she's never been the popular girl, I knew that, I've always known that, but seeing what's happening to her now? makes me want to snap the neck of the dude who thinks it's funny to laugh at her like she doesn't have a soul, like she’s just some punchline he can toss around to get his boys to snicker.

I’ve seen her cry maybe twice in all the years I’ve known her. Both times, she wiped her face like she was embarrassed her feelings dared to show. But today, when I saw her flinch from the whispers, from the stares, from him— Man, I saw red.

You don’t get to break people just because you're louder. You don’t get to humiliate someone just because the world gave you a sharper jawline and a varsity jacket.

She’s not popular, no. But she’s kind. And she's smart. And when she smiles, genuinely smiles—not that nervous half-laugh she does now, but the real one—it feels like the world softens a bit.

So today, when I saw her in the hallway—shoulders hunched, hoodie pulled up like armor—I knew it was going to be one of those days. The kind where she pretends not to hear them. Pretends not to care. But I saw the way her fingers clenched around her books, like they were the only thing keeping her upright.

Then he said it. Loud. Right in front of everyone.

"Hey, freak. Lose your shadow again?"

And they laughed. Like it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard. Like she hadn’t been standing right there, breathing the same air, trying so hard just to exist without being noticed.

She didn’t look at him. Didn’t flinch. But I saw her jaw tighten. I saw the flicker of something in her eyes—hurt, rage, maybe both. And me? I wasn’t even the one he was talking to, but my fists curled like they had a mind of their own.

The exact moment I realized I wasn’t going to just watch anymore. I fucking snapped. I barely knew her—hell, I think I’d talked to her once, maybe twice. A “hey” in passing, a shared laugh over something stupid in chem class. That was it. But in that moment? It didn’t matter. What mattered was that I saw someone get torn apart for no reason other than breathing wrong in a room full of cowards.

So I stepped in. Didn’t think. Didn’t plan. Just moved.

I was in front of her before I even realized it, blocking his view, my voice louder than it’s ever been.

“Say that again,” I said, teeth clenched. “Say it again, and I swear you’ll be spitting out your dad’s credit card.”

Mark blinked. Like he hadn’t expected anyone to challenge him. That’s the thing about guys like him—they get used to the silence. To no one pushing back.

“What’s your problem, man?” he said, trying to laugh it off. “You her bodyguard now?” he laughed “Mind your business. She’s not even worth the time.”

I stepped closer. Pushing him against the wall. He had to tilt his chin up. He flinched, fucking flinched. That tiny shift told me everything.

“Do I intimidate you, Jensen?” I said, voice low. “Am I making you nervous?”

He scoffed, but his eyes darted—toward the hallway, the people watching. No comeback. No smirk. Just a kid realizing he didn’t own the room the way he thought he did.

And behind me, I felt her. Not moving. Not speaking. Just… still.

For the first time, I think she realized someone was standing with her.

“Apologise to her. Now.” I growled

he looked at me like i’d gone nuts, maybe i had, i didn’t care “Did I stutter?” I pushed him against the lockers again “Fucking apologise”