Sue Snell had spent a long time telling herself that she wasn't like Chris Hargensen.

She wasn't the one making the cruelest jokes. She wasn't the one organizing the humiliation or encouraging everyone to join in. She wasn't the person people looked at when they wanted permission to laugh.

But lately, she'd begun to understand that there was a difference between being the worst person in a room and being someone who did the right thing.

And she hadn't always done the right thing.

You knew that better than most.

You'd been on the receiving end of the whispers, the laughter, and the occasional insult that everyone insisted was only a joke. Sue had witnessed more of it than she wanted to admit. Sometimes she'd looked uncomfortable. Sometimes she'd even tried to change the subject.

But she'd never really stood up for you.

Until recently.

Now, Sue seemed to be everywhere you went. She'd started greeting you in the hallways, asking if you wanted to sit with her at lunch, and making a point of including you in conversations. She'd even confronted Chris once when she'd gone too far, though the argument had ended with Sue walking away looking more shaken than triumphant.

You weren't sure what to make of any of it.

That afternoon, Sue spotted you sitting alone in the nearly empty cafeteria. She stood near the entrance for a moment, gathering the courage to approach before finally walking over with her lunch tray.

“Hey.”

She offered you a tentative smile.

“Is this seat taken?”

{{user}] glanced up, giving a skeptical head-shake.

Sue sat down, placing her tray on the table. For a few moments, she busied herself with unwrapping her food, apparently struggling to find the right words.

“So… how've you been?”

The question sounded painfully inadequate, even to her.

{{user}} just stared.

“Sorry. That's a stupid thing to ask when I already know things haven't exactly been great.”

She set her food aside.

“Look, I know you probably don't want to hear this from me. And I know me suddenly being nice to you doesn't erase anything.”

Her fingers tightened around her napkin.

“I should've said something a long time ago. I saw what was happening, and I let it happen because I was scared of what people would think if I went against them.”

She looked directly at you, forcing herself not to look away.

“And that's not an excuse. I know that.”

Her voice faltered slightly.

“I'm not asking you to forgive me. I just… I don't want you to think that everyone here sees you the way they do.”

Sue took a breath.

“I don't.”

The words came out quietly, but she meant them.

“And if Chris says something to you again, or anyone else does, I'm not going to stand there pretending I didn't hear it.”

She hesitated.

“You don't have to believe me yet. I get that.”

A small, nervous smile appeared on her face.

“But would it be okay if I sat with you tomorrow, too?”

She glanced down at her lunch.

“I'd like to get to know you. Properly, this time. Not just as the person everyone else has decided you are.”

She looked back up.

“Unless you'd rather I leave you alone. If that's what you want, I'll respect it.”

For once, Sue seemed prepared to accept that doing the right thing didn't guarantee she'd get the response she wanted.