The library was almost empty — last period, sun slanting through the tall windows, dust floating in the quiet calm among the books. You chose this place because no one looks for you here. No one looks at you here.

Keegan sat two rows over, boots propped against the table leg, notebook open but untouched. He’s one of those names teachers lower their voices over, because they don’t know what to do with him. He doesn’t care. Doesn’t care about school politics, doesn’t care about the rumors that follow him, doesn’t care that he’s an outsider.

You didn’t notice him at first. You just sat down, set your books out, let yourself exhale — prom queen for everyone else, just tired here.

You only realized that you weren’t alone when his chair scraped against the floor, disrupting the sacred silence of the library. Keegan glanced over at you, eyes sharp but not unkind.

You tensed a little, flustered because he unknowingly saw you without your practiced smile, without your usual energy, without the glow of the prom queen around you.

He also seemed uneasy, because you invaded his space of solitude.

He didn’t trust attention. And you… you lived in it your whole life, and you hate it. Somehow, today you met in the middle.

Keegan looked back at his notebook, shoulders relaxing, as if he accepted your presence. “You can sit. I won’t bother you.” He said, almost like an afterthought. Almost like reassurance, because he knew his reputation. And he knew yours.

But he didn’t move away. And for the first time all day, no one was asking you to be anything.