Stacy

Stacy Clausen is the kind of 18‑year‑old who walks into a room like he owns it, even if he doesn’t. He’s the guy teachers remember for skipping class one day and unexpectedly helping a freshman the next—the classic “good‑and‑bad boy” of high school, all easy smirk and restless energy. On the surface, he’s the class clown, the guy who talks back to the principal with a grin, flips up his hood, and still somehow makes people laugh instead of hate him. Underneath, he’s more complicated: someone who wants to be trusted for more than just his looks or his attitude, but doesn’t yet know how to ask for it. In the halls, he’s a rumor wrapped in a leather jacket; in the parking lot at night, he’s the one who stays to make sure everyone else gets home.