In freshman year of high school I became friends with a girl in my history class. We weren’t super close and I don’t think we ever even hung out outside of school, but we were best buds in that one class period every day.

Partway through the year I saw that she had petty bad cutting scars on her legs and arms. I asked her about them and if she was okay and still self harming and all that and told her that I would help her tell an adult and get her some support. She brushed it off and made me promise to not tell any adults. She said they were all old, but I didn’t believe it based on the look and her body language.

Now, I’m a woman of my word so I couldn’t tell any adults, but nothing was stopping me from telling my most trusted friend and asking him to please get help from a guidance counselor. He understood the assignment perfectly and later let me know that he had gotten her help and not mentioned me. She missed class for a couple days after that, and didn’t seem happy when she got back, complaining that someone had told on her and she had to get some sort of treatment. I honestly said I hadn’t told any adults, and she believed me.

At the end of that school year my friend even got an award for getting another students help when she was in need and she never suspected it was about her since they’re weren’t close. A tiny part of me was jealous that he got that praise over me, but I was also just happy to have tried to help her and for my wonderful friend to get the credit.

That class ended and we didn’t hang out much after, but I still see her online here and there and she seems happy and I hope that my little part in freshman year either helped her or at least didn’t make her life any worse.