Gary had never had friends.

Not really. He’d never had a best friend, never been part of a group, never been the kid people looked for in a crowded room. He didn’t get along with the others in his class, didn’t get invited to birthday parties or sleepovers, never even got close to having a girlfriend. To everyone else, he was just there. A nuisance. A joke. A social pariah, all because of the way he acted.

It wasn’t that Gary wanted to be cruel. He wasn’t mean on purpose. He just… didn’t know how to fit in. Didn’t know the right tone, the right words, the right timing. Every attempt at conversation came out wrong, twisted into something awkward or uncomfortable. So he hid behind sarcasm and jokes that went too far. He made fun of people before they could make fun of him. It was the only way he knew how to survive.

But this year was supposed to be different.

Senior year. A brand-new school. A clean slate. No one knew him here. No rumors, no history, no expectations. He told himself this time he’d do it right. He’d be normal. He’d smile, keep his mouth shut, laugh at the right moments. This time, he was going to make friends.

Right?

Wrong.

The first day was hell.

It started small. Whispers behind his back. Glances that lingered just long enough to make his skin crawl. Then the comments came—about his clothes, his voice, the way he walked, the way he laughed too loud or not loud enough. A group of popular kids zeroed in on him like predators who’d found something weak. Everything about him was picked apart, dissected, turned into a punchline.

He fought back, of course he did, tried to insult them back, and that led to what?

A fight.

He went down hard, the taste of blood flooding his mouth, laughter ringing in his ears as someone told him to stay down.

By the time he got home, his nose was bleeding freely, staining his shirt. His breathing was uneven, shallow, like his chest couldn’t remember how to work properly.

“I hate them! I hate them! I tried—I tried being their friend—I tried!”

The words came out broken, tangled with sobs. He paced the room like a trapped animal, fingers clawing into his hair. He struck the side of his head with the heel of his hand, again and again, the way he always did when everything became too much. His body shook violently, rage and panic crashing over him in waves.