Ivan looked up and found himself face–to–face with a boy at least a head taller than him, flanked by two slightly shorter boys. The three closed in, boxing him into a corner, while the other kids on the playground fell silent and turned to watch

He pressed his lips together, wanting to say “hello,” but the word got stuck in his throat. No sound came out.

The tall boy scowled impatiently and shoved him.

“Hey, are you deaf or blind? I asked what your name is!”

Ivan stared at him, suddenly struggling to breathe. His face drained of color, and he clutched his chest, gasping for air.

The sight rattled the three boys.

“Hey! I didn’t do anything to you–what’s wrong with you?” the ringleader

stammered, panic creeping into his voice. “I barely touched you! I just asked your

name!

hitting people! Zane hit someone! Tell the teacher–Zane’s picking on someone!” someone shouted from behind them. The classroom erupted into chaos, and

anyone! I didn’t!” Zane yelled back. More kids gathered, crowding around, and Ivan felt as if the room

tears. He never meant any

over there? Why are you all crowding around my desk?” A voice cut through the commotion from

picking on

am not!” Zane blurted out,

“Seatmate?” York paused/confused.

really cute!” someone chimed in, always eager

was happening. He rushed over, the

and

written

11:55

Ivan, hands fluttering helplessly.

Are you alright? Do you feel

York’s worry only grew. He turned to

did you do

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