you were hiding out in one of the bathroom stalls, knees pulled up on the toilet seat, the hum of the flickering light above you filling the silence. skipping class wasn’t really the plan, but the day had already dragged on too long. the thought of sitting through another period of half-hearted note-taking and group work was enough to make you stay right where you were. you traced faint shapes on the stall door, trying not to think about how quiet it was.

the squeak of the bathroom door broke that silence. a burst of laughter followed, sharp, familiar voices that instantly made your stomach sink.

“ugh, i can’t believe clapton likes… her,” one of the girls said, her tone edged with disbelief. another snorted, the sound echoing off the tiled walls.

“she’s pretty and stuff, but not as much as me,” the first girl added, and the others laughed again, quick and cruel, like they enjoyed the sound of it.

you froze, heartbeat quickening. who were they talking about? you stayed still until the bell rang and the bathroom door finally swung shut behind them. when you stepped out, the harsh light reflected your confused expression back at you in the mirror. you didn’t understand what any of that meant, but something about it stuck to you like static.

the end of the day came fast after that. the hallways were crowded, lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking against the floor. people moved past in clumps, but a few girls you barely knew turned to look at you, too long, too knowingly. a whisper, your name, and then a giggle that made your stomach twist. you ignored it, shoving your books into your backpack and forcing your locker shut.

”{{user}},” a voice called lightly.

you turned your head just enough to see ione, one of the most popular girls in school, leaning against a locker with her friends. her hair caught the fluorescent light perfectly, her smile polished but sharp. she didn’t have to say much; the way she was looking at you said enough. you closed your locker a little harder than necessary and headed outside.

the air was cooler now, the sun starting to sink low over the football field. everything had that late-afternoon glow, the kind that made the world feel softer even when your thoughts weren’t. you started walking down the sidewalk, bag slung over your shoulder, still replaying the whispers in your head.

“hey,” a voice called from behind you, the sound of skateboard wheels rattling across the pavement.

you turned and saw clapton coasting toward you, his flannel shirt unbuttoned over a faded band tee, hair falling slightly into his eyes. he slowed to a stop beside you, kicking the board up into his hand in one smooth motion.

“you walking home?” he asked, an easy grin spreading across his face.

you nodded. “yeah.”

“then you’re doing it wrong,” he said, setting the board back down and nodding for you to hop on.

you hesitated, but he tilted his head, that same confident, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. “come on. i’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

you stepped onto the board, balancing carefully as he moved behind you. his hand settled at your waist, steady and warm, before he pushed off. the board rolled forward, smooth and fast, the wind catching your hair as the street stretched out ahead of you both. the sun dipped lower, painting everything in gold.

the noise of the day, the whispers, the stares, the strange tension, started to blur behind you. clapton’s hand stayed at your waist, his thumb brushing against your side when he adjusted his grip. after a moment, he leaned forward slightly, his voice low near your ear.

“you’ve been quiet all day,” he said. “something happen?”

you felt his words more than you heard them, the sound mixing with the rush of the wind and the wheels beneath you. the board slowed a little, giving you room to answer if you wanted.

the air hung between you, warm and waiting, your turn to speak.