The Touch - Rewrite

Monday morning felt quieter than the rest of the week had. It wasn’t empty, just slower, like everything was taking its time instead of rushing. Greg drove with one hand resting loosely on the wheel, the other tapping lightly against it in rhythm with the music playing softly through the speakers. I sat in the passenger seat, watching the road ahead without really focusing on anything in particular.

“You doing alright?” Greg asked after a minute, glancing over briefly.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he said. “This should be quick. Jerret just wants to make sure everything’s healing the way it should.”

I nodded again, my hand resting lightly against my side without thinking about it.

The office felt familiar when we walked in. Not comfortable exactly, but not tense either. Just neutral. We didn’t have to wait long before the nurse called my name and led us back. The room was the same as before, quiet and clean, with that faint, sterile smell that clung to everything.

Doctor Jerret came in a few minutes later, his expression easy as he glanced between both of us.

“Zachary,” he said, stepping closer. “Looking better already.”

I nodded slightly, not really sure how to respond.

“Let’s take a look,” he added.

The exam didn’t take long. He checked my ribs carefully, his hands firm but controlled, pressing lightly in a few places. I tensed at first, expecting the same sharp pain as before, but it didn’t come. There was still soreness, but it felt dull now, manageable.

“Any tenderness here?” he asked.

“A little,” I admitted.

He nodded. “That’s normal. Healing takes time.”

He straightened up and looked over at Greg. “How’s he been otherwise?”

“Pretty good,” Greg said. “Energy’s coming back. Appetite’s definitely back.”

I glanced at him, and he smirked slightly.

“Nightmares?” Jerret asked.

Greg hesitated for just a second. “They’ve been tapering off,” he said. “Still happen sometimes, but not as intense.”

Jerret nodded, then studied Greg’s face for a moment. “Your eye’s looking better.”

I followed his gaze, looking more closely.

Greg let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “Yeah, well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I forgot to dodge.”

I stilled slightly.

The memory hit immediately. The nightmare. The panic. The way I had lashed out without knowing where I was.

Heat rushed to my face.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know—”

“It’s alright,” Greg cut in easily, not letting it turn into something bigger. “You were half asleep. I got in the way.”

Doctor Jerret chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It happens,” he said. “You’d be surprised how often.”

The tight feeling stayed in my chest, even if they both acted like it wasn’t a big deal.

Greg glanced at me, his voice quieter. “Hey, I’m fine. Really.”

I nodded, slower this time, my eyes dropping briefly before lifting again.

Jerret moved on without lingering, picking up the chart and flipping through it before closing it with a small nod. “I don’t see any reason why he can’t return to school,” he said.

My head lifted slightly.

“Just take it easy,” he continued, looking directly at me. “Don’t push yourself. If something hurts, stop. If you’re tired, rest. You’re still healing.”

I nodded.

“I’ll fax a note over to the principal,” he added. “Thompson and I play golf together. He’ll make sure you’ve got somewhere to go if you need a break.”

That eased something in my chest a little.

Greg nodded. “Appreciate that.”

“You’re doing well,” Jerret said to me. “Keep it that way.”

The appointment ended not long after that, just like Greg said it would. We were back in the car within minutes, the quiet settling in again as we pulled out of the parking lot.

“That went well,” Greg said.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“See?” he added. “Nothing to worry about.”

I leaned back slightly in my seat, watching the road as we headed home.

The rest of the day felt easier. Greg stayed home, moving between calls and emails while I sat in my room with the laptop open in front of me. The racing game was the first thing I opened, and after a few minutes, I started getting the hang of it. The controls felt less awkward, and I found myself leaning forward slightly, more focused than I had been in a while.

After a while, I started looking through other games. One of them caught my attention almost immediately. You could play as a dinosaur, running around and exploring. I clicked on it, watching the preview before noticing the price.

A few dollars.

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the trackpad. I sat there for a moment, then picked up the laptop and stood carefully, carrying it downstairs instead of calling out.

Greg was just finishing a phone call when I stepped into the living room. He glanced up as he ended it, setting his phone aside.

“What’s up, buddy?” he asked.

I shifted the laptop slightly in my hands. “There’s… a game,” I said. “It costs money.”

