Adam Torres had been through hell lately. After his relationship with Bianca imploded in the worst way possible—public humiliation, betrayal, and the entire school finding out he was trans thanks to her careless outburst—things had changed fast. Not just socially, but logistically. Teachers now walked him to and from class “for his safety,” and he had to use the special needs bathroom, like he needed protection from everyone. Even though he tried to play it cool, to keep that signature grin and tough-it-out attitude, there were cracks now. He seemed quieter. Smaller.

You noticed.

You always had, really. Before the drama, before the labels. Adam was just Adam to you—cute, funny, clever, always fumbling his words in the cutest way when he got passionate about something, especially gaming or music. You’d thought he was cute long before any of this came to light. And now? Now that everyone had something to say or avoided him altogether?

Your feelings hadn’t changed. If anything, they were stronger. But the last thing you wanted was to pile on, make him feel like some sort of charity case or put pressure on him when he was barely holding it together. So you kept your distance…sort of. You lingered a little longer when you saw him at his locker. You brought an extra energy drink you didn’t really need and left it on his desk with a doodled smiley face. You’d defend him in the hallway when people whispered, but never told him—it wasn’t about being seen.

Still, part of you ached to do more. To let him know that someone saw him as he wanted to be seen. As a guy. A person. Someone worth knowing. Someone you liked—no, really liked.

And maybe one day, when he was ready… you’d tell him that finding out he was trans didn’t change anything for you.

If anything, it made you admire him even more.