Six days until Sports Day, and the field buzzed with energy. The sharp smell of grass and sweat hung in the air, and whistles sliced through the chatter at regular intervals. Groups of classmates clustered together, voices overlapping in easy laughter, the kind that felt like it had been rehearsed over years of friendship.
Yesterday, Xavier had sat alone at lunch, untouched by the cafeteria noise. But today, it was pretty different. On the field, he was different.
One of the guys in our section jogged over to him during drills. Another joined, then another. Within minutes, Xavier was tossing words back and forth with them, teasing and laughing like he'd been part of the group forever. His grin — sharp but warm — made it impossible to ignore him. By the end of practice, he was clapping backs, joking with loud laughter, bending the atmosphere around him effortlessly. I stayed back, stretching half-heartedly, chest tight. He made it look so natural, so easy… and somehow, I didn't feel invisible anymore.
The next day at lunch, I was heading to my usual quiet corner when a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Hold on," Xavier called, his tone playful. Then he tapped my shoulder. "Come here."
Before I could ask what he meant, his hand curled around my arm. He didn't wait for my consent — he tugged me along like it was decided for me. My pulse spiked at the sudden contact, heat rising to my face, but I didn't resist.
He led me straight to the table where his new friends were already sitting. I froze, nervous and unsure of my place. But Xavier didn't hesitate. He slung an arm around my shoulder, pulling me down into the seat beside him.
"This is Jay," he said casually, it sounded like that explained everything.
The others nodded and smiled, welcoming me with a warmth I hadn't felt in months. I managed a quiet "hi," my voice catching slightly, but it didn't matter. Xavier leaned into the conversation, nudging me in and keeping me included. "You're coming, right?" Xavier asked. I was really confused since I was zoned out for quite a while, "To what...?" I replied. "The hangout on Saturday, which is tomorrow." he responded prompt and quickly, so I wanted to try and change the atmosphere and surprisingly I said "Yes"
Lunch ended too quickly. For the first time in a long while, I hadn't eaten alone. Somehow, it was because of him.
Saturday arrived faster than I expected.
I tried to back out in my mind, telling myself I didn't belong. But when the group met up, Xavier spotted me lingering and waved me over like I'd been part of them all along. I had dressed differently that day, something I'd never normally wear: a colorful sweater that made my shoulders look smaller, crisp white jeans, and my old Converse sneakers. I'd hoped no one would notice — but Xavier did.
The first thing he said when I joined the group was a low chuckle, his eyes lingering on me longer than usual. "You… look really cute today Jay," he said, casual but impossible to ignore. My ears burned instantly. The hangout was effortless at first. Arcade lights flashed around us as we raced cars, challenged claw machines, and laughed louder than I had in months. Xavier nudged me into games, shoving tokens into my hand with that grin. "Your turn," he said, making it impossible to hide on the sidelines.
I lost spectacularly. They laughed — all in good fun — and I found myself laughing too, cheeks aching from the warmth of belonging. And somehow, that little compliment from Xavier kept echoing in my head, making the day feel even lighter.
Afterward, we grabbed food at a small diner. Tables were sticky, smells of fries thick in the air, and the group's energy filled the space like it had always been theirs. I listened more than I spoke, but it didn't matter. Xavier kept me included without making it obvious, and for once, I didn't feel like an outsider. Evening came, and one by one, people drifted away. Plans, parents, curfews. Eventually, it was just me and Xavier standing outside under the orange streetlights.
"See you," I said softly.
He waved lazily, grin faint but warm. "Yeah. Don't get lost on your way home."
I turned, carrying the lingering warmth with me, feet light, heart quieter than usual.
And then I froze.
Across the street, not far enough to pretend I hadn't noticed, was Jenny. Her hair caught the glow of the streetlamp, and her laughter — sharp and familiar — wrapped around me. Her hand was threaded through someone else's. A taller boy, broad-shouldered, his grin easy and dangerous.
His eyes locked on mine first. The smirk curling on his lips promised more than words. Jenny followed his gaze. When her eyes landed on me, her laughter faltered. My chest tightened. The warmth I'd carried all day shattered into cold dread.
I should have turned and walked away. Pretended not to see. Wishing they never saw me.
But my legs wouldn't move. I was scared. I was panicking.