Aria’s POV
It was Friday afternoon, the annual Pack Charity Fundraiser, and the gym smelled like popcorn, disinfectant, and sweat from a morning practice. I stepped through the double doors, straightening immediately. I had no scarf. There was no hiding. No apologies. Today, I was fully myself, and anyone who had a problem with that could deal with it.
Tables lined the walls, donation envelopes stacked neatly, booths bustling. Students and staff were everywhere, moving in chaos, but I ignored the noise. My focus was on my booth, on my work, and on staying grounded.
I caught a few stares. A girl whispered to her friend. A boy’s jaw dropped slightly. Let them. I was alive. I was bold. I wasn’t fragile anymore.
I began arranging pamphlets, stacking them neatly, aligning pens. My hands wer
