. 

Clara. 

She took off her headphones and smiled at me, patting the empty spot beside her. “Here, I saved the seat for you.” 

And there it was. 

The mess I was talking about. 

I stood frozen in the aisle, backpack tugging on my shoulder, heart tugging in opposite directions. 

Sheela and Rubina were my close friends–the kind who knew me very very very well and so did I. My heart–and brain–both told me to go to them. 

But then, there was Clara. 

The girl who had shared her grief with me. The one I’d been getting closer to lately–my new friend. 

She had saved me a seat. She wanted me next to her. How can I deny her? 

And just like a patient with dissociative identity disorder, another version of my heart–and brain–told me to go to her. 

All three girls stared at me like they were watching the World Cup finale and I was the one holding the fate of their team in my next move. 

“Could you just move?” Behind me, someone muttered. “Damn! What the hell is she waiting for?” 

The bus engine purred beneath my feet like it, too, was waiting to see which way I’d tip. My heart thudded so loud I could hear it in my ears. 

1 felt like I had stepped onto a landmine. The only way to avoid an explosion? Stay completely still. 

But time was ticking–and I had to move. 

And if I did? BOOM. A blast. Shattering hearts into billions and multiplying guilt into gazillions. 

To be continued…