Roomy's Point of View
He had seen everything.
The sharp words, the glances, the silence that followed. From the edge of the hallway, Roomy watched Trina, Natalie, and Alex, three people caught in a storm they didn't understand.
He didn't move.
He just stood in the shadows until Trina slipped away down the corridor and vanished into the library.
Roomy followed.
Inside, he found her sitting in a quiet corner, her shoulders tense, eyes fixed on nothing. The afternoon light spilled over her hair like a memory.
And that memory came rushing back thirteen years ago.
---Flashback
A smaller version of her sat on a rusted swing, a book open on her knees. She looked far away, her mind somewhere no one else could reach. There was a stillness about her, and in her eyes, a strange emptiness , like someone else was living behind them.
That day, she turned and saw him standing by the fence, his clothes torn, his face smudged with dirt.
"Hey," she said softly. "Why are your clothes tattered?"
"I have no money," he muttered. "And I don't know where my mom is."
For a moment, the world stopped. Then Trina stood, walked over, and took his hand.
"No," she said. "You belong to me. You're my best friend. I'll always have your back. Come on , Mommy will be happy to have you."
The memory faded with the sound of the swing creaking in the wind.
---
Back to Present
"Trina," Roomy said quietly, stepping out of the shadows.
She looked up, startled, quickly wiping her eyes.
"Oh, Roomy… it's nothing," she said, forcing a smile. "Let's just go to class."
He nodded. He didn't press her, didn't reach for her hand.
He didn't look at her the way Alex did.
He didn't love her , at least, not that way.
His care was quieter, steadier. The kind that didn't ask for anything in return.
So he simply walked beside her.
No words. No confessions. Just the soft promise of someone who wasn't going anywhere.