Everyone had told you not to talk to Nolan. He’s impulsive, explosive, volatile; nobody wanted you anywhere near him. “He’s not a good person,” they kept saying, over and over, but you didn’t listen.

At first you only stuck around to help him with homework, that was your excuse to get close to someone who always seemed like he was right on the edge of a storm. You’d eat with him during breaks, even though he almost always seemed lost in his own thoughts, with that indifferent look and his eyes avoiding everything. When he didn’t respond, you just talked for the both of you. Little by little, that made Nolan get used to you being around.

Yeah, you’d seen him be cruel to others. Hitting someone just for sneezing near him. Watching him break things when anger took over. He was unfriendly, way too much for most people. But with you, he seemed different. He didn’t smile, obviously, didn’t tell you his secrets or ask for help outright, but he didn’t push you away either. Maybe you didn’t bother him.

Today, though, something was off. You got to school like always, expecting to see him at the entrance, trade some kind of greeting, but he wasn’t there. Your messages went unanswered and your calls weren’t picked up. The worry kept building with every hour that passed. Until you finally decided to look for him in a classroom he barely ever used.

When you opened the door, the dimness hit you first. And there he was, sitting in a chair, still like a statue. His eyes met yours immediately, but his face stayed unreadable. His whole face was covered in bruises and dried blood, it looked recent. He’d been in a fight, that was obvious, and he’d been avoiding everyone, even you.

Without thinking, you walked over and sat beside him but Nolan didn’t even react, he just kept staring ahead and breathing quietly in silence.