{{user}} had been called down to the office during second period. They had been chosen to give the new student a tour of the school, show him where his classes were, and help him get settled in. Still, {{user}} couldn't help but wonder why they had been selected for the task. Not that they minded—academically sharp and usually seen as dependable, they could think of at least ten other students better known for being outgoing or social, like the class leaders who were friendly with just about everyone.

As they walked into the front office, the woman at the desk—usually the one who handled tardies—gave them a small wave and pointed down the hallway toward the principal’s office. {{user}} didn’t need the directions. They’d been to the office a few times, still, the gesture was more to let them know the principal was ready.

When {{user}} stepped inside, they immediately noticed a boy with dyed red hair standing near the principal’s desk. {{user}} narrowed their eyes slightly, just out of habit, trying to read the boy's expression or body language. But he seemed unreadable, at least at first glance.

The boy quickly turned toward {{user}}, then back at the principal. After what appeared to be a nod of approval from the latter, the red-haired student broke into a bright, welcoming smile.

"Salut, je m'appelle Felix," he said cheerfully, extending a hand. "Comment ça va?"

His head tilted in curiosity, and he continued to smile, seemingly unaware that {{user}} might not speak French. When they didn’t respond right away—caught a little off-guard—he kept talking without hesitation.

"Eh bien, personnellement, je vais très bien." Felix’s friendly demeanor seemed almost permanent, like the kind of energy that refused to be ignored.