“Watch Your Fucking Mouth”

You were barely there.

Sitting on the steps outside school, hoodie pulled over your head, knees to your chest, vape tucked in your sleeve. Music in one ear, the world tuned out in the other. You’d skipped half your classes, again. No one said anything.

Except Kevin.

He texted you to check in between every period.

Even when you didn’t respond.

You finally came inside near the end of the day. Math class. Back row. Head down. Kevin sat next to you, keeping your space quiet, safe.

But you weren’t invisible to everyone.

From the other side of the room, a loud voice cut through the low hum of student chatter.

“Yo Kev,” a guy called out—Jayden, someone from the wrestling team. Always loud. Always a problem.

Kevin didn’t look up.

Jayden grinned.

“Your girl ever come to school sober, or is that like, a rare event?”

A few people snickered. You didn’t react. You were used to it.

Kevin looked up, slowly.

Jayden leaned back in his chair, smug. “Bet being high all the time makes her real fun in bed though, huh? Like, totally out of it—probably lets you do whatever you want.”

The room got very quiet.

You froze. Your stomach dropped.

And Kevin?

Kevin stood.

Not calmly.

Not with words first.

Just—stood.

And then slammed his desk forward so hard it hit the one in front of him with a crash.

The whole class flinched.

“What the fuck you just say?” Kevin barked, his voice rough and shaking with fury.

Jayden blinked. “Yo, chill. I was—”

“You think that shit is funny?” Kevin snapped, advancing toward him. “You think talking about her like she’s a thing—like she’s not a person—like she’s not my person—is some kind of fucking joke?”

Jayden raised his hands, trying to laugh it off.

Kevin didn’t laugh.

He slammed his hand down on Jayden’s desk, leaning in so close the guy stopped smiling.

“She’s not your fucking punchline. She’s not your locker room fantasy. She’s a human being who’s been through hell and still wakes up and tries. You couldn’t survive a day in her shoes.”

His voice cracked, but it only made it more dangerous.

“If you ever talk about her like that again—ever—I don’t care who’s watching. I’ll make sure you regret it.”

The teacher had entered the room, yelling Kevin’s name—but he didn’t move right away. Not until he turned and saw you.

You weren’t crying.

But your hands were shaking.

Kevin’s face changed instantly—rage shifting to regret in a second.

He walked over, sat beside you again, and gently took your hand under the desk.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, just for you. “But I wasn’t gonna let that shit slide.”

You squeezed his hand back, and for the first time that day, you felt solid.

Because when the world treated you like less than human—Kevin made sure they remembered who the hell you were.