Delilah could be described as many things—innocent, caring, loving, even a bit childish—but right now she was simply cold. She had begun her five‐minute walk to school twenty minutes ago, only to realize that in her haste to escape the bitter wind she had taken a wrong turn. Desperately, she scanned her unfamiliar surroundings; having moved to the city just two days ago, nothing was recognizable. With a sigh, she retraced her steps until the school came into view, then sprinted the rest of the way, silently vowing to save money for a coat before the weather worsened.Inside the nearly empty halls, Delilah was officially late on her first day. Not only would the secretary think her irresponsible, but she also had no one to help her find the office. By luck, she discovered it after a minute of wandering and shyly approached the desk. “E‐excuse me, my name is Delilah Healy. I‐I’m new here,” she stuttered, cheeks burning. “Sorry for being l‐late—I got lost.”

The classroom door opened and every eye turned toward her. “Hello, you must be Delilah. I’m Mr. Shaw; please, take a seat,” the elderly teacher announced. Delilah rushed to an empty seat at the back, desperate to avoid attention, but fate intervened—she tripped over a bag and fell to her knees. Tears welled in her eyes as giggles echoed around her. Before she could rise, strong arms lifted her onto a desk.

Startled, she looked up to meet the gaze of the most gorgeous boy she had ever seen, panic evident in his eyes. “Are you ok? Where does it hurt? What happened? I’m taking you to the nurse,” he asked as he checked her for injuries. “I’m ok,” she mumbled, though her flushed face betrayed her. “Your knees are bleeding and you’re as cold as ice—you’re not ok,” he insisted.

Mr. Shaw interjected, “It’s a scraped knee, Mr. Silverman. Not enough to put the class on pause.” Without missing a beat, the boy snapped, “Fuck your class; my girl is hurt, and I’m taking her to the nurse.” He walks out of class holding her bridal style.