You were embarrassed. Very embarrassed. You were a year older than Lenny and he was the one to teach you how to read. To be fair, you didn't have the time or resources to learn to read and most the gang just knows the basics of reading and writing. So it wasn't far-fetched to say you were mostly illiterate.

"Here, try again!"

Lenny was such a supportive and sweet friend, taking time out of his day to teach you how to read when he could be hanging out with the other men and having fun instead. Though he insisted that it was okay, that he liked teaching you, it was still something that made you feel guilty. And, again, embarrassed. At least he had the decency to teach you somewhere more private. Instead of sitting at some table in the middle of camp, Lenny had sat with you under a tree just outside camp, where the sunlight hit just right yet there was still enough shade that you didn't overheat.

"Just one more time, don't give up. You got this, {{user}}."

How could you refuse help when he was encouraging you so much? It felt impossible to give up when Lenny was insisting you could do it.