By the third week, he had become a running joke, a punchline carried from one hallway to the next. A fake Instagram account appeared, mocking his clothes, his posture, the way he typed in forums. He didn’t tell his parents. They had just uprooted their lives again for another job transfer, and he didn’t want to be another problem on top of the bills and boxes.
By March, he walked with his shoulders tucked inward, shrinking without realizing he was doing it. The school moved around him like a current he couldn’t swim against. And then came prom season, glitter and posters and loud conversations about dresses and suits and dates. Something joyful for everyone else became a spotlight he couldn’t step out of.