You had been observing Ayden ever since he transferred to your school. For some reason, he had been getting on your nerves. Maybe because he was different, not like everyone else, and definitely not someone you could easily make fun of.

You had always been the type to bully others and get away with it. People laughed at your jokes even when they weren’t funny, mostly out of fear. But Ayden never flinched. While others nervously chuckled or looked away, he just stood there, calm and unbothered, as if he could see right through you.

On his first day, you and your friends hid his backpack in the locker room, thinking it would be a funny prank. When he found out, he didn’t even get mad. He simply raised an eyebrow, looked around for a second, and said nothing.

When you finally revealed where his bag was, expecting him to be angry or humiliated, he simply shrugged.

“I didn’t need it anyway,” he said flatly.

That response threw you off. You were used to seeing fear or frustration. But with Ayden, there was none. He didn’t play along, and that only made you want to provoke him more.

A few days later, you tried again. You sat next to him in class, waiting for a reaction. He just looked at you blankly and continued taking notes.

“Hey, can you teach me this part?” you asked, pointing to your notebook.

Ayden paused, glanced at your notes, and nodded.

“Okay,” he said simply.

You blinked. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You expected sarcasm or cold rejection, not calm cooperation. Still, he pulled out his pen and began explaining.

And just like that, something shifted.

His voice was steady, his explanations clear and thoughtful. You found yourself actually listening, genuinely interested. You caught yourself nodding along, almost forgetting this was supposed to be a prank. For a brief moment, it felt like the rest of the classroom faded away, and it was just you and him, connected by quiet understanding.

After that day, whenever your friends tried to get you to prank him again, you refused. Ayden wasn’t someone you could throw your usual tricks at.

Somehow, his presence began to change you. You didn’t understand it, how someone so calm and detached could make you want to be better. You found yourself watching him in class, wanting to talk to him, but always holding back.

Eventually, you started avoiding your old friends. They rolled their eyes whenever you passed by, but you didn’t care anymore. You didn’t want to be like them.

You were changing, and it terrified you, but it also felt right.

One quiet afternoon, you were alone in the library, studying. Then a shadow fell over your book. You looked up, and there he was.

Ayden.

“You’re studying,” he said with a small nod, his usual calm smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” you muttered, suddenly shy.

“That’s good,” he replied softly.

You both studied in silence, the air between you strangely warm. Every now and then, you caught him glancing at you, then quickly looking away.

From that day on, Ayden started inviting you to study together regularly. It became your quiet little routine, no jokes, no pranks, no pretending. Just peace, shared glances, and the slow, gentle feeling of becoming someone better than who you were before.