The seat next to me had been empty for a whole year—ever since she called me useless, poor, pathetic and left me heavy-eyed and tired to even care about people—so when someone hovered over that desk, I didn't even hesitate to look up.
"Is this seat taken?"
His voice was deep low. Smooth. Way too calm for someone who certainly did not belong here
I looked up—big mistake
Brown hair, jawline like it could break glass, bruises fading on his face and wrist. The kind of boy girls fall for in one glance. The kind of boy I had no energy for.
"Clearly not." I spoke up, because it really wasn't
He sat down with no hesitation at all, like he hadn't just broke the weird peace I made with that seat.
"Cool." He responded, then he glanced at me "I'm Xavier"
I didn't even try to reply. But my heart did something stupid anyway.
Moments later, the bell rang signaling break time. The classroom scattered like animals at the zoo—chairs scraping, loud laughter bouncing off the thin walls, boys shouting and moving toward the door like they were chasing freedom, the girls sitting down putting on makeup and gossiping.
But me?—I stayed put.
The seat next to me was no longer empty—a year of silence and space where she used to sit, it was taken by him, where her presence haunted the edges of everything I did.
The other boys were already crowding and surrounding around him, Xavier.
"Yo, are you that one guy who fought off that gang downtown?" one said, with a grinning face.
"Yeah, I was just bored so why not fight people who are so annoying" Xavier responded to him with a hint of humor. They laughed and kept asking questions about him.
Xavier paused them and asked a random question out of nowhere.
"By the way, who's that, the blond kid"
They looked over at me like I was a classroom ghost.
One replied, "Oh—That's Jay. He's uh... been through some bad stuff over the past year. That seat, a girl who dumped him used to sit there. Called him broken, useless, stuff like that"
I felt my chest tighten, tears almost coming out of my eyes, a hollow ache spreading.
Xavier's eyes narrowed, not in a judgmental way, but in something way gentle—curiosity, maybe a little bit of concern.
"Broken, huh?" He murmured, more to himself than anyone else
I didn't move a muscle. Didn't speak either.
But I could feel his gaze, heavy and unexpected, like he was trying to get something out of me, trying to figure how someone can carry all that and just sit still. Then he just walked up to me kneeling down near my desk.
"Do you want to grab a drink with me? I heard there's a vending machine with lots of options down the hall." He says with a gentle voice.
I blinked, heart pounding faster than I thought it would, caught off guard.
"I'm fine," I coldly replied, barely a whisper, pulling my sleeves down like I was putting on an armor.
Xavier didn't pressure me. Didn't pry either. He just nodded it off and walked back to the noisy boys who were talking to him.
But that quiet moment—the offer, the eyes when he looked at me—it all stuck with me. Maybe this break wasn't an empty space anymore, maybe it was the first crack of the wall I built around me.\
The bell rang once again, calling the end of the break time. The others just scattered and rushed back to their desks, laughter still lingering in the air like fog that refuses to lift. Xavier didn't move foot, he just stayed beside me.
I was hesitant not to look at him, but the second he asked about me—asking who I am, made my chest tighten. Them saying I was called broken.
No one had said that word to me in a long while.
I thought I'd gotten used to it, but hearing someone say it to someone else—especially him—made something sting in a way I didn't expect. Not because it was wrong. Because it really wasn't.
The other sat down on their seats, the teacher continued to talk after 10 minutes of break time—something about quadrant equations. I didn't catch the first half. Maybe not the second. I was just staring at my paper, my pen hovering over the paper unmoving.
Xavier leaned back in his chair, one leg lifting up on the desk stretched out, head tilted like nothing even mattered to him. It's like he wasn't new, that he belonged here.
I know I never belonged here.
And yet—
"Are you really never going to talk to me?" he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear.
My heart skipped a beat. Why do I feel like this?
I glanced sideways. He wasn't looking at me, just scribbling something in his notebook with maddening ease, like math was another fight to win.
"I don't talk to people," I said barely above a whisper
"You just talked"
I hated the way his voice sound amused. Not mocking—just... interested.
I went back to staring at my paper. "People don't usually care."
He didn't answer right after I said that. For a second, I thought maybe that was the end of the conversation Good. It was better this way. Safer for him.
But then—
"Well i'm not the 'People'," he responded with such confidence
I couldn't respond. My throat tightened, again. The way it was always got when I wasn't sure if I was about to cry, snap or both. So I stayed silent.
But as the class went on, I couldn't stop noticing the way his elbow almost touched mine. The warmth of someone beside me. The absence of judgment in the way he just sat there, calm and steady.
I wasn't sure if Xavier was trying to be nice, or was just bored. But either way, for the first time in a year, I didn't feel invisible.