Nicola Yoon

“Thing is, though,” he said, “if I can’t love and accept myself just as I am, why the hell would I expect anybody else to?”

I can’t fight away a smile. “Will you remember this?”

“Forever.”

Earlier, Mrs. Tucker asked him where he was from too.

“Earth,” he said. “Still debating if I’m staying, though.”

The class group chat agreed—he’s our favorite bus driver so far.

When I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.

turns his head, letting his cheek rest against my leg.

“What happened to us?” he whispers.

And for the first time, I’m not entirely sure.

He turns his head, letting his cheek rest against my leg.

“What happened to us?” he whispers.

And for the first time, I’m not entirely sure.

I can’t fight away a smile. “Will you remember this?”

“Forever.”

I can’t fight away a smile. “Will you remember this?”

“Forever.”

I can’t fight away a smile. “Will you remember this?”

“Forever.”

I can’t fight away a smile. “Will you remember this?”

“Forever.”