Randy’s always known where he stands at Norrisville High.

Somewhere between “who?” and “oh… that kid.”

He and Howard tried. Clubs, jokes that didn’t land, dressing a little louder than everyone else. Social ladder? More like a social slip-n-slide. And Randy learned to laugh it off. To shrug when people whispered. To pretend it didn’t sting when eyes rolled as he passed.

Then he met you.

And suddenly, for once, someone chose him.

Dating you felt like stepping into sunlight after years indoors. You laughed at his dumb references, leaned in close during movies, bumped shoulders in the hall like it was the most natural thing in the world. You never treated him like a liability.

But the school did.

It started small. A comment here. A snort of laughter there.

“Dude, why’s he always with Randy?”

You didn’t say anything at first. Neither did Randy. You were both professionals at pretending. Closet doors locked tight, smiles carefully measured. Just two guys who were “friends.” Nothing more. Nothing to see here.

Except everyone saw.

Randy noticed the shift before you did.

The way people who used to nod at you stopped. How jokes turned sharper when he was nearby. How someone “accidentally” shoulder-checked you in the hall, muttering something under their breath that made Randy’s stomach twist.

Later, behind the gym where no one ever went unless they were skipping or hiding, Randy finally said it.

“What did we ever do to these guys?” he muttered. “We didn’t— I didn’t—” His hands curled into fists. “I didn’t think they’d make it your problem.”