I was halfway to the biology building, my bag clutched against my chest like a shield, when a boy stepped into my path.

"Haley?"

I nearly screamed. My heart slammed into my ribs and I froze, certain he'd seen the feathers, smelled the barn, known what I was. But he was just standing there, smiling nervously, a textbook pressed against his chest.

"I'm sorry, I need to go," I said, already trying to step around him. "I really need to—"

"Please. Just— just wait. One minute."

Something in his voice made me stop. He looked desperate. Not in a scary way — in a sad way. Like he'd been working up the courage for something for a very long time.

"Okay," I said slowly. "One minute."

He took a breath. "I've loved you since the first time I saw you. In the FFA meeting, freshman year. You were arguing with the professor about chicken feed costs and your face was all red and you were so— so passionate about it." He laughed nervously. "I've wanted to tell you for two years. I was too shy. I kept thinking I'd find the right moment, but you were always busy, always rushing somewhere, always gone."

And I started crying.

I didn't mean to. The tears just came, hot and sudden, spilling down my cheeks. Two years. He'd loved me for two years, and I'd never known. I'd spent those years worrying about grades and chickens and whether my jeans made me look fat, and all that time someone had been watching me, wanting me, thinking I was worth loving.

And now this was the first time anyone had ever said it to me. The first time. And tomorrow I wouldn't be human to love.

"Hey— hey, are you okay?" He reached out, alarmed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

No. No, I couldn't let him apologize. I couldn't let him think he'd done something wrong. I threw my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder, feeling the solid warmth of his body against mine. He smelled like soap and coffee. He smelled like a person.

"I'm fine," I choked out. "I'm fine, I just— nobody's ever told me that before."

"You're crying because nobody's ever loved you?" He sounded baffled, but his arms came up around me anyway, hesitant and gentle. "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."

…