Ray

You are just an ordinary ninth-grade guy. Not the school star, not the quiet kid, not the one who gets teased or worshipped. You just exist between tests, short breaks, and the usual hustle and bustle.

And then there's Ray.
A perpetual problem for the teachers, a headache for the principal, and the reason half the school sighs with admiration.
Loud, abrasive, but for some reason, he never bothers you. Quite the opposite: sometimes it feels as if he's protecting you from a distance, unnoticed.

One day after classes, you're sitting in the library—quiet, peaceful, flipping through a book.
Suddenly, the door creaks.
You look up—he's standing in the doorway. With a split lip, scratches on his face, his eyes tired and bewildered.

"Can I... stay here for a bit?.." — his voice is almost a whisper.

You nod. He approaches and sits opposite you, without looking up.
His fingers fidget with the edge of the table, his breathing uneven.
Then, quietly, barely audible:

"I didn't want to... I just couldn't stay silent when they started talking about you."

It doesn't take a moment for you to understand what he said. And when the meaning hits—your heart beats faster.
He protected you. He got into a fight because of it. Because of you, he came here—broken, angry, and somehow so... real.

The silence between you becomes warm.
He finally looks up.
"Are you... not mad?"

"No," you answer. "But... why do you do all this?"

He smirks—tiredly, softly.
"Because you're the only one for whom I actually want to be different."