"Crybaby, crybaby, go run home to your momma! Now turn into a hairy little monster…"
The chant bounced around the playground, shrill and careless, as a circle of boys ran around a girl sitting on the ground. She cried openly, her shoulders shaking, her hands knotted into the dirt. The words they shouted sounded like something picked up from an older sibling or a TV show, half-remembered and fully cruel, the kind of nonsense rhyme children used because they didn't yet understand how sharp it could cut.
The sun was low behind them, throwing long shadows across the pavement.
It was that age. Old enough to act with malice, young enough not to feel the weight of it. Children could be vicious simply because it felt amusing, and kind simply because someone told them it was right.
"Knock it off."
A boy shoved his way into the circle, pushing one of the others back with more force than he meant to use. He planted himself in front of the crying girl, arms spread wide, his back straight even though his knees trembled.
"You've got a whole group picking on one girl," he said, his voice thin but stubborn. "What kind of tough guys does that make you?"
The boy who'd been pushed, a freckled kid named Tyler, scoffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve. "She's just a crybaby. What's wrong with messing with her a little? What, Noah, you like her or something? You're a crybaby too."
"That's better than bullying girls," Noah shot back. "You're all jerks. You're not allowed to mess with Lila."
Another boy, bigger than the rest, stepped forward. His name was Marcus, and he knew exactly how much his size mattered here.
"Crybaby," Marcus taunted. "Noah, why don't you cry for us too? If you cry, we'll leave her alone."
Behind him, Lila clutched the back of his shirt. Her sobs had quieted to tiny, terrified hiccups. She was shaking so hard he could feel it through the thin fabric.
Noah squeezed his eyes shut.
He was scared. His stomach hurt. His hands were damp with sweat. But he didn't move. He stood there with his arms out, bracing himself for whatever came next.
To Noah, this was simply what you did. His parents had told him to look out for Lila, to protect her, and he had taken that promise seriously in the simple, absolute way children did. He believed responsibility meant standing still, no matter how afraid you were.
The words "you like her" landed hard for Lila. They echoed in her mind, blooming into something confusing and loud.
For Noah, they passed like a breeze. Whether because it felt obvious, or because it didn't matter to him at all, he couldn't have said.
"What do you think you're doing?"
The voice cut through the scene like ice.
Noah's eyes opened.
The boys froze and turned as one.
A difference of a year or two felt enormous at that age, like a gap you couldn't cross. The girl standing there wore a high school uniform, her posture straight, her expression flat and cold. To them, she looked impossibly tall, impossibly grown.
Evelyn stared down at them, her gaze sharp enough to make their skin prickle.
Marcus swallowed. Tyler's legs began to shake. After a second that stretched too long, Marcus muttered, "We were just—"
"Run," he shouted suddenly, panic breaking through.
He bolted without waiting to see if the others followed. The rest scattered in every direction, sneakers slapping against pavement as they fled.
The playground emptied quickly.
Only Noah remained, still standing there, and Lila crouched behind him, trembling.
"Sis," Noah breathed.
"Let's go home," Evelyn said. She crouched down in front of him and brushed his cheek with her fingers, her touch careful, grounding. "Next time, get an adult first. Don't get yourself hurt."
—
Morning light crept across the windowsill, pale and gentle. White curtains lifted and fell with the breeze, and Noah woke slowly, his head pounding in a way that felt both familiar and unpleasant.
He groaned softly and rubbed his temples.
The room around him came into focus, and recognition settled in. He turned his head and saw a small desk by the window, and beside it the slender silhouette of a woman with long hair falling down her back.
"Sis?" he said, his voice rough.
She didn't turn. "You're awake," Evelyn said calmly. "There's tea and breakfast on the table. Go wash up first, then come eat."
"Okay."
He had only been to Evelyn's faculty dorm room a couple of times, but it felt familiar enough. Once, he'd walked Lila back to her dorm late at night, only to find the men's building locked when he returned. With nowhere else to go, he'd messaged Evelyn.
