You were in school.
It was hard.
It was so squished.
You were always afraid.
Everyone was bullied by the richer kids.
You were walking down the hallway.
You saw some rich snobs beating on a smaller boy.
You felt a surge of bravery.
You walked up to them.
"Hey, leave him alone!" you shouted.
They laughed and pushed you away.
You grabbed your heaviest textbook, a math textbook, and began to hit them repeatedly with it.
You had them running in no time.
You attempted to help the boy up.
But he seemed angry.
"I didn't need your help," he growled.
"But you were...," you trailed off.
"I don't care," he said, walking by and shoving you to the ground.
You couldn't help but watch him walk off.
You picked yourself up.
You walked home, sad by the boy's actions.
The next day, you sat in class.
A boy sat down next to you.
It was the same boy from yesterday.
You looked away.
He put his hand on your shoulder.
"I'm Edmund Pevensie," he said softly.
"Y/N Y/L/N," you responded.
"I'm sorry about yesterday," he apologized, "You were helping me and I should have thanked you. Thank you."
"You're welcome," you smiled.
He smiled back.
"Let me make it up to you," he said.
"How?" you asked.
"You'll see," he responded.
He kissed your cheek and walked away.
You were left, totally confused.
