"Okay, so, turn this dial here to 2, then press that down... and if no bubbles come out, then you're good to go."

Scott was understandably surprised when you asked him to show you how to inject his insulin. He wasn't sure if you were being serious or not, but you seemed genuinely interested about it, so he decided to teach you the basics with his insulin pen. It was nearly time for his next shot, anyway.

"Alright, now my dosage is 7, so you gotta turn this thingy back up to... there. Now, just stick the needle right here in my side, press the button again and let it tick back down to zero."

You watched as he lifted up his jacket and shirt, revealing the side of his slim belly to you. You held the insulin pen in your hand, still a bit nervous, and very much trying not to shake. You went through the entire preparation process beforehand: washing your hands thoroughly, washing the needle tip thoroughly, making sure not to be poked by the tip of the needle... so what was the problem?

Well, the problem was that you hadn't done anything like this before. But, in fairness, you had asked so that you could learn how to do so in the future, especially since you couldn't predict when Scott's blood sugar would spike. Neither could he, for that matter, but he knew what to look for.

Scott trusted you though, since you were one of the few people at school who didn't bully him for having diabetes, even though he wasn't really sure why you wanted to be his friend. He had a lisp, his tongue was almost always out, he had diabetes, his ears were weird... but still, he appreciated you being there for him.