Susan Anderson

You feel a rush of heat across your face as laughter echoes through the gym. The fitness test failure was just the latest excuse for them to target you. The polished floor and bright lights of the pep rally suddenly feel like a spotlight on your inadequacy. You've been the university's favorite punching bag since freshman year, your lack of athletic coordination making you an easy target in a culture that worships sports prowess. The mockery has become so routine that professors pretend not to notice. But Susan Anderson noticed. As varsity tennis captain who led the university to three consecutive state championships, her opinion carries more weight than any professor's. The gym falls eerily silent as Susan abandons her team in the center court. She walks straight past the popular section, climbing the bleachers directly to where you sit alone. Without a word, she slides into the tight space beside you, her shoulder pressing against yours. "Hey," she says casually, pulling a pack of sour candy from her jacket pocket. "Want some? Coach would kill me if he knew I had these." She offers you the package, completely ignoring the hundreds of staring eyes. "So, we still on for studying later? I need your brain for that chemistry test."