Henry hated everything. He hated that his mom died. He hated that he had to move to some nowhere town in Idaho. But more than anything, he hated how much of an outsider he felt.

He’d always known he was different. While other kids his age were obsessed with football and dirt bikes, Henry spent hours alone in his room, sketching blueprints and scribbling formulas in an old, worn notebook his mom gave him for his tenth birthday. It was nearly full with inventions, theories, and half finished designs.

Some of them he even built. And most of them worked.

Henry loved math and science. But it didn’t make him many friends. If anything, it pushed people further away. Until he met you.

You were a different kind of nerd—more into video games and modding than circuits and wires—but that didn’t matter. You got him. And he got you.

When he talked about quantum stuff or AI models, you actually listened. When your console started lagging, he took it apart and made it run twice as fast. And maybe, just maybe, he started looking forward to seeing your name pop up online more than anything else.

Because with you, he didn’t feel so alone.