I was never good at maths. No matter how much I studied I just couldn’t reach far enough for me to be in the top tier. I was never good at English either and let’s not even talk about the sciences, let’s just say there is a burn mark on the ceiling with my name on it.

However, the one thing I was content with was art. It’s not that I was amazing, but I would say I was good enough to be proud to show off my projects. Now you may ask what I painted, well they generally ranged from the usual bowls of fruit to flowers, as well as the human subject every now and then.

It’s safe to say thanks to these traits I never really liked school, I’d spend most classes doodling on my notes and dropping in and out of what the teacher said, not a good idea I know. But when I wasn’t spaced out drawing random pictures, I was enamoured by the shining brilliance which sat on the front row, a boy name Hoya.

‘Grow up guys.’

‘We were just joking.’ Said one of the guys standing over me, his voice guilty for he knew what he’d done.

‘C’mon, does it look like she’s having fun? You guys are quickly becoming textbook bullies.’ Replied Hoya, his words were a warning but his expression was a soft smile. ‘You ok?’ he asked lifting me up from the ground, ‘sorry my friends are so immature, I’ll be sure to keep them occupied in the future haha.’

I could only nod and mumble a quiet ‘thank you’ before he began leading his friends away. And that was how Hoya stopped the boys bullying me in my first year of high school and my first and so far only interaction with him.

If I had to describe Hoya in a single phrase I would have to say that ‘there is nothing wrong with him’. He isn’t perfect by any means but he seemed t