The cafeteria roared with its usual chaos, but Veronica moved through it like she was parting the Red Sea. Thomas followed half a step behind, trying not to look as overwhelmed as he felt.

  At the corner table, a dozen faces lit up at once.

  Jonathan was already half-standing. “No way. Veronica, you traitor—you didn’t tell us he transferred here!”

  “I didn’t know until yesterday,” she shot back, sliding into an empty seat and patting the one beside her. “Sit, Thomas. Before the freshmen smell fresh meat.”

  Thomas sat, suddenly surrounded by easy smiles and curious eyes.

  Jonathan dropped back into his chair with a grin. “Welcome to the circus. Most of us have been stuck together since youth group days—basically since we had training wheels on our bikes.”

  Thomas glanced around the table. “That’s what I was wondering. What were you all doing at the center the other day?”

  “Service hours,” a girl with braids answered. “But the good kind. Not just picking up trash for a badge.”

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Jonathan leaned forward, elbows on the table. “It’s the junior track for the SBSO. They teach us actual leadership, ethics, how to run projects that matter. And yeah—we get to hang out at the big center sometimes. Perks.”

  He paused, eyes glinting. “Speaking of which… word is you’re the guest of honor at the dinner this weekend.”

  Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s what they keep telling me. Still waiting for someone to say it’s a prank.”

  Veronica bumped his shoulder. “Not a chance. And Shoshana gets back tomorrow—she’s already texting me about saving you a seat.”

  The name alone softened Thomas’s whole face. “Tell her hi for me.”

  A bell rang somewhere in the distance—warning bell for next period.

  Thomas stood, slinging his new backpack over one shoulder. “I should figure out where my next class is before I’m officially late on day one.”

  Half the table started to rise with him, but Jonathan beat them all. He didn’t quite stand—he just leaned forward, voice low and deadly serious.

  “Hey. Thomas.”

  A beat.

  “You have a place with us. Okay? Not just today. Any day.”

  The cafeteria noise seemed to fade for a second.

  Thomas looked at him—at all of them—and something tight in his chest loosened just a fraction.

  He nodded once. Slow. Real.

  “Thanks,” he said. And this time, he meant it in a way that went all the way down to the bones.

  Then Veronica was tugging him toward the door, the group calling good-natured goodbyes behind them, and Thomas walked out into the hallway feeling—for the first time in a long time—like the building might actually let him belong.