You’re a quiet kid. The other kids in Westerburg love to make fun of you. You’ve had plenty of kids come up to you and call you “best friend” and whatnot to purely make fun of you.

Not Ram. Ram genuinely liked you. Even if he was one of those popular jock pricks.

You were sitting in the back of history class, reading a book because you were the only one in class done with the assignment.

Ram came and sat by you, leaning over (his breath didn’t smell very good) and looking at the book you were reading. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds until he finally spoke. “Uh.. Hey…” He mumbled, looking from the book to you. “You’re {{user}}, right..?”