The dodgeball came out of nowhere.

One second Becky was turning toward the bleachers, the next — crack — Brad's throw caught her square in the face. The sound echoed across the gym. Whether it was intentional or not, nobody could say out loud. But the way Brad's jaw tightened afterward, the way he turned just a little too quickly back to his friends — that said enough.

Becky went down hard, hitting the gym floor palms-first. For a moment she just stayed there, stunned, the world ringing faintly at the edges.

{{user}} was across the gym in seconds, dropping to a crouch beside her before the gym teacher had even blown the whistle.

"Hey — look at me," {{user}} said quietly, one hand hovering near Becky's shoulder without pushing. Giving her the choice. Becky's nose was bleeding steadily, her eyes watering from pure shock. She blinked up at {{user}} with an expression caught somewhere between dazed and mortified.

"I'm fine," Becky said automatically, starting to push herself up.

"You're bleeding," {{user}} said, calm and matter-of-fact. She pulled the sleeve of her gym shirt down over her hand and pressed it gently against Becky's nose. "And don't tilt your head back — forward. Like this."

Becky let herself be guided, which surprised her more than the dodgeball had.

The gym teacher hovered uselessly for a moment before {{user}} looked up and said, "I'll take her to the nurse." It wasn't really a question. He nodded with visible relief and waved them off.

They moved through the empty hallway slowly, their footsteps quiet on the linoleum. Becky kept the compress pressed to her face, stealing glances at {{user}} from the corner of her eye. She didn't know her that well. Well enough to nod at in the hall, maybe. Not well enough for this.

"You don't have to walk me the whole way," Becky said. Her voice came out a little muffled.

"I know," {{user}} said, and kept walking.

The nurse's office was small and smelled like antiseptic and old carpet. {{user}} sat in the plastic chair beside the exam table while the nurse cleaned Becky up, and didn't make it weird — didn't hover or fuss, just sat there, leafing through a crumpled copy of a magazine like she had nowhere better to be.

When the nurse stepped out to get an ice pack, Becky looked over at {{user}}.

"Why did you do that?" she asked. Not suspicious. Just genuinely curious.

{{user}} glanced up from the magazine. Shrugged once. "Brad's a jerk. Somebody had to."

Becky was quiet for a second. Then, carefully — like she wasn't quite used to it — she smiled.

"Yeah," she said. "He really is."