Chapter 23: "Still, She Shined"

Lily stood in front of her closet, arms folded, brows furrowed like she was facing a final exam. Her floor was a mess of rejected outfits—jeans, oversized tees, and a sundress she'd bought on a whim last spring but never dared to wear. Tonight was the Fall Festival. Bonfires. Lights. Music. People. Her stomach fluttered at the thought.

Jess peeked in from the bathroom, hair wrapped in a towel. "You going in that?" she teased, gesturing at Lily's worn-out Garfield shirt and fuzzy socks.

"I might," Lily said, smirking. "It screams Fall Festival, don't you think?"

"It screams, 'I gave up and now I'm one with my blanket.'"

Lily rolled her eyes but chuckled. Jess had a way of disarming her, turning even her anxiety into something lighter. After everything—the slow unraveling with Joe, the phone call with Mom, Ava's adorable comic—something inside her had shifted. She wasn't better. Not yet. But she was moving.

She glanced at the sundress again. It was burnt orange, soft cotton, with thin straps and a fitted waist. Her inner critic immediately protested. But Lily silenced it. Tonight, she didn't want to disappear into hoodies and sleeves. She didn't want to hide.

She slipped it on.

She looked in the mirror and paused. She didn't look like the girls in the flyers or the ones who strutted around campus in crop tops and gym sets. But she looked… soft. Warm. Honest. Like herself.

Jess reappeared, now dressed in a navy blue romper and glossy lip balm. "Okay, now we're talking," she said, nodding approvingly at Lily. "You look like a cozy pumpkin spice ad."

"I'll take that," Lily said, smiling.

They walked together to the quad, which had transformed into a scene from a fairy tale. String lights crisscrossed between trees, booths with caramel apples and popcorn lined the sidewalks, and students gathered around fire pits with blankets and cocoa. Music floated in the background—soft indie guitar with a beat that made your head nod without realizing.

Lily clutched her phone tightly. No unread messages. No notifications. And for once, that didn't feel like rejection. It felt like freedom.

They walked toward the pumpkin painting station, and Jess darted off to say hi to someone she knew. Lily lingered, taking in the scene. For the first time since coming to Westview, she didn't feel like she was just observing life from the sidelines.

She was in it.

"Hey, you're the sketch girl, right?"

Lily turned to see a boy with messy curls and a camera slung around his neck. He had a friendly smile, one dimple showing.

"Uh… maybe?" she said cautiously.

"The cliff drawing. From Open Canvas. That was yours, wasn't it?"

Lily blinked. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

"I took photos that night for the school blog. That sketch stuck with me." He paused, then added, "It felt… still. Like, in a powerful way."

Lily's cheeks warmed. "Thanks. I didn't win or anything."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Art isn't about winning."

She smiled shyly. "I'm Lily."

"Eli," he said, holding out a hand. "Nice to finally meet the girl who makes stillness feel loud."

Lily laughed, surprised by the warmth in her chest. They chatted for a while—about photography, art, favorite sketching pens and weird professors. He asked about the girl on the cliff, and Lily hesitated. But then she told him. Not everything. Just enough.

"It was the first time I drew something without trying to be perfect," she said. "I just wanted it to be honest."

"It was," Eli said. "It is."

They eventually walked to the bonfire together, and Jess found them there, holding paper cups of cider.

"Oh," she said, wiggling her brows subtly. "New friend?"

"Eli, this is Jess. Jess, Eli," Lily said.

"Cool name," Jess said. "You going to make Lily famous with your photos or what?"

Eli chuckled. "Only if she lets me."

Lily rolled her eyes but couldn't stop smiling. The fire crackled, laughter rose around them, and the orange glow of the flames matched the warmth blooming in her chest.

At one point, someone pulled out a guitar and started playing a slow, acoustic version of "Riptide." A couple next to them started swaying to the rhythm, and Jess nudged Lily.

"I'm gonna grab a hotdog," she said, already moving. "Don't run off with the photographer!"

Lily chuckled but didn't move. She and Eli watched the flames dance for a while in silence.

Then Eli said, "I know it's none of my business, but… whoever made you doubt how incredible you are? They messed up."

Lily swallowed. "You don't even know me."

"I know enough," he said softly.

She didn't say anything back. But she didn't have to.

Later that night, back in her dorm, Lily peeled off her dress and slipped into her softest pajamas. She wiped off her makeup—just a little eyeliner and gloss—and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Still warm.

Still honest.

Her phone buzzed.

It wasn't Joe.

It was Ava.

Ava: Mommy said I can sleep in your bed when you come back for Thanksgiving. But only if you don't snore like last time.

Lily laughed aloud, her heart full.

Lily: Deal. But only if you bring your comic book.

Ava: Already packed. You're the main character now.

Lily bit her lip, trying not to cry.

She placed her phone down and reached for her sketchbook. Her fingers moved freely again—no pressure, no expectation. She began to draw a girl with an orange dress standing in front of a bonfire, flames dancing in her reflection.

Not waiting.

Not hiding.

Just being.

And for the first time in a long time, Lily believed it:

She was enough.

Exactly as she was.