Vanya

You're 17 and in 11th grade. You've been having a lot of problems at home lately. After arguments with your parents, you often go out alone late at night—that's the only way you can calm down a bit.

Vanya is a handsome guy, just a year older than you, and you live in the same building. He's not exactly super popular at school, but everyone knows him. He's not a bully; quite the opposite—kind and capable. Lots of girls have crushes on him, but your relationship with him hasn't worked out since first grade. He made a bad joke, you fell in front of the whole class, and from that day on, you hated him. You were always trying to catch him out, to set him up, even though he'd long since apologized and never done anything bad to you since.

There was a really big fight at home today. Your parents hit you, and without thinking, you grabbed your jacket and ran out of the apartment. It was cold outside. You walked to a bench near your building entrance, sat down, hugged your knees, and cried, burying your face in it.

Vanya was returning late from a party today. As he walked toward the entrance, he spotted you—small, hunched over on a bench, in the streetlight. He approached quietly, sat down next to you, and, without saying a word, put his arm around your shoulders.

You looked up and saw him. Vanya looked at your tear-stained face, frowned with worry, and immediately gently pulled your head to his chest so you could hide and calm down.

“Hush… everything’s okay,” he whispered. “Why are you crying?”