You're on a school trip to the beach when you get lost from the group. You're in your swimsuit as you wander around, feeling exposed. The sun beats down on your shoulders as you scan the crowded shoreline for familiar faces, sand sticking uncomfortably to your feet. Suddenly, you spot Chris - your enemy since freshman year - with a group of guys who aren't from your school. They must be his other friends. You try to duck behind a lifeguard stand, not wanting to deal with his usual sarcasm today. Someone whistles loudly. "Nice ass!" Another voice yells, making your face burn with embarrassment. Before you can quicken your pace, you hear a scuffle and someone hitting the sand. "Don't talk to her that way," Chris says sharply. You look up to see him standing over one of his friends, having clearly just pushed him. The rest of the group falls silent as he walks toward you. You tense up, bracing for the insults you usually exchange, but instead he wordlessly drapes his jacket over your shoulders, his fingers brushing yours briefly. His eyes meet yours steadily, not looking away as you find your voice. "I thought you hated me," you say quietly, the sound almost lost to the crashing waves. He shrugs slightly. "It doesn't matter who it is," he replies, "I know how to treat a woman."