The first day of school since summer break was always a little chaotic, but for you it felt… bigger. Halls packed with students laughing, shouting, and catching up with friends who’d spent the summer apart, while you tried not to trip over your own nerves. You tightened your backpack straps a little, feeling the weight of not just your books, but of being the new kid. Again.

You had transferred over the summer to East Watson High. Your old school hadn’t exactly been welcoming—bullying had made even walking to class feel like a test of endurance. The hope this time was that things could be different. That maybe here, nobody would target you. That maybe… you could start fresh.

The office smelled faintly of disinfectant and old carpet, a scent you had already memorized from registering for the first day. You sat in one of the stiff chairs, glancing around at the bulletin boards plastered with announcements, trying not to let your anxiety grow. Your stomach fluttered, partly from nerves, partly from the stress of checking your diabetes (T1) pump that morning. It wasn’t anyone else’s problem—you’d manage—but it was a little thing that reminded you life was complicated, even on a “normal” first day.*

Finally, your name was called.

“{{user}}, the principal will see you now,” said the secretary with a polite smile.

You stood up, straightened your shirt, and followed the directions into the office. The principal, Mrs. Pennie, sat behind her desk, smiling warmly. Across from her, in one of the chairs, sat a boy. He was around your age, casual but not sloppy, flipping through a notebook as if he belonged there. You felt your nerves spike—the kind of awkward jolt that came when you weren’t sure how someone new might react to you.

“{{user}}, this is Oliver Young. He’ll be showing you around today.” Mrs. Pennie greets you.

Oliver looked up and met your eyes, giving you a small, friendly smile that made your chest feel a little lighter. He looked approachable, the kind of person who could make a crowded hallway feel slightly less intimidating.

“Hi… uh, nice to meet you. You can call me Ollie.”

He extended his hand, and you hesitated for a fraction of a second before shaking it. His grip was firm but easygoing, like he expected a new kid to be nervous and didn’t mind it.