When I was little, there was a chubby boy living next door.
His house was noisy, with his parents constantly arguing
My dad went over to confront them, saying, ‘What’s going on in your house? It’s so late, how are others supposed to sleep?”
I hid behind my dad and caught sight of the chubby boy.
His face was streaked with tears as he sobbed and wiped his eyes.
That was the first time I met him. I handed him a candy.
Because my mom always said that children wouldn’t cry after eating candy.
However, when his chubby little hand took the candy, he cried even harder.
Later, when I started primary school, I discovered he was in the same class as me.
But it seemed like none of the classmates liked him. They even gave him the nickname “Chubs.”
The nickname was cute, but he didn’t like it. He always walked home alone with his schoolbag.
One day after school, he was being bullied by kids from another class. He was cornered against the classroom wall.
He looked so pitiful.
I didn’t have time to run to the office and tell the teacher.
On my own initiative, I shouted, “Hello, Miss!” and scared the bullies away.
Chubs looked up at me, his eyes still brimming with tears.
“Are you okay?” I extended my hand to help him up.
He stuffed the snacks he was holding into my hands.
“I’m not here for your snacks. I just wanted to help you up.”
“I’m giving them to you. I want… to thank you.” He wiped away his tears with his sleeve as he spoke.
“Jason, if no one wants to be your friend, I’ll be your friend.”
