When we left the room ten minutes later, the grin was still firmly in place on both our faces. Noelle’s hand in mine felt like it belonged there, so much so that I wondered how I had ever gone without it. My steps were lighter now that I no longer had to suppress the urge to reach out, like an itch I couldn’t scratch, and even though there was an anticipatory flutter in my chest, it was nothing like the anxiety I would have felt two months ago.

Control was the key, I realized. For the first time, I was owning my narrative, without fear or restraint, and now there was nothing anyone could do to weaponize it. And besides, this time I wasn’t alone. Noelle’s hand held onto mine firmly, unapologetically, her boots hitting the floor with the determination of a soldier charging into battle. With her next to me, my back immediately straightened, chin raised, as if fear wasn’t even an option.

The reactions were all the same. In the entrance hall, we attracted some curious glances and whispers, but no one paused to look at us or met our eyes with anything different than a smile. I wasn’t surprised. With Noelle staring people down like she was practically challenging them to say something stupid to her face, I wouldn’t have dared to act up either.

Jasper and Seth all but cheered when we neared their table, prompting Noelle to give an exaggerated bow before she tugged me onto the bench next to her, her left hand staying intertwined with mine all throughout breakfast.

This was how easy it could be then.

° ° °

As it was a Sunday and none of us had any schoolwork to do, we spent most of the afternoon outside. After a walk through the Christmas-postcard woods that Mrs. Whitworth had encouraged all the students to visit after lunch, we made our way back to the castle. The snow crunched beneath our boots, glistening in the afternoon sun, the air crisp and cold enough to make all of us pink-cheeked. I hadn’t prepared for such a cold winter when I had packed my bags in September, but Noelle had found a pair of mittens in her drawer; now each of us was wearing one while we walked holding hands, keeping the other tucked safely inside the pockets of our coats. No one really spoke much, all of us too busy marveling at the icicles hanging off the trees and the autumn leaves encrusted in snow. It seemed like the world had been laid to sleep, dozing beneath the blanket of white that had settled, quiet and peaceful.

That was until a snowball suddenly came towards us at the speed of light, too fast for any of us to duck, and hit Seth right in the head. He made a soft sound of surprise, rubbing his temple.

“Okay, who the fuck threw that?” Jasper asked, dramatically twisting around to spot the perpetrator.

Noelle hid her grin behind her hand when a bunch of year-eight students took off running. I had to laugh when she bent down and gathered some snow in her hands, quickly and expertly forming a snowball. She aimed it right at Jasper, and it definitely would’ve hit him if he hadn’t stepped aside to dodge it in the last second, making it fly right at the person standing behind him.