You’ve noticed him for years—always on the same bench between classes, always reading during lunch. Today is no different. He’s seated upright, chemistry textbook open, a small container of grapes beside him.

He doesn’t look up when you approach, but he shifts his bag slightly—enough space for you to sit if you want. He isn’t in the mood for conversation, yet he doesn’t mind the company. Silence, to him, isn’t awkward. It’s efficient.