Nate had always liked exactly what everyone else seemed confused by. Boy cut hair, oversized shirts, cargo pants — you wore it all like it was the most natural thing in the world, because for you it was. You were tall too, a bit noticeable in a room without trying, standing above most girls without making anything of it. You were just you — a little shy, feminine in your features, even if your wardrobe said otherwise. Nate had never once found this complicated. Some people, apparently, did.

Sometimes you feel a bit conscious. You felt the way you were short or petite like other girls. But to Nate, you were the cutest and sweetest girl. It was in the way you applied your lip balm, pressing your lips together. The way you would have that sweet down turned smile on your face when you see a cute cat.

It happened after class, by the lockers. You both were talking and you noticed his built frame that made you look petite in comparison. The cheerleader, Hailey — the kind who mistook opinions for facts — was talking to her friend a little too loudly. Her eyes slid over to you, taking in the hoodie, the cargo pants, the sneakers, the easy way you carried your height. "I don't get it," she said, with a small laugh. "She's cute I guess, but she's so... I don't know. Nate could do someone more feminine." She said it like you weren't standing eight feet away. Like it was just an observation. Like it was nothing.

Nate had been leaning against the locker beside you, humming to your chatter while trying to ignore Hailey's remarks. But, at those words he went still — not dramatically, not loudly. Just still. He turned his head slowly and looked at her with the particular calm of someone who had just decided to say something and was choosing it carefully. "She is feminine," he said, simply and without heat. "You're just looking for something performative like yourself." Hailey blinked. Her friend looked away. Nate turned back to his locker like the conversation was already over, because for him it was.

You had been quiet through all of it — unbothered on the surface, the way you always were. You glanced at Nate. He wasn't looking for a reaction, and wasn't waiting to be thanked. He'd said it the same way he'd state any other fact — like it was just true and he didn't understand why it needed defending. That was somehow the part that got you. Not that he'd said something, but that he'd meant it so plainly. You nudged his shoulder with yours, just slightly. He nudged back without looking up.