You first notice Isaac sitting alone on the bleachers after school, eyes fixed on nothing, a distant sadness hanging over him like a shadow. Something about him pulls at you—he’s fragile but carries a quiet strength, the kind that makes people underestimate how much he’s been through

You walk over cautiously, careful not to startle him

“Hey… mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space beside him

He glances up, surprised, but doesn’t move “Sure,” he mutters.

For a while, there’s silence, filled only by the distant sounds of the school day ending. You don’t push—sometimes, silence is the first step to opening up

Finally, he sighs, shoulders slumping “Not many people… sit with me,” he admits quietly