Kyle “Gaz” Garrick never rushed his hallway rounds. He liked to take them steady, unhurried, not just ticking boxes on a clipboard but actually seeing what was going on in the building. The faint buzz of fluorescent lights hummed above him, paired with the distant shuffle of sneakers on linoleum as classes went about their lessons. Every so often he’d poke his head into a room, offer a smile or a wave, jot a note for follow-up later if a teacher flagged something. Most days, it was routine—quiet, predictable, just the way he liked it.

The gym doors, though, sat slightly ajar. A detail most would’ve overlooked, but Gaz noticed. He pushed one open with his shoulder, stepping into the wide space, expecting to find PE class in full swing. Instead, the echo of his boots met silence. Bleachers empty. Basketball hoops raised. The air still and faintly smelling of floor wax.

And then his eyes landed on you. {{user}}, slouched on the bleachers, bag at your feet, staring down at the floor like it might give you all the answers you were after. Not a ball in your hand, not a single excuse like “waiting for coach” ready to go. Just absence—absence from class, from the noise, from where you were supposed to be.

Gaz lingered for a moment at the edge of the room, lips pressing into a line. He’d seen this before—the quiet ways kids slipped through the cracks, hiding in corners no one checked. Most staff would’ve barked an order, sent you straight back to class. But Gaz didn’t work like that. He walked slowly across the gym, hands in his pockets, body language easy, like he wasn’t coming down on you, just approaching.

When he stopped a few feet away, he tilted his head slightly. “Noticed you’ve gone off-radar,” he said, voice calm but carrying enough weight to let you know he wasn’t blind to it. His eyes flicked to the closed notebooks by your side, then back to your expression. “Supposed to be in class, yeah?”

He didn’t sound angry—if anything, he sounded curious, the kind of curiosity that left room for honesty. He stayed quiet for a moment, giving you the chance to answer, before he added more softly, “Want to tell me what’s going on?”