She had come to get him in her pajamas, not a trace of annoyance on her face. She'd reminded him gently to watch the time next time, her concern outweighing any irritation.
Evelyn had always been like that.
No matter what happened, she never scolded him. She asked if he was cold, if he'd eaten, if he was tired. She gave advice without prying, support without control, and somehow always managed to catch him when he stumbled.
He owed her a proper thank-you. He always had.
Cold water splashed against his face, jolting him fully awake. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, taking in the handsome but disheveled lines of his face, and the memories of the night before came rushing back.
The breakup.
He had finally said it. The words he'd been carrying for so long. He didn't know how he would explain it to his mother, or to Lila's parents. He knew the fallout could be ugly.
But he didn't regret it.
Some things were better said quickly than dragged out forever.
When he returned to the room, Evelyn had pulled another chair over and closed the notebook she'd been working on. She gestured for him to sit.
"Sis… what's up?"
"Eat," she said, pointing to a plastic bag on the table, steam still curling faintly from inside. "Then tell me what happened between you and Lila."
"It's not a big deal," Noah said instinctively.
He sat down anyway, obediently unwrapping one of the buns and taking a bite as he began to explain. He didn't try to hide anything. There was no point, and no need. Evelyn and his mother were the two people he trusted more than anyone.
Evelyn listened quietly, her expression unreadable.
"She agreed," Noah finished. "She was angry. Said she dumped me. Our families don't know yet. Sis, don't tell Mom."
Evelyn crossed one leg over the other and rested her head on her hand, studying him. "And you? How do you feel about it?"
"I don't regret it," he said after a moment. "Being with her was exhausting. Do you think I did something wrong?"
"This is your choice," Evelyn said. "No one has the right to force you to stay with someone. If you're tired, you break up. There's nothing wrong with that."
She reached out and ruffled his hair, smiling gently. "You don't owe your life to anyone else's expectations."
"But Mom and Lila's parents really wanted us together," he said. "I don't know how to explain it to them."
"I'll help," Evelyn replied without hesitation. "They'll understand. And no matter what, I'm on your side."
She paused briefly, then added, "I don't want you spending your life with someone you don't love, bending yourself out of shape just to please others."
"Thanks, Sis."
Noah nodded firmly. As always, her words cleared the fog in his mind, guiding him out of the knot he'd tied himself into. Perhaps it was her background in psychology, or perhaps it was simply who she was.
Evelyn had always excelled academically, from elementary school all the way through college. She'd stayed on after graduation, becoming both a calculus lecturer and a student counselor at Rowan University.
Rowan was one of the top schools in the country. Noah and Lila had scraped their way in with strong high school scores and no small amount of luck.
"Oh," Noah said suddenly. "What time is it? I might be late for work."
"You already are," Evelyn said, lifting her phone so he could see the time. "Half an hour late. They messaged you earlier. I asked for a half-day off for you. Go in at noon."
"Thank god," Noah exhaled.
"Now then," Evelyn continued, her tone shifting. "How do you feel physically? Any nausea?"
"I'm fine. Much better."
"In that case," she said coolly, reaching out and grabbing his cheeks, tugging them hard enough to hurt, "let's talk about you getting blackout drunk."
"Sis, that hurts!"
"So you know what pain feels like," she snapped. "Running off alone to drink until you collapse. Do you even know how to drink? You know your stomach's weak. What if something happened to you?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Noah said quickly. "I won't do it again."
"You'd better not," Evelyn warned. "Next time you don't listen, I'll spank you like I did when you were little."
Noah laughed weakly. Evelyn was just as she'd always been, attentive and thorough, her concern wrapping around him so naturally he rarely questioned it.
If not for that night, he might never have doubted where that care came from, or wondered whether the tenderness she showed him afterward was born of something else entirely.