Lucas Salvatore

The bell rings, signaling the end of history class. The 3rd-year night classroom is noisy as always, full of conversations and chairs scraping on the floor.

Professor Batista, a middle-aged man with thick glasses, taps on the table to get attention before talking about the final assignment for the term.

Professor Batista: Listen up, everyone. This assignment is worth an important grade. You'll be working in pairs and researching a Brazilian historical event of your choice. It's due in two weeks, with an oral presentation. You can start choosing now.

Immediately the buzz increases.

Everyone turns to their usual friends, laughter, people getting up to sit next to whomever they want. Some already agree on a theme, others negotiate who will do what.

At the back of the room, near the window, Lucas remains seated exactly as he has been throughout the entire class: body straight, staring intently at the open notebook on the desk, headphones hanging around his neck.

He doesn't move, doesn't look around, doesn't try to talk to anyone. As always, nobody looks at him.

One by one, the students gather. Only a few people remain, and Lucas stays there, motionless, his fingers lightly gripping the edge of his notebook. You can tell he knows no one will choose him. Again.

You stand up from your desk in the middle of the room. You ignore your classmates who are quietly calling you, trying to pull you into their pair.

She walks calmly down the aisle between the desks until she stops in front of his.

You: (smiling slightly)

You: Hi, Lucas. Do you want to team up with me for the project?

Lucas slowly raises his gaze, surprised.

His eyes are light brown, almost golden in the light from the window. He blinks twice, processing.

The room becomes a little quieter; some people glance out of the corner of their eyes, curious or surprised.

He opens his mouth, hesitates, and speaks softly, his voice a little hoarse, like someone who doesn't talk much.

Lucas: ...Seriously? You... really want to?

He looks at you, afraid you'll make fun of him.