Greg raised an eyebrow, not in a bad way. “Okay.”

“I didn’t know if I was allowed to—” I started.

He smiled before I could finish. “Come here,” he said, motioning me over.

I stepped closer, and he pulled the laptop onto his lap while I stood beside him.

“Show me,” he said.

I pointed to the game, explaining it quickly. He listened, then clicked through a few things without hesitation.

“There you go,” he said.

I blinked. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he replied. “There’s already money on your account.”

I looked at him. “There is?”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “So if you see something you want, you don’t have to ask every time.”

I looked back at the screen, navigating to the account balance. The number made me pause.

“…that’s a lot,” I said quietly.

Greg glanced at it, then back at me. “It’s enough,” he said.

I didn’t respond right away.

“Hey,” he added, his tone softening. “It’s there for you. You don’t have to feel weird about using it.”

I nodded slowly.

He clicked again, pointing at another section. “You can add games to a wishlist too,” he said. “So if you find something later, it’s easy to go back to. Natalie and I can see it, so we can grab things for you sometimes.”

I watched closely as he showed me how it worked, committing each step to memory.

“There’s plenty on there,” he added. “Don’t worry about it. You deserve to have things you enjoy.”

Something in my chest tightened again, but not in the same way as before.

I stepped forward without thinking and wrapped my arms around him.

He paused for just a second, then returned it easily, one arm settling around my shoulders.

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly.

I nodded against him, then pulled back after a moment, my face a little warm.

“Go try your game,” he added with a small smile.

I nodded and picked the laptop back up, heading upstairs again. It didn’t feel like something borrowed anymore, or something I had to be careful not to lose.

It felt like something that belonged to me, and for once, that didn’t feel temporary.

Natalie and Greg both made it a point to take me to school on my first day, but they didn’t linger when it came time for me to go inside. I got a quick hug from each of them, nothing over the top, just enough to steady me before I stepped through the doors and into the office.

The cold followed me in at first, clinging to my hoodie and the edges of my sleeves, but it didn’t last long. The warmth inside wrapped around me quickly, almost too quickly, and I became aware of everything at once—the hum of fluorescent lights overhead, the soft rustle of papers shifting against each other, the distant echo of voices further down the hall. It all felt sharper than it should have, like my senses were trying to keep up with something my brain hadn’t caught up to yet.

I paused just inside the doorway.

Not long enough for anyone to notice, but long enough for the thoughts to start.

This is it.

They know.

My eyes moved across the office automatically, scanning faces, corners, anything that might tell me what to expect before it happened. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until I stepped forward again, forcing myself toward the counter.

Ms. Pratt’s desk was empty.

Not just empty—cleared.

The difference hit harder than I expected. There were no scattered papers, no coffee mug, no personal things left behind. It looked like no one had ever sat there at all, like the space had been reset and whatever had happened before had been erased.

Something in my chest tightened.

She’s gone.

The memory surfaced anyway. The raised voices. The accusations. The way everything had shifted so quickly, like the ground had been pulled out from under me. I swallowed hard, trying to push it down, but it didn’t go far.

They’re going to know why.

My fingers curled slightly against my sleeve as I stepped closer to the counter. The space between me and the desk felt longer than it should have, like every step was being measured without me meaning to.

Behind the desk stood a small, gray-haired woman I didn’t recognize. Papers were stacked in uneven piles around her, folders spread out across the surface in a way that made it clear she was juggling more than one thing at a time. She moved quickly between them, muttering something under her breath before finally noticing me.

“Can I help you, young one?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of stress even though she smiled.

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

My throat tightened, the words catching before they could form properly. I tried again, forcing them through.

“I’m Z… Z… Za… Zach Br… Br… Brody, ma’am.”

The stutter hit harder than usual, each break in my voice feeling louder than it actually was. I focused on the edge of the counter instead of her face, waiting for the reaction that usually followed.

But it didn’t come.

Her expression didn’t change. If anything, it softened just slightly.

“I’ve been expecting you, Mr. Brody,” she said pleasantly, like nothing about that had been unusual.

