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!

teacher–Zane’s picking on someone!” someone shouted

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

eyes filled with tears. He never meant any harm–sure,

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

on your new

Zane blurted out,

“Seatmate?” York paused/confused.

someone chimed in, always

was happening. He rushed over, the crowd parted quickly to

and

written all over

11:55

Ivan, hands fluttering helplessly.

me–York. Are you alright? Do

and York’s worry only grew. He turned to

did you

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