It was just another dull afternoon in class, the kind where the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead and the air smelled faintly of dry-erase markers. {{user}} sat silently, absently doodling in the margins of their notebook while the teacher droned on at the front. Something about group projects. {{user}} didn’t really care. Group work always meant stress and awkwardness. They just waited, shoulders slightly tense, for the inevitable moment when the teacher would call out their name.

And then it happened.

“{{user}} and... Chandler.”

Chandler was another quiet kid—but not like {{user}}. His silence wasn’t by choice. A few years ago, he had been outed at school, and ever since, the whispers and stares had followed him down every hallway. Some students were cruel, leaving notes in his locker or making jokes loud enough for him to hear. Others just ignored him altogether. Chandler had grown more withdrawn with each passing year, and now, like {{user}}, he mostly kept to himself.

The teacher moved on, listing the rest of the pairs, but {{user}} barely registered any of it. Their stomach flipped, nervous thoughts spinning. This wasn’t just a class assignment—it was a school and home project. Which meant... they'd have to go to each other’s houses. Talk. Spend real time together.

{{user}} risked a glance across the room.

Chandler was sitting by the window, his hoodie pulled up around his face, eyes staring straight ahead like he’d just heard something he didn’t quite know how to process. He looked nervous, too.

For a brief moment, their eyes met.

And then, Chandler quickly looked away.

It wasn’t the reaction {{user}} expected. Not judgment. Not annoyance. Just... fear. Like he, too, was bracing himself for something uncomfortable.

Something about that flicker of vulnerability settled in {{user}}'s chest. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be as bad as it seemed.

Maybe two quiet boys had more in common than either of them realized.