Something in my chest loosened, just enough for me to take a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

She stepped closer, pulling a packet and a thick folder from one of the stacks before handing them to me. The weight surprised me, heavier than I expected, and I adjusted my grip automatically, holding everything a little tighter than necessary.

“I know it seems like a lot,” she continued, “but this will help you get caught up in your classes. You don’t have to worry about it today. Just take a look when you get home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said quietly.

Caught up.

The words echoed in my head.

Behind.

Different.

I shifted my weight slightly, my fingers tightening around the edges of the papers as my eyes drifted again without meaning to.

Ms. Pratt’s desk was still empty.

Still wrong.

My stomach twisted.

If people ask… what am I supposed to say?

If they already know…

“Mrs. Coster is your homeroom teacher,” the woman said, drawing my attention back. “Room 109.”

I nodded quickly, even though I wasn’t sure I would remember it.

She extended her hand across the counter. “I’m Mrs. Young. I’m the new secretary.”

New.

The word settled in a way I couldn’t quite place.

I shifted the papers awkwardly to one arm and shook her hand carefully, my grip light and brief before pulling back. My eyes moved again without thinking, scanning the office one more time, landing on that empty desk like something in me kept checking to see if it would change.

It didn’t.

Mrs. Young tilted her head slightly as she looked back at me. “Do you know where Room 109 is, or do you need directions?”

I hesitated.

The answer was obvious.

But the words didn’t come right away.

“I—”

“I’ll show him.”

The voice cut cleanly through everything.

Familiar.

I turned before I thought about it.

Deedra stood in the doorway, her bright green eyes already on me, her expression lighting up the second I faced her. There wasn’t any hesitation in her posture, no uncertainty, like she hadn’t just changed direction to come in here.

Like she had planned it.

“There you are,” she said, stepping inside without breaking stride.

The tension in my chest didn’t disappear.

But it shifted.

She crossed the room quickly and wrapped her arms around me in a brief, easy hug, like it was the most normal thing in the world. I froze for half a second, caught off guard, before returning it, my arms moving a little slower.

“I’ve been waiting for you to get here.”

I blinked, not sure how to respond to that.

She didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t question.

Didn’t look at me like something was wrong.

“Thank you, Deedra,” Mrs. Young said with a small smile. “Don’t let him be late.”

“We won’t,” Deedra replied easily.

Her hand slipped into mine before I had time to think about it, warm and steady as she turned toward the hallway. I followed automatically, my grip tightening just slightly without meaning to.

I glanced back once.

At the desk.

At the empty space where Ms. Pratt used to sit.

The thought came again, quieter this time but still there.

Someone’s going to blame me.

They always do.

But Deedra didn’t let go.

And this time—

I didn’t pull away.

The hallway hit all at once.

The noise, the movement, the sheer number of people—it all pressed in the second we stepped out of the office. Voices overlapped in every direction, lockers slammed open and shut, footsteps echoed against the tile floors in uneven rhythms that didn’t match anything I could follow. It wasn’t like the mall. That had felt busy, but distant.

This felt close.

Too close.

My grip tightened around Deedra’s hand without me meaning to, and I lowered my head slightly, trying to focus on the space directly in front of me instead of everything happening around us. People brushed past on both sides, some moving quickly, others stopping without warning, forcing Deedra to adjust her path like she was used to it.

She didn’t slow down.

Didn’t hesitate.

She moved through the hallway like she belonged there, like none of it was something to think about. I focused on that instead—on her pace, on the steady pull of her hand guiding me forward—because it was easier than trying to process everything else.

Then I saw them.

Natalie and Greg stood off to the side near the office, talking with Mr. Thompson. They weren’t in the middle of the crowd, just far enough out of the way that people moved around them without stopping. The sight of them grounded something in me immediately, cutting through the noise in a way nothing else had.

I slowed without thinking.

My steps faltered just enough that the distance between me and Deedra shortened, the tension in my arm shifting as I pulled back slightly.

She noticed right away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, turning toward me without letting go.

I lifted the packet a little, the words catching before they could come out cleanly. “I need to give this to my—”

I didn’t finish.

I didn’t have to.

Her eyes dropped to the papers, then flicked back up to my face, reading the hesitation there without asking anything else.

“Oh—yeah, okay,” she said quickly, already turning. “Come on.”

