The day at school felt off. Not in a bad way—just… different.

  I wasn’t used to people waiting for me.

  Yet there she was.

  Astrid stood at the entrance of G Block, arms crossed, blonde hair catg the sunlight. She spotted me immediately, a smirk tugging at her lips as I approached.

  “Look who didn’t ditch me,” she teased.

  “Didn’t have the energy,” I muttered, adjusting my bag strap.

  She grinned. “So I’ve officially worn you down. Good to know.”

  I sighed. “Are you always this smug?”

  “Only when I’m right.”

  I rolled my eyes a walking. She fell into step beside me like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  It was weird how easy this had bee.

  By the time lunch rolled around, I instinctively started heading to my usual spot—only now, I wasn’t alone.

  Astrid walked beside me, hands in the pockets of her bzer. People noticed. They stared. Whispered.

  Why is Astrid Bright with him?

  I ig.

  Astrid, however, did not.

  We passed by a group of guys he cafeteria entrance, and I could feel their eyes on us. One of them—some guy from our year—muttered something under his breath.

  Astrid abruptly stopped walking.

  I paused too, gng at her. Her jaw was set, blue eyes sharp.

  “Repeat that,” she said, turning to face the guy.

  He blinked, caught off guard. “Uh—what?”

  “You said something. Say it again.”

  He hesitated, suddenly looking a lot less fident. “I just—uh, it’s just weird, you know? You and him—”

  Astrid’s head tilted. “Him?”

  The guy faltered.

  I sighed. “Astrid, let’s go.”

  But she ignored me, stepping closer to him. “What, you think I need your permission to hang out with someone? Is there, like, a rulebook for who I’m allowed to sit with?”

  “N-No, I just—”

  “Then shut up,” she said ftly.

  The guy swallowed hard.

  I watched, vaguely impressed.

  Astrid turned on her heel and grabbed my sleeve, tugging me along. “e on, Henry. I’m starving.”

  She dragged me toward the back of G Block, leaving the stunned group behind.

  Once we were out of sight, I let out a breath. “That was unnecessary.”

  She huffed, uning her sandwich. “No, it wasn’t.”

  “They were just talking.”

  “They were being stupid.” She took a bite and frow me. “You don’t care, do you?”

  “Nope.”

  She studied me for a moment, then shook her head. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  She sighed dramatically. “Ugh, I ’t believe this is my life now. Defending some antisocial bookworm like he’s my actual friend.”

  I smirked. “Who said I’m your friend?”

  She gasped in mock offense. “Excuse you—we shared food, Henry. That’s bonding.”

  I chuckled, shaking my head.

  Astrid grinned, but then her expression softened slightly.

  “…But seriously,” she murmured, eyes flig back toward the school building. “Don’t let idiots like that get to you.”

  I tilted my head. “They don’t.”

  She hummed, watg me.

  Then, slowly, she leaned her shoulder against mine.

  Not enough to be obvious. Just enough to be there.

  I didn’t move away.

  And for some reason, that seemed to be enough for her.

  ***

  “What about your friends?” I asked casually, taking a bite of a yogurt biscuit. I had thought it was weird at first, but it turned out to be surprisingly tasty and unique.

  Astrid merely shrugged, using my shoulder as a pillow.

  “Don’t feel like hanging out with them,” she sighed. “Don’t get me wrong—some of them are great, nice people. But most of them are just there for the social hierarchy, like being in the proup is some kind of… I don’t know.”

  She waved a hand dismissively before tinuing.

  “Anyway, my ex is in that group too, and I really don’t want to deal with all the questions.” She finished her thought while poking at the fruit in her bowl.

  I g it. “That’s all you’re eating?”

  She hesitated, her fingers pying with a grape for a moment before finally answering.

  “…Yeah,” she muttered. “I don’t really have an appetite, and I don’t want to put o.”

  I stared at her ftly. “Right… because you’re already not approag stick-figure status.”

  “Hey,” she huffed, lightly hitting my arm.

  “The only thing with any fat on you is your boobs,” I said bluntly.

  Astrid huffed again.

  “That’s rude. Also, I hate you,” she said.

