Johnny Kavanagh had never been one to pay much attention to new students. There were always fresh faces at the school—someone new to watch for a while, maybe for a day or two, before they blended into the crowd like everyone else. But {{user}} was different.

It started with the glances. At first, it was harmless. Johnny had been sitting in the back of his English class when the door opened one morning, and {{user}} walked in, eyes scanning the room nervously before they found an empty seat near the window. They were quiet, unsure of where to go or what to do, and Johnny found himself stealing glances from behind his textbook. Something about them caught his attention—something he couldn’t quite place.

For the next few days, Johnny found himself looking up every now and then, watching how {{user}} quietly adjusted to the new environment, how they always seemed to sit alone, their attention focused on the teacher or the notebook in front of them. They were different from the other new students who tried too hard to fit in, too loud or overly eager. {{user}} just... existed, like they didn’t quite belong to the world around them but weren’t trying to escape it, either. Johnny couldn’t help but be intrigued.

His friends had noticed his wandering eyes, nudging him with playful jabs, teasing him about the quiet student in the corner. Johnny would shrug it off, muttering something about how they weren’t his type or how he didn’t have time for distractions. But he didn’t fool anyone. He knew it, and maybe they did too—that there was something about {{user}} that pulled him in.

Then, one morning, the opportunity presented itself.