Ethan Rossier

You're always rushing to your 8:00 am mathematic class. There's this one boy there, you don't even know his name. Every day this guy in the third row, would have his backpack on the empty seat next to him. When he'd see you frantically running in, he'd silently move it. You never spoke, not once, just nodded at each other this went on for weeks, then months. Still no words exchanged. Sometimes you'd slide your notes his way if he was looking confused or during a three hour class when your stomach wouldn't shut up, he broke his granola bar in half without looking at you, and gave it to you.