  “Doesn’t make it arue,” I shrugged. I grabbed my half-eaten cheese sandwid held it out to her. “Here, eat this.”

  She sched up her nose. “Don’t feel like it. Plus, you’re literally givihe part you already ate from… you might have rabies.”

  “Eat.”

  Astrid snorted.

  “Fine… you’re so pushy, you know that?” she said, taking a bite.

  “It’s because you’re not looking after yourself,” I said simply. “Food’s literally one of the only good things in life. Stop depriving yourself.”

  Astrid rolled her eyes but kept chewing.

  “Apart from sex,” she smirked.

  “Pervert,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

  She grieasingly, deliberately lig her lips.

  “Yeah, yeah… mock the virgin,” I said dryly. “Now finish this.”

  “Yes, boss,” she said, giving me a mock salute before taking another bite.

  Astrid finished chewing and gave me a sideways gnce. “You’re oddly ied in my eating habits, you know that?”

  I shrugged. “You’re oddly bad at taking care of yourself.”

  She smirked. “Maybe I just like the attention.”

  I gave her a ft look. “Right. Starving for validation and actual food.”

  She ughed, nudgih her foot. “God, you’re so blunt. It’s refreshing.”

  I took another bite of my biscuit. “Most people find it annoying.”

  She hummed. “Yeah, well… I’m not most people.”

  That much was obvious.

  She stretched again, leaning back against the wall. “Anyway, enough about me. What about you? Any deep, dark secrets I should know?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

  She smirked. “So I have leverage.”

  I sighed. “s.”

  “Liar.”

  “Not lying.”

  She pouted. “e on, Henry. You know so much about my tragic life. Give me something.”

  I thought about it. “I used to want to be a chef.”

  Astrid blinked. “Wait, really?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah. When I was a kid, I thought food was the only thing that made sense. You follow the recipe, you get a good result. Seemed simple.”

  She studied me for a sed, then smiled. “That’s actually kind of adorable.”

  I frowned. “Not the rea I was going for.”

  She snickered. “What happened? Why’d you ge your mind?”

  I exhaled, brushing crumbs off my hands. “Realized I like eating food more than making it.”

  She burst out ughing. “That is the most Henry answer ever.”

  I smirked slightly. “Well, you asked.”

  She shook her head, still grinning. “You know, I think you’d be a really good chef.”

  I hummed. “Doubt it.”

  “No, seriously!” she insisted. “You’re super particur about food. And, like, you actually care about eople eat. It makes sense.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If I wao work in a hot, cramped kit for twelve hours a day, I’d just go sit in hell.”

  She snorted. “Fair.”

  We sat in silence for a bit, the background noise of students chattering filling the space between us.

  Then, out of nowhere, Astrid spoke again—quieter this time.

  “…I think I’m gonna keep sitting with you.”

  I blinked, gng at her. “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Feels… better. Less exhausting.”

  I tilted my head slightly, watg her.

  She wasn’t looking at me anymore—just absently pig at the hem of her bzer, her usual teasing grin nowhere in sight.

  “…Alright,” I said simply.

  She finally g me. “Yeah?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  Something about that answer made her rex a little.

  She stretched o time, letting out a tent sigh before resting her head on my shoulder again.

  “Cool,” she murmured.

  I didn’t move away.

  And, once again, that seemed to be enough.

  Astrid stayed quiet for a while, her head still resting on my shoulder.

  I thought she was doalking, but then, almost out of nowhere, she muttered, “You know… I don’t really like being alone.”

  I stilled slightly, gng down at her.

  She wasn’t looking at me. Her fingers pyed with the fabric of her skirt, twisting and untwisting the hem absently.

  “I mean, I be alone,” she crified. “I just… don’t like it.”

  I didn’t say anything right away, letting her fill the silence if she wao.

  She did.

  “I used to be fih it when I was younger,” she tinued, voice softer now. “But as I got older, I realized… I don’t know. It’s easier to pretend things are okay when you have people around.”

  She shifted slightly, pressing just a little closer to me.

  “When I’m by myself, it’s like everything catches up all at once,” she admitted. “Like all the shit I don’t wanna think about just sits there, waiting.”

