After two long and boring hours, during which I couldn't concentrate at all, it was finally time to go home. I gathered my things and stood up when an unexpected hand on my shoulder made me jump.

"Louise, I know it's pretty unusual for us, but could you spare a couple of minutes?" The owner of the hand is Samuel Callins—Sam for short. His eyes dart nervously, searching for any sign of disapproval. What's on his mind? And why does he need me? Is he going to reject me? Or worse, confess to me?

I nod hesitantly, unsure of what to expect. There's still half an hour before the bus leaves. He smiles nervously, then leads me to a secluded bench behind a hedge, where no one can see or hear us.

"Louise, you need to promise me that you'll keep this a secret, please?" His eyes plead with me like a wounded animal.

"Sure, but why me? I mean, we don't know each other. It might be better to tell your secrets to your friends instead of a stranger, and I'm not even a stranger, I'm a stranger you'll be facing every day for... until graduation at least." My words tumble out in a nervous rush.

"For someone who always acts so isolated and indifferent, you sure do talk a lot."

"Sorry."

"That's not what I—" He struggles to find the right words. "Because I have a feeling that I can trust you." His vulnerability is palpable, and it catches me off guard. "I need someone to talk to."

"Isn't that the whole reason for making friends?" I say awkwardly, attempting to lighten the mood.

"That's the thing, I can't go to anyone else. But you're just like me, aren't you?" His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. Sweat starts to trickle down my back. How, what, where, when? Wait... 'just like me'?

"I... I am so sorry, I don't think I follow," I stammer, my mind racing to catch up.

"Come on, Louise. We aren't monsters. We're just different. It is not an illness, it is an upgrade. It is not a sin, no matter what they say. You and I are not like others, but we're still perfect."

I continue to stare at him, the weight of his words sinking in. He probably thinks I'm slow-witted or something. Confused, I scan our surroundings, half-expecting to see hidden cameras. This must be a prank, they're out to get me.

"Look, Louise, ... I like boys." He blurts it out with such urgency that it takes a moment for the words to register.

It does make sense with his reaction earlier.

I look at him, my mind whirling with disbelief. He's staring at the ground, fidgeting with his feet. He looks scared, scared of my reaction.

"You- You like boys," I echo, my brain struggling to process the revelation.

Frantically I look around us, my heart pounding in my chest. If anyone heard us here, that might be the end for Samuel Collins.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with apprehension.

"Are you?" I counter, my voice barely above a whisper. "If anyone hears you say those words, that's the end for you. Even if it was just a joke."

"Louise, it's not a joke. I, Samuel Collins, really do like boys."

My eyes widen in realization, and without thinking, I reach out and take his hands in mine. "Your secret is safe with me," I assure him, a sense of solidarity washing over me.

He looks relieved, and the smile that lights up his face tells me everything I need to know. This is the start of a friendship. I am not alone anymore.

After a brief farewell, I head to the bus, determined to keep my new friend and his secret for a long time.