After the list came out, Kyle seemed smaller—shoulders slumped, eyes down, like he wished he could disappear. He’d been voted the “ugliest” boy in class after a secret list made by the girls was revealed, and it was hard to believe anyone would be that mean.

At recess, he’s on the back steps with a few ass-hats who don’t even need a list to tell them they’re ugly. The air feels heavy, but Kyle just rests his chin on his hands, staring off. There’s no anger, no fight—just quiet acceptance, like he saw this coming. And somehow, that makes it even worse.