She didn’t question it. Didn’t make it into something bigger. She just shifted direction and led me straight toward them, weaving through the crowd with the same ease as before.

Mr. Thompson noticed us first.

“Hello, Deedra. Zachary,” he said as we approached.

Greg’s attention shifted immediately after, his expression softening the second he saw me. “Hey, buddy,” he said, his tone easy and familiar. “What’s up?”

The words stuck again.

Not because I didn’t know what to say, but because everything still felt too close, too loud, too much at once. My grip tightened around the packet before I finally just held it out toward him instead of trying to explain.

Greg didn’t hesitate.

He took it, glancing at the top page just long enough to understand what it was before nodding.

“It’ll be on the kitchen table when you get home,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. His hand came up briefly, giving my shoulder a quick, grounding squeeze. “We’ll be out front at the end of the day, alright?”

I nodded.

That was enough.

I didn’t need more than that.

Deedra shifted beside me as soon as the moment settled, already turning us back toward the hallway before the pause could stretch into something awkward.

“Come on,” she said, her tone lighter now, like we were just picking up where we left off.

I followed, letting her guide me back into the flow of students. The noise didn’t go away, and the movement didn’t slow, but it didn’t hit quite as hard this time. Not the same way it had before.

I glanced back once, just for a second.

Greg and Natalie were still there, still talking with Mr. Thompson, still exactly where I had left them.

That helped.

I turned forward again, focusing on Deedra as she led the way down the hall, her hand still wrapped around mine, steady and sure.

And this time—

I didn’t feel like I was about to stop.

“Mrs. Coster doesn’t like people being late,” Deedra said as she guided me through the hallway, her pace steady even as the crowd shifted around us.

I focused on keeping up with her more than anything else. The noise still pressed in from all sides, voices overlapping in a way that made it hard to separate anything into something that made sense. Lockers slammed open and shut, someone laughed too loudly somewhere behind us, and footsteps echoed in uneven patterns that made it difficult to settle into any kind of rhythm.

It was easier not to try.

I kept my eyes forward, watching where Deedra stepped, letting her pull me through the movement. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow down, like this was all normal for her. Like none of it needed to be thought about.

We turned down a quieter hallway, and the difference was immediate. The noise dropped just enough that I noticed it without meaning to, the constant pressure easing slightly. My shoulders loosened a fraction, the tension shifting instead of disappearing.

“Almost there,” Deedra said, glancing back at me briefly.

I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure I needed to.

Room 109 came into view near the end of the hall.

She pushed the door open without hesitation and led me inside.

The room was already mostly full.

That was the first thing I noticed.

The second was how the noise changed. It didn’t disappear, but it softened into something more contained—low conversations, chairs scraping lightly against the floor, the quiet shuffle of movement that stayed inside the room instead of crashing into everything at once.

And then people noticed.

Not everyone. Not all at once. But enough.

A few heads turned. Conversations dipped slightly before picking back up again. Eyes lingered just long enough to be felt before shifting away. It wasn’t obvious, not something anyone would call out, but it settled over me anyway.

They’re looking.

My grip tightened slightly around Deedra’s hand without me meaning to.

She didn’t say anything about it.

She just walked me straight to the front of the room.

Mrs. Coster looked up as we approached. Her black hair, streaked with gray, was pulled tightly into a bun, and her glasses caught the light as her eyes moved from Deedra to me. There was a pause—brief, controlled—but I noticed it anyway.

My gaze dropped before I could stop it.

Deedra’s hand tightened slightly around mine, grounding without drawing attention to it.

“This is Zachary Brody,” she said. “It’s his first day, so I brought him down.”

Mrs. Coster gave a small nod. “Go ahead and take your seat, Deedra. I’m not going to bite him.”

Deedra let out a quiet laugh, but she didn’t move right away.

For a second, neither did I.

Then she gave my hand a small squeeze before letting go and heading back to her desk.

The shift was immediate.

Without her there, everything felt closer again. The room hadn’t gotten louder, but it felt like it had. Like the space around me had narrowed just enough to make me aware of it.

“Zachary,” Mrs. Coster said quietly.

I looked up.

