Elijah didn't mean to overhear it.
He was heading to the counselor's office, Miss Avery had asked for a quick check-in about his recent missed assignments. But as he rounded the corner, he froze.
"…She's been coming for a while now," Miss Avery was saying gently. "Progress is slow, but that's expected with family pressure."
Elijah paused, heart thudding. The door was slightly ajar. And inside…
Brielle.
Sitting on the couch, her back straight, arms crossed like she was trying to hold herself together. Her voice, low and brittle:
"I'm not weak. I'm just… tired of pretending I'm fine."
Something in Elijah cracked.
He backed away before they noticed him, the words ringing in his ears. He'd never heard Brielle sound like that. Raw. Exposed. And suddenly, the walls she built around herself made sense.
At lunch, he sat across from her like usual, trying to act normal.
"You good?" she asked, nibbling at her food.
He nodded. "Yeah. Just thinking."
She narrowed her eyes. "You've been 'just thinking' a lot lately."
Elijah forced a weak smile, but his mind was spinning. Then...
"Did you hear?" a sharp voice from another table. "Brielle Kingsley's in therapy. Guess money doesn't fix everything."
A few scattered laughs followed.
Then something happened that stunned the entire cafeteria.
Elijah stood.
Not slowly. Not subtly.
He pushed back his chair with a loud screech and marched straight to the table where the voice had come from. The room stilled.
Everyone turned. Even the cafeteria workers paused mid-move.
Elijah Carter, the quiet one. The composed one. The boy who rarely spoke unless necessary… was fuming.
He slammed his hand down on the table, the sound echoing like a slap.
"Say that again," he said, voice low and steady.
The boy blinked. "Chill, man. It's just a joke..."
"Say it again." His tone sharpened. A warning.
Whispers erupted like a spark hitting dry grass.
"What's going on?"
"Is that Elijah?"
"Why is he...?"
"Over therapy?"
But Elijah didn't flinch. His jaw clenched, his eyes burning holes into the guy.
"Grow the hell up," he said coldly. "And keep her name out of your mouth."
The silence after that was deafening.
Then the whispers came louder, spreading like wildfire.
Brielle stared at him, eyes wide. "What the hell was that?"
He turned to her. "I wasn't gonna sit there and let them..."
"You just put a target on me," she said under her breath, rising to her feet. Her face was pale, guarded. Hurt. "You think you helped?"
"Brielle..."
"Don't." Her voice cracked, but she turned quickly before it could show. "Don't make me out to be someone who needs saving."
She stormed out. Elijah didn't follow.
Not right away.
Later that day, he sat in his room, phone untouched beside him.
Grace knocked gently before stepping in. "You okay?"
Elijah sighed. "No. I think I made things worse."
She sat beside him, quiet for a moment. "Sometimes people don't want to be saved. They just want someone to stand with them while they fight."
He looked up at her, eyes tired. "What if she pushes me away again?"
Grace smiled softly. "Then stand a little closer."