“Sit,” he repeats, and it’s gentle. Not a command. Not a request. Just the only thing left to do. “There’s no reason to keep hiding in the bathroom. Hide here. There’s a force field, you know.” He lowers his voice when he says it, like he’s telling me a secret, and then just barely hints at a smile that no one but me would catch before he puts it away and sobers, adding quietly, “No one will bother you.” So I sit. He’s on the backrest and I’m on the seat. We don’t touch. We don’t speak. We aren’t even at eye level with one another. And today, for the first time since I came to this school, the
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