The next morning at school moved with the same familiar rhythm, bells ringing, footsteps echoing through the corridors, voices overlapping in careless chatter. When Merlee walked into the compound, a few heads turned, eyes lingering briefly on the bruises along his jaw and the faint cut on his lip. No one made a big deal out of it, because they were used to seeing him like that. Scrapes and marks followed his name the same way rumors did, and most students had long stopped asking questions.
During break, he sat alone on the low concrete steps near the field, staring absently at the crowd moving past him. He felt sore all over, each movement reminding him of the night before, but he ignored it, stretching his legs out and resting his elbows on his knees like nothing was wrong.
"Hey," a voice said cautiously.
Merlee looked up to see a boy standing a few steps away, hands clasped together as if unsure whether to come closer. He recognized him almost immediately, not by his face alone but by the nervous energy that clung to him. It was the boy from yesterday. Cleaned up now, his eyes still carried a trace of fear that had not yet faded.
"You're Merlee, right?" the boy asked.
Merlee nodded slowly. "Yeah."
The boy took a breath, then stepped forward. "I didn't know you went to this school. I didn't even know you were a student here."
Merlee frowned slightly. "I didn't know you were either."
The boy gave a small, awkward smile. "Well I just got enrolled here not long ago, I usually keep to myself." He hesitated, then added, "My name's Adrian."
There was a pause, heavy with things neither of them quite knew how to say. Finally, Adrian spoke again, his voice low but sincere. "I wanted to thank you. Properly. What you did yesterday… you didn't have to do that. You could have just left like everyone else."
Merlee shrugged, looking away. "Anyone would have done it."
Adrian shook his head firmly. "No. They wouldn't have." He swallowed, his fingers tightening together. "You saved me. If you hadn't stopped, I don't know what would have happened."
Merlee said nothing, his gaze drifting back to the school buildings, uncomfortable with the weight of the gratitude being placed on him.
After a moment, Adrian continued, trying to sound casual. "I wanted to invite you over sometime. For lunch, or dinner. My family would like to meet you."
Merlee turned back to him, surprised. "Your family?"
"Yes," Adrian said, straightening a little. "My dad is a politician. You probably know his name. He's… well, people say we're well off."
Merlee let out a quiet breath, more amused than impressed. "You don't owe me anything," he said. "And I'm not really the visiting type."
"I know," Adrian replied quickly. "This isn't about owing you. I just… I want to say thank you in a way that actually means something."
Merlee studied him for a second, seeing the sincerity there, the same fear that had been in his eyes yesterday now mixed with relief and quiet resolve. He nodded once, slowly. "We'll see," he said.
Adrian smiled, a real one this time, relief washing over his face. "Okay. That's enough for me."
The bell rang and students began drifting back to their classes, Merlee watched Adrian walk away, a strange thought settling in his mind. He had stepped into a fight without thinking, and somehow it had followed him into a place he never expected.
After school they met by the gate just as the compound was emptying out, the noise of the day slowly dissolving into scattered laughter and footsteps heading in different directions. Merlee stood beside his bike, one foot resting on the curb, while Adrian approached with his bag slung over one shoulder, glancing around like he still half expected trouble to come looking for him.
"So," Merlee said as Adrian stopped in front of him, "you said your place isn't far."
Adrian nodded. "It's about fifteen minutes from here. I'll tell you where to turn."
Merlee mounted the bike and gestured for him to get on. Adrian hesitated only briefly before hopping onto the seat behind him, gripping the sides lightly as the bike lurched forward and settled into motion.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The wind filled the silence, carrying with it the smell of dust and fumes. Eventually, Merlee broke it, his voice calm but direct.
"Yesterday," he said, eyes fixed on the road ahead, "they called you gay. Is that actually true?"
There was a pause behind him, long enough that Merlee wondered if he had crossed a line. Then Adrian spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "Yes. It is."
Merlee nodded once, more to himself than anything else. "Okay."
Adrian seemed to relax a little, as if he had been bracing for something worse. "Most people don't say okay," he added.
"They don't have to," Merlee replied simply.
They rode on for another stretch before Merlee spoke again. "How did you even end up with those guys? They didn't look like the type you'd just run into by accident."
Adrian's hands tightened slightly at his sides. "I didn't," he said. "One of them messaged me first. He pretended to be like me. Said he understood. We talked for weeks."
Merlee's jaw clenched.
"He asked to meet," Adrian continued, his voice steady but distant, like he was recounting something that still did not feel real. "Said he was tired of hiding. I believed him. When I got there, the others were already waiting. I didn't even have time to run before they started."
The engine's sound seemed louder after that, swallowing the weight of his words. Merlee felt something dark coil tighter in his chest, a slow controlled anger that did not flare but burned steadily instead.
"They planned it," Merlee said quietly.
"Yes," Adrian replied. "They wanted to make an example out of me."
Merlee took a sharp turn at the next junction as Adrian directed him, the bike leaning smoothly before straightening again. "People like that," Merlee said after a moment, "they don't stop on their own."
Adrian did not answer right away. "That's why I was sure I was done for," he said finally. "Until you showed up."
Merlee said nothing after that. He focused on the road, on the turns Adrian pointed out, on the steady rhythm of the bike beneath him, while his mind replayed faces, voices, and words he had no intention of forgetting.