The rumors didn't wait.
They never did.
By the next morning, Northcrest High felt different — not louder, but sharper. Like every whisper had teeth now.
Aira felt it the moment she stepped inside.
Eyes followed her.
Not curious ones.
Judging ones.
Sia grabbed her arm immediately. "Okay, I'm officially mad."
Aira blinked. "Good morning to you too."
"They're spreading stuff," Sia hissed. "About Reyhan. About you. About Mira."
Aira's chest tightened. "What kind of stuff?"
"The ugly kind," Sia said. "The 'history repeats itself' kind."
Aira exhaled slowly.
She'd known this was coming.
She just hadn't realized how fast people could turn someone else's past into a weapon.
In the hallway, a group of girls stopped talking the second Aira walked by.
One of them muttered,
"She'll learn soon enough."
Aira stopped walking.
Turned.
"Learn what?" she asked calmly.
The girl blinked, clearly not expecting confrontation.
"Nothing," she scoffed. "Just saying… Reyhan doesn't exactly have a clean record."
Aira held her gaze.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't raise her voice.
"Neither do rumors," she replied.
Sia nearly clapped.
The girl rolled her eyes and walked away, but the damage lingered.
---
Reyhan found her near the lockers.
Not because she texted him.
Not because someone told him.
Because he felt it.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
She nodded. "People are being people."
His jaw tightened. "What did they say?"
Aira hesitated.
Then decided not to protect him from the truth.
"They think I'm going to be your next mistake."
That did it.
Reyhan's shoulders stiffened.
He turned away sharply. "I knew it."
Aira stepped closer. "Reyhan—"
"This is why I didn't want you dragged into it," he said, voice low. "They don't care about facts. They just want a story."
"And you think walking away will stop that?" Aira asked.
He went silent.
She continued softly,
"You told me you're scared of disappointing me."
He didn't deny it.
"Well," she said, "walking away without trusting me would do exactly that."
That made him look at her.
Really look.
"You're not scared?" he asked.
"I am," she admitted.
"But not of you."
That landed harder than any argument.
Reyhan ran a hand through his hair. "I don't want to hurt you."
Aira's voice didn't shake.
"I don't want to be protected from a choice I'm making."
Silence stretched.
Then he nodded once.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Then let me do this right."
She tilted her head. "Do what?"
He stepped closer — not touching, not claiming.
"Let them talk," he said.
"I won't explain myself to people who don't matter."
His eyes met hers.
"But I will always explain myself to you."
Aira felt something settle in her chest.
Something steady.
---
Later that day, in class, someone passed a folded note onto Aira's desk.
She hesitated, then opened it.
You deserve better.
No name.
Just poison disguised as concern.
She closed the paper calmly, tore it once, and dropped it into her bag.
Reyhan noticed.
He leaned in slightly. "Everything okay?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
"Liar," he murmured.
She smiled faintly. "Okay. Maybe a little not."
He waited.
Didn't push.
She whispered, "They're trying to make me afraid."
His voice was quiet but firm.
"Is it working?"
She met his eyes.
"No," she said.
"Because fear doesn't come from knowing the truth. It comes from not trusting yourself."
Reyhan exhaled slowly.
Then, under the desk, he did something small.
He turned his hand palm-up.
Didn't grab.
Didn't touch.
Just… offered.
Aira looked at it for one heartbeat.
Then placed her fingers lightly against his.
Not intertwined.
Not obvious.
But deliberate.
Reyhan's breath hitched — just once.
And in that quiet, hidden moment, the noise around them faded.
Let them talk.
Let them judge.
Let them dig into the past.
Aira wasn't afraid anymore.
RULE #32: Don't let them turn his past into your fear.
Because when you choose with open eyes…
nothing they say can take that choice away.