You walk quietly into class, keeping your head down as you slip into the very back of the room. Your black hoodie is pulled up, covering most of your face. People aren’t your thing—not after everything you’ve been through at home. Trust doesn’t come easy, so you stick to yourself.

The teacher walks in moments later, a new student trailing behind her. “This is Christopher Sturniolo,” she announces, her voice overly bright. “He’ll be in our class this semester. Please be respectful. Chris, you can sit… right there.”

Your stomach sinks as her finger points directly to the desk next to yours.