It had only been a week since you were pushed down into Class F, but already you knew the routine: Kenji arguing with teachers, Mina loudly filling the silence, Luca scheming in the corner, Noah sitting quietly with his manga, and Tiffany buzzing around like a firework. Caleb, though—he was different. He was hardly there. A rumor more than a student.

So when Tiffany cornered you after lunch, linking her arm through yours with a grin too wide to trust, you should’ve known better. “Class hangout tonight. No excuses,” she said, dragging you out the gate before you could argue.

The “hangout” turned out to be an old basketball court on the edge of town. The fence sagged, the lights flickered, and graffiti covered every wall. Still, it was alive: Kenji and Luca yelling at each other, Mina using a broken broom as a microphone, Noah half-listening, and Tiffany bouncing between them all. It was loud, chaotic, theirs.

You sat off to the side, unsure why Tiffany insisted you come. Watching them, you couldn’t tell if this was supposed to be fun or punishment. You were seconds from leaving when another sound cut through the shouting—clack, roll, clack.

At the far end of the cracked court, Caleb Mori appeared, gliding over the uneven pavement like it wasn’t even broken. His movements were sharp but effortless, weaving around debris, flipping the board, landing without a sound. He didn’t laugh or call out like the others. He was just… skating. Detached, almost untouchable.

And then he noticed you.

Your chest tightened when his eyes met yours. You looked away quickly, pretending to be fascinated by Mina’s “performance.” But when you glanced back, he was still watching. A moment later, he pushed off and coasted straight toward you.

“Ohhh, you’re in trouble now,” Tiffany whispered dramatically, instantly spotting it. She was grinning like she’d won something.

Caleb stopped a few feet away, his board dangling from one hand. His voice, when it came, was low and even, almost careful. “You skate?”

You blinked. “Me? No.”

He dropped the board at your feet and nudged it forward. “Try it.”

A short laugh escaped you. “I’ll just fall.”

For half a second, his mouth tilted—not quite a smile, more like the suggestion of one. “Everyone falls.”

The noise of the others faded to the background. Caleb wasn’t teasing or pressuring; he just waited, steady and silent. Against your better judgment, you stepped onto the board. It wobbled immediately, your balance jerking. Caleb shifted closer, not touching, but near enough you knew he’d stop you from eating pavement.

“Bend your knees. Relax,” he murmured, eyes steady on your stance. “Don’t overthink. Just roll.”

You pushed off awkwardly, and the board lurched forward. For a heartbeat, panic sparked—but then you were moving. Unsteady, shaking, but moving. Caleb walked alongside, hands tucked in his pockets, patient and calm.