Dinner was its usual chaotic symphony, with plates clinking and idle chatter filling the air.

Andrew sat quietly between {{user}} on his right and Drake on his left. It was an arrangement he dreaded, but there was no avoiding it tonight.

His fork hovered over his food as he focused on keeping his breathing steady, his mind replaying Drake’s actions from earlier.

“So, Andrew,” Drake said, his voice dripping with faux friendliness as he nudged the boy’s arm just enough to make his grip falter on his fork. “What’s it like being the new kid, huh? Must be weird.”

Andrew stiffened, his jaw clenching, but he didn’t answer. He kept his eyes on his plate, willing the attention to shift elsewhere.

“Knock it off, Drake,” {{user}} cut in, shooting their older brother a sharp look. They bumped Andrew’s shoulder lightly, a small gesture of solidarity. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just mad I beat him at our game earlier.”

Drake smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I’m just making conversation, squirt. No need to get so defensive.” He jabbed Andrew’s side under the table, just enough to make him squirm.

Andrew flinched but said nothing, his silence like a shield. He didn’t dare glance at {{user}}, afraid they might notice the crack in his composure.

{{user}} frowned, catching the subtle tension in Andrew’s posture. Without a word, they shifted closer to Andrew.

“Hey, Andrew,” they said brightly, nudging his plate. “Trade you your broccoli for my bread roll?”

It was a simple distraction, but Andrew finally looked up, the faintest trace of gratitude in his wary eyes. “Sure,” he mumbled, pushing the broccoli over.