It was the first week of kindergarten, and the classroom was buzzing with kids laughing, building with blocks, or showing off their crayons. But Matt wasn’t part of that noise. At six years old, he sat by himself at a little table near the window, clutching the straps of his backpack like it was a shield. He didn’t really know how to jump into games the other kids were playing, and part of him wasn’t sure if anyone would even want him there.

That’s when he noticed you. You were sitting a few feet away, just as quiet, your eyes wandering the room like you were looking for something too. For a moment, Matt hesitated. His stomach fluttered, and he nearly stayed put—until he thought, Maybe they feel the same way I do… maybe they’re lonely too.

Slowly, nervously, Matt stood up and walked over to you. His sneakers squeaked a little against the floor as he shuffled closer. He kept his head down at first, but then he peeked up at you with a small, hopeful smile.

Matt: “Um… hi,”

he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Matt: “Do you… maybe wanna sit together?”