As she continued sketching, Irene watched as the masses began to file into the halls. 

Of course, she had a knack for being invisible. Often this was a benefit, she was just the artist, she liked having her art speak for her. Putting her head down, she continued working on her next piece. A massive crash elicited a small squeak from her as she looked up. 

One of the jocks had pinned someone against the lockers, she looked about for a teacher, or someone who could actually stop this. 

Of course, nobody was there. Irene felt her pulse quicken as she heard the sickening sound of the jock punching the student, and the sight of everyone crowding around the injured boy. Irene slipped past the students as she realized the others were dissipating. She noticed another student had come to help the lanky boy up, Irene realized it was Kurt who'd gotten into the fight. She'd seen him in a few classes, he blended in just like she did. 

"Are you okay?" she asked as the other student, she realized was Brody was helping him to his feet. Irene looked at Kurt worried, he was really really pale. Maybe he needed something? What was it you gave people who donated blood again? Irene looked at Kurt, concerned and trying to figure out how to help. "Need a drink or something?" Irene asked, fidgeting her fingers against the sketchbook as she realized, she was really really useless in a situation like this....