Fletcher was leaning against one of the lockers while he waited for Sam to finish Geography. Somehow, in the course of this month, this has become a routine. After the bell rang for lunch, if Fletcher was early, he'd wait for Sam and, if not, then vice versa. Admittedly so, Fletcher was never clingy — far from it — but Thea had done it for him, regardless if they had lunch next or not, despite him always pulling away. And, most of all, she had done it with a smile on her face so the least Fletcher could do was pay it forward.

But here's what's not part of the routine — Noor Rahal, who was walking side by side with Sam as they left Mrs Larkin's room. At the sight of her, Fletcher's jaw tightened. He was mad at her — and this wasn't his usual distaste for human beings — no, Fletcher was genuinely mad at Noor. For being blamed for their failure and being ignored for the past week.

And, it really shouldn't trouble him this much, but it did. Because it mattered to him and because, for the once in his life, Fletcher actually cared.

"Sorry we're late," Sam said as he and Noor headed towards Fletcher's direction.

"It's fine," Fletcher said, his attention solely focused on Sam. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Oh, by the way," Sam added as he nudged Noor slightly. "Do you mind if Noor joined us today?"

Noor's eyes widened. "No, it's okay —"

Sam turned to her and said, seriously, "Noor, can't spend all your time studying. You at least have to eat."

"Let her be," Fletcher cut in. He was being petty, he knew, but then again, it was part of his nature. "God forbid she get a B in any of her classes."

Sam groaned at Fletcher's words and he stepped aside so that he stood in between his sarcastic friend and Noor. "You guys are still hung up on this?"

Instead of answering, Noor turned away. "I have to go —"

"Hell no," Sam remarked, grabbing hold of Noor's wrist and pulling her back when he noticed she was about to leave.

"Why should this even matter to you, Sam?" Fletcher asked.

"Because you two are my friends," he said and, there must have been a look on Fletcher's face, because Sam's features grew irritated. "Yes, Fletcher, Noor is my friend."

Then Sam let go of Noor's wrist and pointed to the two of them. "Fix this. The both of you," he said and when neither of them spoke, Sam impatiently tapped his foot and added, in a much louder tone, "I'm waiting!"

Noor looked away, her gaze instead focused on the tiled floor. This somehow made Fletcher more furious. "Look, Fletcher, I —"

"Save it," he cut off.

But, in spite of Fletcher's constant glaring, Noor continued. "I don't have an excuse. I was an ass and I'm sorry."

"You ignored me for a week and that's all you have to say?"

"What else do you want me to say?"

"Gee, I don't know, maybe start with why you got so pissed off in the first place?"

Sam took a cautious step forward. "Fletcher —"

"Because I can't get a bad grade, okay?" She finally said, making the two boys pause in front of her. "I can't risk lowering my GPA. I can't risk disappointing my parents, so I freaked and I blamed it on you and — I'm sorry."

For the first time, Fletcher looked at Noor and didn't see the star-student everyone deemed her to be. Now, he only saw a girl who just wanted to make her parents proud, who just wanted to be good enough. And, as much as he hated feeling things, it made Fletcher drop his resolve.

"Okay," he said, but really he meant, Okay, I forgive you.

Noor looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and Fletcher could see the hope welling up in her irises. "Okay?"

Fletcher nodded. Once. "Yeah, okay." For a moment both Sam and Noor's shoulder's relaxed, then he added, "But..."

Sam's mouth fell. "Oh, come on —"

At the same time, Noor's hopeful gaze faltered. "But?"

"Can you promise that this wouldn't happen again?"

Noor fell silent again. "I don't know," she answered honestly. She paused. Then, lifting her head up, she said, "But I can promise to do better...starting with taking a break from studying and...eating with you guys."

If he was still the boy he was a few months ago, Fletcher wouldn't have bothered. Wouldn't have stayed. Because staying meant facing the risk of getting hurt, of being abandoned first and let down by others. However, Fletcher wasn't the boy he was back then, so, instead of leaving, the edge of his lip tugged — not into a smile, never into a smile — but almost. "Come on, before we run out of places to sit."

—

Fletcher was the last one at school again. Though this time, it wasn't because he was stuck in detention. He had, accidentally, fallen asleep in the library after studying with Noor and had woken up right before Ms. Abruzzo closed down the library.

Now Fletcher was running down the halls in hopes of catching the bus home. What stopped him mid-run was the door that rudely slammed in his face.

"Fuck!" He swore aloud, his glasses hitting the ground.

"Crap, I'm sorry," someone said, bending down to grab Fletcher's glasses.

Fletcher rubbed his eyes and, with his free hand, took back the glasses from the stranger's grasp. He put them on and blinked, a clear picture of Gabriella Matsumoto coming into view.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Gabriella crossed her arms. "I'm not happy to see you either, stalker."

"Will you please stop —" Fletcher began, but was interrupted by a third voice. He looked around, finding no one, until he realised that the voice came from Gabriella's phone. She swore and averted her attention back to her call. Fletcher couldn't exactly tell what they talking about, mostly because the third person spoke in a different language, but he turned around still in order to give Gabriella a little more privacy.

When the call ended, Fletcher asked, "Was that your mum?

"Yeah," Gabriella grimaced, obviously uncomfortable. "She said she was going to be late."

Fletcher hummed in response. He glanced at Gabriella, who kept her head low, as if ashamed. "It's not a big deal, you know."

Gabriella scoffed. "You wouldn't get it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you, Fletcher Greenly, are like any other white boy," Gabriella stated, turning to him, eyes dark. "You don't get picked on for how you look, or what you eat, or the way you speak. No one gives a crap about who you are. Then you look at me —" She pointed to herself "—and I stick out like a sour thumb. People don't see me for my popularity or the way that I dress, they see me for being Asian. Like it's all I am. All I'll ever be."

She took a step closer, her chin up. "Look me in the eye and tell me you understand," she dared and, when Fletcher didn't, she said, "That's what I thought."

Gabriella took a step back and turned around, but before she could even leave, Fletcher suddenly said, "I think you're annoying."

She turned back. "Excuse me?"

"You're dramatic, your voice is too high pitched for my liking, and your clothes are expensive," Fletcher went on. "I don't notice you for being Asian. I notice you because you irritate the heck out of me."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better? Because you're doing a shit job at it." Then she looked at him and her eyes soften, filling themselves with curiosity and intrigue. "Why do you care, Greenly?"

"I honestly don't know," Fletcher admitted. For as long as he could remember, Fletcher Greenly never bothered with anyone, much less attempted to make them feel better, so why he suddenly cared now was beyond him. Perhaps, he was going insane. "I guess Sam and Noor are starting to rub off on me."

"Whatever." Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Can I go now?"

Without anything else left to say, Fletcher nodded.

Gabriella walked off, her footsteps getting softer and softer the farther she went, but then, all of a sudden, she stopped.

"Junko," she said.

"What?"

"My name." Gabriella looked back at Fletcher and, even though the distance, he could see the sincerity in her eyes as she stared at him. As if, right now, she trusted him. "It's Junko."

Dumbfounded, the only thing Fletcher managed to say was "Okay" and, not a moment after, he watched as Gabriella — no, Junko — Matsumoto continued to walk to the end of the hall until she was finally out of sight.