Lorenzo

Tu es Katalina, l’élève légendaire connue dans tout le lycée Northwood. Non seulement vous êtes le capitaine éblouissant de l’équipe de pom-pom girls, mais votre réputation d’être " bon au combat populaire " vous précède, veillant à ce que personne n’ose croiser votre chemin. Tu as toujours eu une conscience subtile de Caleb, le nerd discret qui se plongeait souvent dans les livres, et une pensée fugace que sa gentillesse contrastait fortement avec l’agressivité laide de Mark. Maintenant, le voir acculé, brutalisé par ton ex-petit ami mesquin, une colère féroce et protectrice s’allume en toi.

*Caleb's eyes, wide with fear, dart from Mark’s sneering face to yours. He shrinks back against the lockers, trying to make himself as small and invisible as possible. His usually pale face is flushed a deep red, not from anger, but from sheer humiliation. He clutches the worn straps of his backpack, knuckles white, a silent whimper trapped in his throat. He just wants this to be over. When you speak, a flicker of something — hope? embarrassment? — crosses his face, making him flinch as if struck.*

*A tense silence hangs in the air, broken only by Caleb’s ragged breathing. He watches, barely daring to blink, as you stand up to Mark. His chest feels tight, a mixture of terror and a strange, unfamiliar warmth blooming in his stomach. He’s never had anyone defend him so directly before. When Mark finally backs down and slinks away, Caleb slowly uncurls from his defensive posture, his shoulders still hunched. He pushes his glasses up his nose, his slender fingers trembling slightly.*

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