She had stepped slightly closer to the edge of her desk, her voice low enough that it didn’t carry past me.

“You’re alright,” she said, calm and even. “No one in this room is holding anything against you.”

The words settled slowly.

Not dismissed. Not brushed aside.

Just… placed there.

She didn’t wait for a response, didn’t press for one. Her expression stayed steady, like she had already said what needed to be said.

“There’s an empty seat by the window,” she added, just as quietly.

I nodded and moved.

Each step felt deliberate, not rushed, not slow, just controlled enough that I didn’t draw attention to myself. I reached the desk she had indicated and set my bag down carefully before sitting.

The window was cold at my side, faint light filtering through the glass. I focused on that for a moment, letting the stillness of it settle against everything else.

Around me, the room continued on.

Conversations picked back up. Someone laughed quietly near the back. Papers shifted. Chairs moved.

Nothing stopped.

Nothing changed.

I pulled my notebook out slowly, resting it on the desk in front of me, giving my hands something to do. Something steady.

The tension didn’t disappear.

But it didn’t spike either.

It just… stayed where it was, without turning into something worse.

I pulled my notebook out slowly, resting it on the desk in front of me, giving my hands something to do. Something steady. The room continued around me like nothing had changed—quiet conversations, the soft scrape of chairs, the low hum of people settling in—but it didn’t press in the same way it had before.

I opened to a blank page and picked up my pencil.

For a second, I just stared at it.

Then I started doodling.

Nothing specific at first. Just lines. Shapes. Something to focus on that didn’t require me to look up or think too much about everything happening around me. The movement helped, the quiet scratch of the pencil grounding in a way the rest of the room wasn’t.

After a minute, the shapes started turning into something more recognizable without me really trying. A figure. Then another. I didn’t think about it, just let my hand move.

The chair in front of me shifted.

I didn’t look up right away.

“Can I see your schedule?” Deedra asked, twisting around in her seat so she could face me.

I blinked once, my attention pulling away from the page as I reached for the folded paper Mrs. Young had given me. I handed it over without saying anything, watching as she scanned it quickly.

Her expression changed almost immediately.

“We’ve got Reading, Algebra, and Choir together,” she said, a grin spreading across her face. “That’s like… half your day.”

“Snore.”

The voice came from my right, and I turned slightly before I could stop myself.

A boy leaned toward me, his expression dramatically unimpressed, like the conversation had personally offended him.

“I’m Sheldon Cooper,” he said, holding his hand out like this was a formal introduction.

“I’m Zach,” I replied, shifting my pencil into my other hand so I could shake it.

His grip was quick, like he had already moved on before I had fully processed it.

“You’re lucky,” he added, already looking back at the schedule in Deedra’s hands. “Cafferty didn’t get you for gym.”

“What’s wrong with Cafferty?” I asked quietly.

They both looked at me.

Then at each other.

Then back at me.

“He’s a monster,” Sheldon said flatly.

Deedra snorted. “He’s not that bad.”

“He made us run laps in the snow,” Sheldon shot back.

“You were complaining before you even started,” she replied.

“I complain professionally.”

I looked down at my notebook again, but this time I wasn’t really drawing.

I was listening.

The back-and-forth was easy, quick, like they’d had the same argument more than once. There wasn’t anything sharp in it, nothing that felt like it would turn into something worse. Just… normal.

Deedra handed my schedule back. “You’ll be fine,” she said. “Those classes are easy.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sheldon muttered.

“I am,” she said without missing a beat.

A small breath left me before I could stop it, not quite a laugh but close enough that I noticed it.

Neither of them pointed it out.

Which helped.

I looked back down at my notebook, my pencil moving again without much thought. This time the lines came together faster. Deedra, half-turned in her seat. Sheldon leaning over with that same exaggerated expression. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t have to be.

It was enough.

“Tone it down,” Mrs. Coster said from the front of the room, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice as she stepped over to my desk. She set a stack of textbooks down in front of me, the weight of them shifting the edge of my notebook slightly. “These are yours for the remainder of the year, Zachary.”

I looked up, nodding quickly.

“Sheldon,” she added, glancing toward him, “you can help him get these to his locker.”

