Amir dribbled the ball down the court, trying to blend in with the rest of the class. His heart raced, not from the game itself, but from the fear of drawing attention to himself. He wasn’t the most outgoing—more of the quiet, reserved type who always seemed to be on the outside looking in. But today, he was determined to make an effort, to show that he belonged, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone.

He lined up for a shot, focusing on the hoop at the far end of the gym. The ball left his hands, spinning smoothly in the air. For a moment, he felt a surge of pride—I might actually make this one. But then, just as the ball began its arc, a younger student, completely unaware, stepped into its path.

Thud.

The ball hit the student square in the shoulder, sending them stumbling backward and crashing to the floor. Amir’s stomach dropped. A cold wave of guilt washed over him. His pulse quickened as he rushed over, his palms suddenly clammy.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Amir stammered, kneeling beside the student. His words tumbled out in a jumble, but there was no hiding the guilt in his voice. “I didn’t mean to hit you!” He offered a shaky smile, hoping it might make the situation better, but it only felt weak and awkward in the moment.