"Should I..." Robin fumbled with the handle to the classroom door under the mountain of books. "I'll open this."

Still clasping the wrapper from the lollipop Tyler gave him, Robin instinctually shoved the wrinkly paper in his pocket to get a free hand.

The move made the book tower sway and the next moment, it tumbled to the floor, bookmarks and loose pages scattering everywhere. "Sorry," Robin muttered, his cheeks burning red as students threw pitying looks while he tried in vain to gather everything.

"It's alright, Robby," Tyler assured him, using his crutches to catch some of the stray papers that were threatening to disappear forever beneath hurried feet. Perhaps he was grateful people were looking at Robin instead of him.

"I'll deal with this, just hold on for a moment." Robin felt increasingly flustered as he couldn't gather everything fast enough. He felt like he was making a really bad impression on Tyler, and for some reason, he very much wanted to make a good impression.

"I can help," Tyler assured him. A metallic clank of crutches falling to the floor followed and the next moment, one and a half jeans-clad leg sat next to Robin, stacking papers and straightening folded pages.

"You don't have to," Robin protested, worried he'd made Tyler go through the trouble of descending to the floor.

"I want to." Tyler's voice was firm and kind. He picked up a run-away pen—monogrammed with Robin's name—and handed it to him. Their hands met on opposite ends of the handle. "Just let me help you." His gaze fell to the swirly letter on the pen shaft. "Robin Erie."

His name sounded different when said by Tyler. A cadence he didn't recognize. The name didn't sound like a burden but rather a freeing breeze.

"People help me all the time these days." Tyler looked down, busying himself with unorganized papers. "It's nice for me able to help for once as well. You can help me and I can help you."

A half-smile hid under unruly curls. It made Robin's breathing regulate and the flustered feeling started to wash away. He let Tyler help him without another word of protest.

Soon every book and paper was gathered. Robin rose from the floor, picked the books up, and put them on a nearby bench. He reached a hand toward Tyler. "Thank you for helping," he said. "Do you need... help to get up?"

Tyler's hand landed in his. It gripped tightly. It felt... nice. Warm. Safe even. Only his mother had held his hand before. But that embrace had not saved Robin from anything. Instead, it had isolated him like a baby bird stuck in the nest, never allowed learn to fly on his own.

Tyler grunted a bit as he tried to rise on one leg, with Robin's assistance. The attempt was wobbly and a bit precarious but in a communal effort, they succeeded. Suddenly, Tyler stood face to face with Robin. Green eyes peered into his from only a few inches away. The busy hallway around them seemed to disappear.

Robin couldn't deny the influence Tyler's proximity had on him. A scent of vanilla and lemon reached his nostrils, reminiscent of a lemon meringue pie. Why did Tyler smell so wondrously?

Robin swallowed and looked down. His mother's words about bad influences rang in his ears. "Let me help you to the bench," he said.

Afraid of what he'd felt, Robin stepped away, once he'd helped Tyler sit down. He grabbed Tyler's crutches from where they leaned against the wall. "Here." He handed the metal implements to Ty, turning his eyes and nose away from the source of distraction. "We should get to class."

Quickly, Robin picked up the books from the bench. With his back turned, he waited for Tyler to stand up before he continued toward the classroom. This time, Robin managed to open the door without any embarrassing incidents. He counted that as a win. As Tyler passed by a wave of heat—and a hint of lemony vanilla—reached Robin. For a moment, he felt dizzy.

"Robin, here!" The call from Des brought Robin back to reality. She waved toward him from the back of the classroom, the ears on her hoodie flapping from the movement and her red braids bouncing against her shoulders.

"That's my friend," Robin explained to Tyler, who looked a bit lost as everyone's eyes turned toward him upon entering. It must be difficult to enter discreetly on crutches. "Do you want to sit with us?"

A grateful smile spread on Tyler's lips. "That would be great," he replied, eyes focused on a paper scrap on the ground that he rolled with the end of his crutch. "I don't know anyone here, since I just transferred."

Robin knew the feeling of having no one on his side all too well. He was lucky that Des had chosen the same university as him, as she was his main buffer from the scary outside world. Perhaps this knowledge had even affected her choice, as she was very protective of him.

If he could be that buffer for someone else if only for a moment, he would feel a sense of pride. Like he's finally moved from being protected to being protective.

With Tyler following along, Robin made his way toward Des. But he didn't sit down next to her, as he usually did. Instead, he took the bench in front of her, making sure that Tyler could sit next to him and didn't feel left out. Because that felt very important. Robin even pulled out the chair for Tyler and helped him figure out the crutch logistics.

"Hi, I'm Des." Being a social butterfly, Des made sure to introduce herself to the newcomer as soon as he'd sat down.

"Tyler." Ty reached his hand out to greet the redhead whirlwind behind him. Even though Des hadn't asked him about his leg, his gaze fell toward it, like he just waited for her to bring it up. "Shark attack," he blurted out with a challenging glint in his eyes. "A mean shark bit off my leg."

Des cocked her head, adopting a puzzled look. "Which kind of shark?" she asked.

"I don't know..." Tyler mumbled, probably not expecting follow-up questions. "A great white shark, I think. It didn't really introduce itself."

"Where did this happen?" Des continued her line of questioning. "Great white sharks are quite rare."

Tyler shrugged. "Around here. By the beach, I guess. It wasn't in the shopping mall."

"There hasn't been a shark attack in Canada for a hundred and fifty years though..." Des mumbled suspiciously. "Although there have been more sightings by the Atlantic coast recently. At least according to my shark tracker." She pulled out her phone to show Tyler a map with cute little shark emojis showing where sharks had been sighted during the previous months.

Robin gave Tyler a sympathetic look. He knew better himself than to argue with Des about animals, but Tyler couldn't know that this was her specialty subject. As the two people continued to bicker about sharks—although it sounded like Tyler now tried to claim he'd been attacked by a polar crocodile instead—he started to organize his pencils. Of course, he no longer deserved Tyler's attention once he had someone interesting and socially competent to talk to.

A hand on the shoulder brought Robin back to the discussion about aquatic predators. "Robby believes me, right?" Tyler looked to Robin for support, head tilted to the side and eyelashes bashing upward. He looked like an adorable kitten. It was a look that was hard to deny. Impossible even.

"I believe you," Robin replied quickly, even though he was quite sure the shark story was bogus. At least he hoped that the story Tyler told him in the elevator was the true one, as it made him feel special to be entrusted with such knowledge.

Des rolled her eyes at being abandoned by her friend of fifteen years in favor of a guy he'd known for fifteen minutes. "Whatever, Robin," she said. "Guess you know everything about sharks now."

Tyler smiled conspiratorially toward Robin from underneath blonde curls. The smile made a comfortable warmth ignite somewhere right under his ribs. Tyler was definitely an influence on him, but perhaps not a bad one. Because the sensation he caused certainly didn't feel bad.