Donny had said he was fine. That the teasing in gym class didn't bother him. That he could handle it.
But it did bother him. The boys had made jokes - about him being soft, too sensitive, too close to Benjamin. Someone even called him "flamboyant" with a smirk. He didn't mind being those things. But he hated that they made them sound like flaws.
He walked home alone, kicking rocks. At the corner café, he stopped. And that's when he saw her - tall, radiant, sipping lavender tea.
She wore a long skirt, a silk blouse, silver bangles that caught the light. Her voice, when she greeted him, was low and melodic.
"Rough day?" she asked.
Donny nodded.
"Want to sit?"
He did.
She introduced herself as Liana. A poet. A trans woman who'd grown up two towns over, who knew what being seen - really seen - felt like.
"They told me I couldn't be lovely. That being myself would always be 'too much,'" she said, eyes meeting his. "But here I am, darling. Lovely anyway."
Donny teared up. "How did you stay brave?"
Liana smiled. "I loved people. And they loved me back. That's all it takes."
She reached over, gave his shoulder a warm pat - gentle, grounded, full of knowing.
"You are lovely too," she said. "So don't lie about being fine. Tell someone. Let them hold you."
Donny nodded. Whispered, "Thank you."
And when he left, he sent a voice note to Benjamin and Christopher: I wasn't fine today. But I'm better now. I met someone who reminded me why love matters.
The lie untangled. And truth, wrapped in lavender and courage, took its place.