The campus felt bigger than he expected.
—
Louder, too.
—
Voices overlapping.
Footsteps echoing.
Laughter breaking through in sudden bursts.
—
Christopher stood near the entrance for a moment, adjusting the strap of his bag.
—
He exhaled slowly.
—
"…It's fine," he murmured to himself.
—
A small habit.
—
Something steady.
—
Then he stepped forward.
—
—
Everything felt new.
—
Not unfamiliar
—
—
just… open.
—
No one watching him.
—
No one waiting for him.
—
No one calling his name.
—
—
It should've felt strange.
—
But it didn't.
—
—
It felt
—
—
good.
—
—
His classes went better than he expected.
—
He listened carefully.
Took notes.
Answered when asked.
—
Simple things.
—
Normal things.
—
—
At some point, he realized
—
—
he was smiling.
—
Just a little.
—
—
Maybe this would work.
—
—
Maybe he could be okay here.
—
—
By the time the welcome ceremony started, the campus felt less overwhelming.
—
Still loud.
—
Still crowded.
—
But manageable.
—
—
Christopher stood near the back.
—
Not too far.
—
Not too close.
—
Just enough to be there
—
—
without being noticed.
—
—
That's how he preferred it.
—
—
At first, he didn't pay much attention.
—
People talked.
Laughed.
Moved around.
—
But then
—
—
a shift.
—
—
Not loud.
—
Just… noticeable.
—
—
Voices changed.
—
Attention moved.
—
—
Christopher glanced up.
—
—
There was someone at the center of it.
—
—
A boy.
—
Surrounded.
—
—
People leaned toward him.
—
Spoke to him easily.
—
Like it was natural.
—
—
Christopher didn't know his name yet.
—
But he heard pieces of it around him.
—
"…Jackson"
—
"…Did you see"
—
"…He's"
—
The rest blurred together.
—
—
He watched quietly.
—
—
There was nothing exaggerated about him.
—
Nothing loud.
—
—
And yet
—
—
everyone noticed him.
—
—
Christopher tilted his head slightly.
—
—
Strange.
—
—
For a moment, he wondered what that felt like.
—
To be seen like that.
—
To be
—
—
important.
—
—
The thought didn't last long.
—
—
He looked away.
—
—
People like that existed.
—
—
And people like him did too.
—
—
It was simpler that way.
—
—
Safer.
—
—
Still
—
—
his gaze drifted back once more.
—
—
Just briefly.
—
—
The boy laughed at something someone said.
—
Easy.
—
Unforced.
—
—
Christopher looked down again.
—
—
"…He's different," he thought.
—
—
And then, quieter
—
—
almost without realizing it
—
—
"…I'm not."
—
—
The noise around him continued.
—
The moment passed.
—
—
Christopher adjusted his bag again.
—
—
Maybe
—
—
this place would be different.
—
—
Maybe he could make friends.
—
—
Or maybe
—
—
just being here would be enough.
—
—
Either way
—
—
he stayed where he was.
—
—
Present.
—
—
But still
—
—
unnoticed.