hid day began with a joke.

Travis was at his locker, changing his books, when something chilly and squishy slid down the back of his hoodie. He gasped and jumped back, hearing laughter erupt behind him.

“Classic Moreno! ” one voice mocked. “Nerd alert! ”

He turned around, feeling embarrassed. A few guys were bent over with laughter, pointing at him while the ketchup packet they had crushed dripped down his shirt.

Travis felt a tight knot in his throat. He wished he could vanish, just like he usually did. He considered wiping it off, acting like it didn’t bother him, and pretending not to care. That was how he got through each day.

But before he could react, another voice broke through the laughter.

“What’s going on? ”

Jordan.

He appeared out of nowhere, grabbing one of the boys by the collar and pushing him gently against the lockers—not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to stop the laughter immediately.

“Do you think this is funny? ” Jordan’s voice was low and serious. It didn’t sound playful or arrogant; it felt dangerous.

“N-no, man, it was just—just a joke—”

Jordan’s stare was as fierce as ice. “Then let me give you one. If you touch him again, you’ll be the punchline. ”

The hallway went quiet. Everyone was watching in shock. Jordan Alvarez, the popular kid, wasn’t laughing with his friends. He was standing up for Travis Moreno.

Jordan pushed the boy away, then turned back. The tension in him softened the moment his eyes met Travis’s.

“Are you okay? ” he asked gently, almost cautiously.

Travis looked at him in silence. His heart raced, not only from embarrassment but also from the way Jordan regarded him—as if he truly mattered.

“I—I’m fine,” Travis stammered, trying to reach for his backpack to hide the stain. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” Jordan cut in, his voice calm.

The words echoed, too similar to what he had said the day before.

Travis opened his mouth, then shut it again, unable to find a response. He hated that he felt warm inside, hated that Jordan Alvarez—the charming one, the trickster, the boy who had it all—was the only one standing by him.

Jordan smiled a little, even though uncertainty flickered at the corner of it. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up. ”

Before Travis could say anything, Jordan was gently guiding him down the hall. People moved aside, whispering more loudly now. Travis caught snippets of conversations:

“Why is he helping him?

“Alvarez and Moreno? No way. ”

“Must be a prank—”

And in that moment, Travis was being led down the hall, away from the gazes, away from the murmurs.

For the first time, he started to think that perhaps… Jordan’s interest wasn’t a joke.

Travis’s stomach turned. He wished he could pull back, to run home and hide in his small apartment. But Jordan’s grip on his wrist was gentle yet firm, providing comfort.

They stepped into the restroom. The quietness felt overwhelming after the noise of the hallway.

Jordan released his grip, grabbing a handful of paper towels from the roll. “Face away,” he instructed, though his voice was unexpectedly soft.

Travis paused. “I can do it myself—”

“Travis. ” Jordan’s tone became gentler. “Please. ”

The way he pronounced Travis's name—soft, almost tender—made Travis feel weak in the knees. With some hesitation, he turned, allowing Jordan to clean the ketchup off his shirt. The boy who often acted so arrogant and careless was being… careful. He wasn’t joking. He wasn’t making fun of him.

When Jordan saw that the stains wouldn’t come out, he sighed and took off his own jacket, a shiny black designer piece that looked very expensive. He placed it over Travis’s shoulders.

“Take this. Put it on. ”

Travis’s eyes grew wide. “I—I can’t. It’ll get ruined—”

“It’s just a jacket,” Jordan replied casually. “And it looks better on you anyway. ”

Travis stood still. He couldn’t breathe, his cheeks warming up. He wanted to speak—anything at all—but the words got stuck in his throat.

Jordan’s grin changed, looking softer this time, almost shy. “There. Much better. ”

For the first time, Travis began to think that maybe… just maybe… Jordan was being genuine.