Page 91 of Nobody in Particular

“This is about us. You know you’ll be brought up, Rose.”

Rose nods tersely. Oh, she knows. This is the part where she tells me what I’m cleared to say about her, right? My orders of the day from the palace?

“It is about us,” she agrees. “But it’s mostly about you. What doyouwant to say?”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised, and I take my time responding. I want to make sure I’m totally, definitely sure before the words leave my mouth. “I’m not going to fight it,” I say. “You can tell them I’m bi.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize that’s not what I want. Since the start of all this, I’ve had barely any control. I’ve been forced to hide my relationship with Rose. Dragged along to surprise double dates. Kissed by Harriet. Outed by whoever took that video of us. So, even though the thought of talking to a bunchof reporters about something this personal makes me want to pass out, or puke, or both, I have to.Somethingabout this has to be in my control. So, I tell the girls I want to speak for myself. Rose gives me a super long look—like she isn’t sure I’m in my right mind—but she doesn’t argue.

Molly is the only one brave enough to bring it up. “And if they ask about Rose?”

“You don’t have to lie,” Rose says quickly. “You can just say you’re not allowed to comment about me. The palace can release a statement about me later.”

But she has to know as well as I do how bad an idea that would be, how damning it would look to anyone already suspicious.

“Rose,” I say tightly to Molly, “is my very good friend. Like you and Eleanor. We’re a group of girls at boarding school. We’re close. But Rose is straight.”

There’s so much relief in Rose’s eyes I want to wrap her in a hug and assure her that she’s completely safe with me, and that I’d never do anything to hurt her. She can give me a loaded gun if she wants, but I’d never pull the trigger. Not now, and not in a hypothetical future where she’s only somebody I once knew. Like she said. It’s me and her.

“Then I’ll say the same,” Rose says.

Molly gives her a sharp look. “Youwill?” she asks.

Rose faces her with a look that definitely would’ve shut me up right away if she’d sent it my way. Molly obviously feels the same, because she looks away and shrugs, as if to say, “Whatever, not my business.” Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Rose is a princess, someone who’s had a lifetime of bossing people around and getting her own way. This is not one of those times.

I’m not sure why, exactly, Molly’s so confused by the idea of Rose speaking to the media, but I’m so overwhelmed by what’s about to happen to me that I forget about my confusion as quickly as it hits.

“Can you guys wait outside for a minute?” Rose asks Eleanor and Molly.

As soon as we are alone Rose begins to riffle through her wardrobe.

“What are you looking for?” I ask, but she’s already got what she was after. Her school cape.

“Wear this,” she says. “And give me yours once you’ve changed.”

So, I’ll be coming out to the world, while denying I have any history with Rose, while wearing her cape, after spending the night in her bed.

And she’ll be doing the same. Minus the coming out part.

I guess she’s searching for a shred of control, too. For a tiny bit of the truth to put on display, even as we loudly lie. It doesn’t erase it, or make it better. But I guess it’s all we’ve got to cling to.

I head back down to my room to change, and by the time I’ve finished, Rose, Eleanor, and Molly are waiting for me out front, wearing their full uniforms as well. I pass Rose my cape. Mine’s in better condition than hers—I guess I grew up doing my own laundry a lot of the time while Mom worked late, and Rose came to school after a lifetime of her clothes appearing washed and pressed in her wardrobe like magic. Her cape is covered in lint and has some deep creases across the back from being left on the floor for too long.

We head off in a tight group, the four of us. There’s a whole crowd of students hanging out at the front of the school just inside the gate. Some are talking to journalists but most are just watching. Waiting, I realize. For me.

I’m flanked by Molly and Eleanor, and Rose is on Molly’s other side. We have to be more careful than ever not to touch.

But I have her cape.

When the students notice us they part, forming a sort of hallway of bodies for us to pass through. It’s like being on the worst red carpet imaginable.

We’re swamped by the press at the gate. The majority of journalists head for Rose and me. A couple of wily ones think to speak to Eleanor and Molly. They won’t have the bigger story, but their quotes will be more exclusive. Props to them. Sort of.

I end up separated from Rose. And that’s when the fear hits.

I’m bombarded by camera flashes, turning the world a bright white. Everyone’s yelling at me at once, and my already-throbbing headache is building with a vengeance. I stand without saying a word,because what the helldoI say? The mini-speech I came up with in the room earlier has vanished from my mind, and I think it was only about Rose and me, anyway. But most of this has nothing to do with Rose, right? Most of this is me telling the world I’m bi.

Holy shit. I haven’t even told Mom. Everything’s been so panicked and scrambled and confused that the reality of this has only hit me right now.

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