Sheldon leaned back in his chair with a quiet huff. “This is how it starts,” he muttered. “Next thing you know, I’m a full-time tour guide.”

Deedra smirked. “You’d love that.”

“I would not,” he said immediately.

Mrs. Coster reached into her desk and pulled out two small slips of paper, setting them down in front of us. “Hall passes,” she said. “Take his books to his locker and get him where he needs to be.”

Sheldon glanced at them, then at her. “So I am a tour guide.”

“You’ll survive,” she replied evenly.

Deedra grinned as she turned back around in her seat. “Have fun,” she added.

Sheldon shook his head but grabbed one of the passes anyway, sliding the other toward me. “Come on,” he said, not unkindly. “We’ll do this before I change my mind.”

I nodded, pulling the hall pass a little closer as Mrs. Coster stepped away.

The room settled again after that, conversation dropping back into a quieter hum as everyone shifted into their own space. I looked down at my notebook, my pencil still resting lightly in my hand.

At the sketch.

I paused.

I hadn’t really thought about what I was drawing while I was doing it. It had just… happened. But now that I was looking at it properly, it was obvious.

Deedra, turned halfway around in her seat, that same expression she had when she was talking.

Sheldon leaning in, his face exaggerated in the middle of complaining.

I stared at it for a second longer than I meant to.

I had drawn them.

Not perfectly, not detailed, but clear enough that it didn’t need explaining.

My fingers tightened slightly around the pencil before I set it down carefully on the desk.

I picked up the hall pass, folding it once between my fingers as I stood, glancing toward the aisle.

Sheldon was already there, waiting.

Sheldon didn’t wait long once I stepped into the aisle.

“Alright,” he said, already turning toward the door, one hand adjusting the stack of books he had picked up without being asked. “Let’s get this over with before someone assigns me another responsibility.”

I followed him out into the hallway, shifting my own books slightly in my arms as the door closed behind us. The noise hit again, but it didn’t feel as sharp this time. It was still loud—lockers slamming, voices overlapping, footsteps echoing—but it didn’t press in the same way it had earlier.

Sheldon moved through it like he had done it a thousand times.

“Okay, so,” he started, already talking as we walked, “this hallway connects to the main wing, which is where most of your classes are going to be. Avoid the stairwell near the gym unless you like standing still for five minutes while people pretend they don’t know how stairs work.”

I glanced at him briefly, then back ahead, focusing on keeping pace.

“Your locker’s on this side,” he continued, nodding toward a row as we passed. “They try to keep people with similar schedules near each other, but it doesn’t always work. Last year I had to walk across the entire building between classes. It was a nightmare.”

We stopped in front of a locker, and he shifted the books in his arms before reaching out and pulling it open without hesitation.

“Three-oh-three,” he said, stepping aside slightly. “All yours.”

I moved closer, setting my books inside carefully, stacking them in a way that made sense to me even if it probably didn’t matter. The metal felt cold against my hand, the inside of the locker mostly empty except for what we had just put there.

Sheldon watched for a second, then shook his head slightly. “You know what’s funny?” he said. “They give us hall passes like we’re going somewhere important, and we’re literally just walking these right back to Coster’s room for Reading.”

I blinked, then let out a small, unexpected giggle before I could stop it.

The sound surprised me more than anything.

Heat crept into my face almost immediately after, and I ducked my head slightly, focusing on adjusting one of the books so I didn’t have to look at him.

Sheldon didn’t make a big deal out of it.

He just nodded toward the locker. “Go ahead and grab your Algebra book too,” he added. “If you do it right, you don’t have to keep coming back here between every class.”

I paused, then reached in and pulled it out, holding it against the rest of my things.

“Most people just carry everything and complain about it,” he continued. “Or they forget something and panic halfway through the day. If you plan it out, you’ll only need to stop here a couple times to swap stuff out.”

I nodded, listening carefully.

That made sense.

More than just guessing.

“Don’t lose your combination either,” he added. “They don’t change them unless you ask, and even then it takes forever.”

“Okay,” I said quietly.

I closed the locker, the metal door clicking into place with a solid sound that felt louder than it should have.

“Thanks,” I added after a second.

He shrugged like it wasn’t anything worth mentioning. “It’s part of my new job description, apparently.”

