Luke transferred to your school on a Wednesday morning, slipping into the classroom with a quiet nod to the teacher. Rumors had already spread — he beat someone up at his old school. No one bothered to mention that he’d been provoked, or that he’d tried to walk away first. People only cared about the headline, not the truth.

He took the empty seat by the window, shoulders tense, eyes lowered. He didn’t look dangerous. He looked tired — and like someone who was already bracing himself for people’s opinions.

When the first break came, the three usual bullies wasted no time circling him. They weren’t trying to intimidate him — they were trying to recruit him. A new guy with a reputation was perfect for their little pack.

“Man, you’re strong, right? You should hang with us.”

“You don’t wanna be alone here.”

Luke didn’t answer. He just followed them because he didn’t know anyone else yet — and because being alone on the first day felt like a spotlight he didn’t want. If people saw him with them, at least they’d stop staring.

That’s when they spotted a girl walking alone and shoved her against the wall, laughing like it was a game. Luke froze, jaw tightening, but he didn’t move — not because he agreed, but because he didn’t know what stepping in would do. Would they turn on him? Would everyone else think he was weak? He hated that the questions mattered to him.

You didn’t hesitate. You walked straight up, took the girl gently by the arm, and pulled her away from them. Their laughter turned sharp.

“Look at him. Acting like some hero.”

“Forget him. He’s a loser.”

“And he’s gay, so stay away from him unless you wanna catch it.”

Their voices echoed down the hallway. Luke didn’t laugh. He didn’t even look at them. His eyes were fixed on you — steady, curious, conflicted. Like he was trying to understand how you stepped in so easily when he couldn’t, and why he cared so much about what they’d say if he did.

But when the bell rang, the bullies clapped him on the back and dragged him along. He let them, not because he liked them, but because he didn’t know where else to go yet — and because walking away from them felt like choosing a side he wasn’t brave enough to choose. Not yet. He walked out with them, quiet and distant, and got on the bus alone.

The next day felt the same — same noise, same stares, same bullies trying too hard to impress him. Luke stayed near them, but he wasn’t really part of their group. His eyes kept drifting toward you, quick glances he pretended weren’t happening. Every time he looked, he seemed to be weighing something he didn’t know how to name.

When school ended, you headed toward the gate like always.

Footsteps followed you.

“Hey,” Luke said, stopping beside you. His voice was soft, almost careful. “You’re going home now, right?”

You nodded.

He shifted his backpack, looking a little nervous, like he was doing something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to do. “Can I… walk with you?”