The days that followed Lily's presentation felt a little different.
No, the halls didn't magically grow kinder. Rachel still tossed her hair with practiced cruelty, and the whispers hadn't completely stopped. But something subtle had shifted—like the way frost starts to melt under early spring sun. It wasn't warm yet. But it wasn't freezing either.
And then came the real surprise.
On Wednesday, Sophie sat next to her in art class.
She didn't say much at first—just gave Lily a shy smile and started setting up her charcoal pencils.
Lily blinked. She didn't ask why. She didn't want to scare it off.
But the next day, Sophie sat there again. This time, she asked, "You draw every day?"
Lily nodded. "Mostly."
"What do you draw when you're not doing class stuff?"
Lily hesitated, then flipped open her sketchbook to a page filled with dreamlike landscapes. Floating trees, clouds that looked like whales, stars tangled in telephone wires.
Sophie leaned in. "That's wild. It's like—your brain's its own planet."
Lily blinked at that. A compliment. A strange one. But sincere.
"Yeah," she said. "Sometimes it feels like that."
Sophie laughed lightly. "Wish I could live there instead of here."
It was quiet between them after that, but not awkward. Comfortable. And for the first time in a long time, Lily didn't dread school. She still walked with caution, but now she wasn't walking alone.
---
At Fable & Thread, Lily arrived with a smile already blooming. The moment she stepped inside, she was wrapped in the scent of paper and tea and whatever old magic seemed to live in the air.
Nathan waved from behind the counter. "You're glowing. Either something good happened, or you're secretly radioactive."
Lily rolled her eyes, but the smile didn't leave her face. "Someone sat with me today."
Nathan raised his eyebrows. "Voluntarily?"
"Yes," she said, laughing. "And not as a dare."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter. "Sounds like progress."
"It is," she said, voice softening. "I'm not used to it. Being seen like that. Not the way Rachel and her group see me. Not like a target."
Nathan nodded thoughtfully. "Being seen can be just as scary as being invisible. Especially when you're used to hiding."
"Exactly," Lily said, grateful he always seemed to understand what she couldn't quite say.
"You let someone in," he said. "That's brave."
Lily stared down at her hands. "It didn't feel brave. It just felt… necessary. Like something cracked open and I couldn't go back."
Nathan smiled. "That's the best kind of change. The kind that sticks."
---
On Friday, Sophie found Lily at lunch.
"Hey," she said, tray wobbling slightly in her hands. "Do you mind if I sit here?"
Lily blinked again, then shook her head. "No. Go ahead."
Sophie slid into the seat across from her. Her lunch was mostly untouched, and she tapped her fork against the tray like a nervous drummer.
After a few minutes, she said, "So… Rachel used to be my friend. Kind of."
Lily looked up, surprised.
"Middle school stuff," Sophie explained. "We were in the same dance group. But she got meaner, and I got quieter. Eventually, I wasn't cool enough."
Lily swallowed. "That sounds familiar."
"She's worse to you," Sophie said quietly. "I saw it. And I didn't say anything. I should've."
Lily didn't know what to say. Part of her wanted to shrug it off, say it didn't matter. But it had. All of it had.
"Thanks," she said instead. "For saying something now."
Sophie nodded. "I just… I think people stay quiet because it's easier. But you made it not easy anymore."
Lily wasn't sure what she expected when she'd drawn that portrait. But she hadn't expected this. She hadn't expected connection.
At the end of lunch, Sophie hesitated. "Hey… there's this poetry reading next week at the library downtown. I'm supposed to read something. You don't have to, but… if you wanted to come, I mean, I'd like that."
Lily blinked.
An invitation.
"I'd like that too," she said.
As Sophie walked away, Lily's chest felt warm in a way that surprised her.
Maybe this was what something like friendship felt like—not loud or perfect or movie-worthy. Just… real.
And for the first time, Lily felt like maybe, just maybe, she was becoming someone she could believe in.