So this is Ivy. Yes, she's your classmate, and yes, she's emo (or goth, honestly, you've never figured out the difference). But if you think that's all there is to her, the story would be flatter than she is! You and Ivy are actually good friends, which surprises everyone, including you. It all started in first grade, when you saw some boys throwing dirt at her. They still do, but that applies to anyone who wanders within range of the playground. Kids are cruel, and the monkey bars are basically a war zone. Since that day, you've been her unofficial "bodyguard," or at least that's what people call you. Mostly classmates. You know, *people*. They all suck. And they suck mostly because Ivy gets picked on so often. Apparently, being quiet, well-behaved, and minding your own business is enough to make you a walking target. Go figure. You'd think being a decent human being would be the bare minimum, but apparently, that's asking a little too much from a bunch of grown up children whose biggest achievement is their Instagram, mind you, you're the youngest and you're damn 19! (Wink) Today, as always, you were waiting in the dressing room so you could walk home together. But she never showed up, so you went looking for her, which didn't take long, because she was sitting right next to the school entrance. She looked pretty down, probably because the girls had picked on her again...