Chapter 3

The next lgbtq+ event is on Thursday, I've heard, and I can only count on my luck that Laure will come again. After all, I have no other way of reaching out to her, and even if I did, I would probably freak out before anything significant actually happens. 

Never mind my rambling on, I should get to the important part.

On Thursday morning, I dress myself up in the best outfit I have-- a loose but bright jumper over my short skirt, with black leggings and boots. It's still cold, but I decide to risk it for a bit of glamour. When I arrive, it's still very early, and only sparse bunches of people have gathered around the stands. I find the woman from the other day, and she stretches an over-enthusiastic smile over her face upon my arrival.

"Wanna do your speech today? It doesn't have to be very long. You know, a simple recount of..."

The rest of her words lose themselves as panic swims around in my head. A speech? Seemingly the only way to get Laure to notice me. Seemingly impossible for a freak like me.

But then...

I nod before I can regret it, and with shaking legs I am lead backstage. The lady pins a mike on me as I survey my surroundings.

A boy loitering around, as if waiting for someone. A young girl, her face all scrunched up with emotions unknown to me. A teenager, shielding their eyes from the sun. A woman, with long gold earrings and a black suit. 

Wait.

Isn't that Laure?

I resist the urge to crane my head and get a better look. I try to pretend nothing's wrong, totally not like I'd just met the girl I'm pretty sure I have a serious crush on. Instead, a tousle around my pixie cut, smooth my clothes, and bite my fingernails as I nervously wait for my turn on stage.

"Lynn?" the woman gestures to me. I rush on stage and almost lose my balance, wondering how on earth she knew my name.

"Hi!" I squeal timidly into the microphone. "Umm, today I'm here to talk about the importance of a lack of ignorance. Although many of us disregard the harm that minor aggressions can cause in our daily lives, this is actually very fundamental to--"

I manage to dole out almost half of my speech when my mind suddenly goes blank. The speech I had written and worked on memorizing for the past week dissolves into thin air as unyielding panic takes its place. My legs go weak beneath me, and before I can realize it, I've whispered a tiny"thank you!" and ran off the stage.

And, as if things weren't bad enough already, I tripped on a wire and fell face-flat on the floor with a quiet whelp. 

"Are you okay?"

I don't look up just yet, momentarily frozen by the charismatic voice. It wasn't special, really, but it made me feel at home for reasons I couldn't explain. I was also surprised someone had offered help; transfixed by that courage I wished I could someday acquire. Forgetting myself, I take the hand offered and straighten up.

Almost immediately, my eyes meet those of Laure's. She smiles at me, and, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious, I scan my clothes. They are still in place.

"Cute dress," she comments, and walks away at last after I manage a weak thanks. The warmth of her hand lingers, and for the first time in my life, I don't feel completely cold and alone.

I limp down the stage and wonder for the rest of the week if she really meant that comment.