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A wave of heat rushed up her neck. Nice eyes? No one had ever said that before. She glanced back. Finn wasn’t looking at her; he was staring intently at his textbook, his ears bright red.

She didn’t pull away. But she didn’t lace her fingers through his either. Instead, she looked at him. “I like walking with you,” she said. “But I’m not ready to hold hands yet. Is that okay?”

“He’s okay,” Finn grinned. “But for the record? There’s no one else. I just like talking to you. Even when we’re not holding hands. Even when we’re just walking.” A month later, they were sitting on a bench in the park. Finn was strumming his guitar quietly. Lena was drawing in her sketchbook. She wasn’t drawing a crow this time. She was drawing Finn’s hands on the fretboard. Sexuele Voorlichting Puberty Sexual Education For Boys And

Lena’s heart didn’t do a drum solo this time. It just beat warm and steady. She thought about everything Ms. Klaassen had said. About fireworks versus lamps. About asking clearly. About the fact that “no” was always a complete sentence.

Lena kept that drawing of Finn’s hands. And every time she looked at it, she remembered: love isn’t about fireworks. It’s about the quiet courage of being honest. A wave of heat rushed up her neck

Finn looked confused. “Sophie? She was just asking about guitar lessons. Her brother plays.”

Later, she found Finn in the kitchen getting a soda. She glanced back

But then, at a party at a friend’s house, she saw Finn talking to Sophie, a girl from the parallel class. Sophie touched his arm. He laughed. And a terrible, ugly feeling bloomed in Lena’s chest: jealousy. It was hot and sour, like swallowing vinegar.