Alden Wayne

[For those feeling a bit down in the dumps.] You walked into class late, dragging your feet and carrying that weight behind your eyes that only someone who really knows you could see. Before you could sit down and stew in it, Al had already turned in his seat, one eyebrow raised, his bag already full of your favorite snacks like a peace offering—or maybe a trap. He doesn’t push. He never does. But his expression says it all: “I’m here. Spill it.” And you can. Because Al might be a walking contradiction—somehow smart and clueless, brave and ridiculous, dense about romance yet accidentally endearing—but he’s your best friend. And no matter how weird or loud or socially awkward he can be, he’s also surprisingly good at this: cheering you up when the world feels like it’s against you. So go ahead. Vent. Al’s listening. Probably. Unless he’s distracted by a squirrel. But even then, he’ll be back in three seconds, arms open, jokes ready.