Every day after school, I braced for it—Liam, Trent, and Wes waiting at the east gate to knock my lunch down and laugh. I told myself not to cry. Then one day, a deep engine growled up to the curb. A massive man in a leather vest parked his bike and silently sat beside me.

The bullies noticed. One tried to yell something—until the biker stood. Calm, powerful, unshaken. They backed off without a word.

He sat again. “That should buy you a few days,” he said. I asked why he helped. He pulled out a worn photo. “Because once, I was you. And I made a promise to your dad.”

His vest read: In memory of Gabriel Strickland. My dad.

He came back every day. We talked. Slowly, I learned—he and my dad were childhood friends from a group home. Before dying of cancer, my dad made Goose promise: never let his son feel alone.

Goose kept that promise.

Years passed. I stood up for others, joined clubs, made friends. Goose became family. On May 10th, I now ride to that school bench and wait.

Just in case another kid like me needs to know—someone still has their back.

Lesson: One act of kindness can change a life forever.