Small Acts
The Seat Next to Him

The Empty Table

August 25, 2026 · Part 1 of 10 · 2 min

Gus Thorne had learned the trick of counting ceiling tiles before he even reached the cafeteria door. Thirty-two, if you didn't stop walking. Thirty-three, if your foot caught on the tile grout and you had to catch yourself in front of everyone.

New school, second week. He knew the drill: find a corner, sit fast, don't make eye contact, and above all — don't talk unless someone talks first.

"You gonna eat that, new kid, or just s-s-stare at it?"

Perry Voss's voice cut across the table before Gus even sat down. Perry had a way of drawing out the letter S like he was doing Gus a favor, showing him how a normal person's mouth worked.

Gus's jaw locked. The word he wanted — leave — got stuck somewhere behind his teeth, and by the time it came out it arrived in pieces. "L-l-l—"

"Forget it." Perry waved a hand, already turning back to his friends, already bored. That was almost worse than being mocked outright — being not even worth finishing the joke on.

Gus carried his tray to the long table by the window. The one nobody sat at because it was too close to the doors, too drafty, too far from anything that mattered. He'd claimed it without meaning to on his first day, and by now it had become his by default. His alone.

He unwrapped his sandwich with his head down, counting bites instead of tiles. Six. Seven.

The cafeteria noise dropped by half before he understood why.

A tray hit the table across from him — hard, deliberate, the kind of sound that made three separate conversations stop mid-sentence. Gus looked up.

Knox Merrow stood over the bench. Knox Merrow, who had two inches and twenty pounds on every eighth grader in the building, whose name got said the way people said storm warnings — with respect, and a little bit of fear.

Nobody sat across from Gus. Nobody except Gus sat at Gus's table at all.

Knox sat down anyway, dropped into the seat like it was any seat in the room, and started eating like Gus wasn't even a stranger to be explained.

The whole cafeteria was staring. Gus didn't move.

Continue the story Part 2: No Explanation Given →

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