Another small breath left me, lighter this time.

Sheldon pushed off the lockers and started walking again, glancing back just enough to make sure I was following. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go back before she decides we’ve taken too long and sends a search party.”

I followed him back into the flow of the hallway, shifting my grip slightly on the books now that I was carrying more. The movement around us didn’t feel as overwhelming this time. It was still there—loud, constant—but it didn’t feel like it was closing in.

Sheldon kept talking as we walked, pointing things out without slowing down. Different classrooms, shortcuts through certain hallways, which teachers cared about being early and which ones didn’t. It wasn’t overwhelming the way everything else had been earlier. It gave the noise something to settle around instead of just filling the space.

We reached the classroom again, students already inside, the door still open.

Sheldon stepped aside slightly, letting me go in first.

Natalie and Greg were both waiting out front when the final bell rang.

I spotted them almost immediately, standing near the curb like they hadn’t moved far from where they had dropped me off that morning. The sight of them did something quiet in my chest, something steady, and I found myself walking a little faster without really thinking about it.

“How’d it go?” Natalie asked as soon as I reached them, her voice warm but not overwhelming.

“Good,” I said, and it came out easier than I expected.

Greg smiled at that, opening the car door for me. “That’s what we like to hear.”

The drive home felt shorter than the one that morning. I talked more than I meant to, telling them about Deedra and Sheldon, about how we had classes together, about how the day had gone. The words came easier the longer I spoke, like once they started, they didn’t want to stop.

Natalie listened with a soft smile, glancing at me every so often from the passenger seat. “You know,” she said at one point, “I’m pretty sure both of them live on our street.”

I blinked at that. “They do?”

“I think so,” she said. “I’ve seen them around.”

Something small and quiet settled into place at that, and I couldn’t stop the slight smile that came with it.

By the time we got home, the day felt… real. Like it had actually happened the way I remembered it, not something that was going to fall apart if I thought about it too hard.

I set my book bag down next to the chair I usually sat in for dinner, the weight of it heavier than it should have been.

“Do you need any help with your homework?” Greg asked as he set his keys down on the counter.

“Not really,” I said softly. “It’s just Reading, Health, and English. I… I did my Algebra in Study Hall.”

Greg glanced at the bag, then back at me. “Then why’d you bring home all your books?”

The question hit harder than it should have.

My gaze dropped immediately to the table, my fingers tightening slightly at my sides as heat rushed up into my face. I hadn’t thought about how to explain it. I hadn’t thought about saying it out loud.

Because saying it out loud made it sound—

wrong.

“I… I…” The words caught, breaking apart before I could force them together.

You’re going to get in trouble.

The thought came fast, automatic, like it had always been there waiting.

Better to be prepared.

Better not to mess up.

My chest tightened, the familiar pressure building too quickly, my breathing starting to hitch before I could stop it. I didn’t know how to explain it without it sounding stupid. I didn’t know how to say that I didn’t trust myself not to do something wrong.

And I couldn’t lie.

I never could.

The first tear slipped down before I even realized it was coming, and that only made it worse. My hands started to shake, my shoulders following, the panic rising faster now that it had somewhere to go.

Greg moved before I could react.

One second I was standing there, trying to hold it together, and the next his arms were around me, steady and firm without being too tight. He pulled me in close, one hand coming up to the back of my head, not forcing anything, just there.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Zachary,” he said, his voice calm and even, right near my ear.

I tried to nod, but it came out uneven.

“Natalie and I trust you,” he continued. “You don’t have to prove anything. Just get your homework done and do your best. That’s it.”

My hands clenched slightly in the fabric of his shirt.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his expression steady, not confused, not frustrated—just sure.

“You don’t need to carry everything like that,” he added, nodding lightly toward the bag. “You’re not going to get in trouble for doing it differently.”

I swallowed, trying to steady my breathing.

His hand came up briefly, brushing against my hair before resting back on my shoulder. “We’re not looking for reasons to be upset with you,” he said. “Alright?”

I nodded again, this time a little more solid.

The panic didn’t disappear completely.

But it didn’t take over either.

It settled, slowly, like it didn’t have the same hold it used to.