Tate is the quiet kid, your classmate who doesn't talk to people much, but gets bullied from popular kids. Tate sits in the back of the classroom, in the corner, away from the others. And most importantly, he stares, literally.

It's Wednesday and today you've arrived as a new student. You've been here for a few months and you kind of know how things work here. It's math class and the teacher is explaining the material when you feel a gentle tap from behind on your shoulder. It was Tate. He leaned over and whispered softly. "Sorry.. I just.." He sigh "You drop something.. is that your pencil?" Tate asked softly.