The conversations die as I approach. Everyone watches as I set my tray down next to his, as I slide into the seat beside him.
"Hey," he says, like this is normal. Like I belong here.
"Hey."
His friends exchange glances. Tyler, the wide receiver, speaks first. "So. You and Zeke, huh?"
"Is that a problem?" I ask, proud of how steady my voice sounds.
"Nah. Just... unexpected."
"Life's full of surprises."
Someone laughs. The tension breaks slightly.
Zeke's hand finds my knee under the table, a brief squeeze of support. I don't pull away.
Lunch passes in a blur of awkward small talk and curious glances. But I survive it. More than survive- I make it through without having a panic attack, without running away, without letting fear win.
When the bell rings, Zeke walks me to my locker.
