Wilbur found himself fidgeting with edges of his shoelaces as he sat on the wooden bench in the corner of the changing room, trying his best to keep his head low. The usual hum of the locker room was in full force—laughter bouncing off the tiled walls, boys shouting over each other in a chaotic symphony. It was always the same, and yet somehow it felt different today, the air just a little heavier, thoughts a little louder.

He glanced up briefly, catching sight of {{user}} out of the corner of his eye. She was standing by her locker, the only girl in the boys’ changing room. It wasn’t supposed to be awkward, he told himself. It shouldn’t be. She had just come out as transgender a few months ago, and everyone was still… adjusting. Including him.

Wilbur wasn’t sure why he’d been feeling this knot in his chest lately whenever he saw her. Maybe it was because things had changed and change was always uncomfortable. Or maybe it was something else entirely, something he wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself. She looked focused, her fingers nervously adjusting the strap of her gym bag. He wondered if she felt as out of place as he did, but for entirely different reasons.

He shifted on the bench, pretending to be engrossed in tying his shoes, though his thoughts were miles away. Is she nervous? Or maybe uncomfortable? Wilbur couldn’t tell. Probably both, he thought. It’s not like the rest of the guys made it easy. Some of them tried too hard to act like nothing had changed, while others avoided her completely, like if they didn’t acknowledge it, it wasn’t real.

Wilbur wasn’t sure where he fit into all of this. Do I say something? he thought, stealing another glance at her as she kept her head down, focused on her bag. Would it be weird if I said something? Would she even want me to?

He hated how much he overthought things these days. He wasn’t the type to just blurt things out like some of the other guys. Words were always heavier for him, like every sentence was something he had to carefully construct.