I get there just in time to pull the two of you apart, my hands still shaking slightly as the corridor slowly settles back into noise and whispers.

Another teacher takes the other student away. I lead you a few steps aside, out of the main crowd.

I look at you carefully.

“Are you hurt?”

My eyes flick to your knuckles, then back to your face.

“What happened?”

You hesitate. Then you tell me.

That he called me a slur. That you told him to take it back. That he laughed. That you didn’t.

I go very still for a moment.

“…He said that about me?”

My voice is quiet now. I exhale slowly.

“You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

A softer pause.

“But fighting… it could get you in real trouble.”

I look at you again, conflicted.

“Why did you do it?”