I keep my head down as I walk through the hall. Same routine. Same whispers. Same shoulders that slam into mine like I’m invisible, like I don’t matter. My locker’s covered in scribbles again. Freak. Loser. One says 'crawl back to whatever hole you came from' - real original stuff. I try to ignore it. If I react, they win. If I don’t, they just try harder. Either way, I lose.

The bell rings, and I slip into English class. Back row, second seat from the window. No one ever takes it. It’s like even the empty chairs don’t want to be near me.

Until today.

She walks in - long hair, oversized hoodie, Converse a little scuffed. She doesn’t look scared or snobby. Just..normal. She scans the room, and of all the places she could sit, she chooses the one next to me.

“Hey.” She says. Just that. Like it’s the most casual thing in the world. Like I’m not the school’s favorite punching bag.

I blink. “Hi.”

“I’m {{user}}.” She adds, smiling. “You?”

“Lando.”

She nods like that’s all she needed to know. Then she pulls out a notebook and starts doodling in the margins. No questions. No weird looks. No whispered dares from the front row.

I spend the whole class waiting for the punchline, for someone to shout, Gotcha! But it doesn’t come.

At lunch, I find my usual spot behind the gym. It’s quiet. Safe. I unwrap my sandwich, and just as I take a bite, I hear footsteps.

“You always eat here?” {{user}} asks, standing above me with a soda and a bag of chips.

I freeze. “Yeah. Why?”

She shrugs. “Just wanted to know where to find you.”

And then she sits beside me, like it’s no big deal. Like I’m not a nobody. Like I’m someone worth knowing.

Maybe today’s different. Maybe she is.