  I exhaled slowly. “That’s why you surround yourself with people?”

  She nodded against my shoulder. “Yeah. Guess so.”

  I thought about that.

  Astrid was always the ter of attention—ughing, teasing, blending into the social hierarchy like she was born for it.

  But now?

  Now she just looked… tired.

  Not physically. Something deeper than that.

  “…That’s exhausting,” I said quietly.

  She let out a small, breathy ugh. “Yeah. It is.”

  She shifted again, this time grabbing my arm and ing it around herself.

  I blinked. “Okay. gy.”

  “Shut up,” she muttered, tightening her hold slightly. “I told you—I like warmth.”

  “Get a b.”

  “I have o’s not the same.”

  I sighed, but I didn’t push her off.

  “…You don’t have to do that with me,” I said after a moment.

  She frowned slightly. “Do what?”

  “Pretend.”

  She stilled.

  I kept going. “You don’t have to force yourself to talk or fill the silence or act like everything’s fine. I don’t care if you’re fun or iing or whatever.” I g her. “If you wanna sit here and just exist, that’s fioo.”

  She didn’t answer right away.

  Then, quietly, she whispered, “You mean that?”

  I nodded.

  She let out a slow breath, like something in her chest had finally unched.

  “…I like that,” she admitted. “Not having to try so hard.”

  “Sounds easier,” I said.

  She hummed. “Yeah. It is.”

  We sat there for a while, her of us talking.

  Her grip on my arm didn’t loosen.

  If anything, she held on just a little tighter.

  The rest of lunch passed quietly. Astrid stayed curled up against me, her grip on my arm firm like she was afraid I’d slip away if she let go.

  She didn’t talk much after that, and for once, she didn’t o.

  I let her g to me, let her settle into the silence.

  I wasn’t used to this—someone needing me like this.

  A… I didn’t mind.

  ***

  The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

  Astrid groaned into my shoulder. “Nooo. I don’t wanna move.”

  I exhaled, trying to pry my arm from her grip. “Yeah, well, unless you wan detention, you might wanna resider.”

  She sighed dramatically but still didn’t let go.

  “Astrid.”

  “Henry.”

  I gave her a ft look. “You’re still holding onto me.”

  She blinked up at me. “So?”

  “So—let go.”

  She narrowed her eyes, sidering. Then, with the smirk of someone about to be a menace, she tightened her grip.

  “No.”

  I sighed. “Seriously?”

  “I’ve decided,” she decred. “You’re my emotional support human now.”

  I pihe bridge of my hat’s not a thing.”

  “It is now.”

  I groaned. “Astrid—”

  “I hate going to css,” she whined, leaning her forehead against my shoulder. “It’s b and loud, and all the teachers secretly hate me.”

  I huffed a small ugh. “I don’t think it’s a secret.”

  She gasped dramatically. “Henry! You’re supposed to reassure me.”

  “Then you picked the wrong person.”

  She groaned again, but finally—finally—released my arm.

  I rolled my shoulder, testing it. “Great. I feel my blood circution again.”

  “Oh, hush. You liked it,” she teased, stig her to at me.

  I stood up, brushing off my pants. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

  She ughed, stretg befetting up as well.

  We started heading back toward the building.

  Halfway there, Astrid suddenly grabbed my sleeve again.

  I g her. “What now?”

  She hesitated, chewing her lip.

  “…You’re not gonna stop talking to me after today, right?”

  I frowned slightly. “Why would I?”

  She shrugged, looking almost… uain.

  “…Dunno,” she murmured. “Guess I just don’t want this to be a one-day thing.”

  I studied her for a sed.

  Then, without a word, I reached out and flicked her forehead.

  She yelped, rubbing the spot with a gre. “Ow! What the hell?!”

  I smirked. “That was for doubting me.”

  She blihen—slowly—her lips curled into a small, real smile.

  “…Okay,” she murmured. “Got it.”

  I nodded. “Good.”

  She grabbed my arm again—this time just briefly—before letting go as we ehe school.

  And just like that, Astrid Bright became part of my life.

  Whether I liked it or not.