“She’s totally going to tell us today,” Jinx whispered loudly from the kitchen, crouched dramatically behind the counter like she was on a stealth mission. “I’ve got the flag ready. Told you it was obvious.”

Caitlyn, graceful even while buttering toast, didn’t look up. “She’s sixteen, Jinx. Let her say it in her own time.”

Vi leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, smirking. “Honestly, I thought she came out months ago. Have you seen her eyeliner lately?”

Jinx snorted. “Please. She’s got bisexual purple hair. She is the flag.”

That’s when the door creaked and you walked in, oversized black hoodie falling off one shoulder, dark red hair in messy waves, eyeliner sharp enough to cut. You paused, eyeing them suspiciously. They froze.

“Hey,” you said, soft and cautious.

“Hey, kid,” Vi replied quickly, suddenly casual. Jinx stretched like nothing happened, and Caitlyn calmly turned back to the stove, though her smile gave her away.

You padded across the room, socked feet silent. Isha was curled on the rug with a coloring book, humming to herself.

You sat beside her and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into you with a quiet, happy sound.