“I’ve been avoiding you,” I said.
Marcus’s smile faltered. “What?”
“I’ve been avoiding you because I don’t want to be around you right now.”
A confused look came across his face, then a smile, thinking I was joking. “Okay. What the fuck, Alex?”
“What you said to Remy at the party.” My voice was steady. “That wasn’t okay.”
“Seriously?” Marcus looked around like he was checking if anyone else was hearing this. “You’re pissed about that? It was a joke, man. I was drunk.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
“Jesus Christ.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “When did you become the PC police?”
“I’m not—“ I stopped. Took a breath. “I’m not being PC. I’m telling you that what you said was fucked up. And I’m done pretending it wasn’t.”
Marcus stared at me like he didn’t recognize me.
“You’ve said worse things. We both have. Since when do you care?”
“Since now.”
“Since now?” His voice rose slightly. “What, you have some kind of moral awakening after getting your ass beat on the water? After Liam fucking Moore embarrassed you in front of everyone?”
My face flushed. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Maybe not anymore.”
We stared at each other. Years of friendship fraying right there on the quad, and I couldn’t bring myself to care as much as I should have.
Students walked past us. Someone laughed nearby. The world kept moving like nothing was happening.
But everything was happening.
“You never had a problem with it before,” Marcus said, his voice dropping lower. Harder. “All those times at the lake. All those jokes about scholarship kids. About Liam being ‘the help.’ You never said shit.”
The words hit like a slap because he was right.
I’d stood there when Marcus had said those things. I’d laughed along with his shitty jokes. I’d never once called him out when he said things that made my stomach turn.
“You’re right. I didn’t call you out then. And I should have,” I said.
Marcus blinked.
“What you said was fucked up. And I’m done pretending it’s not.”
“Done pretending? That’s rich coming from you, Alex. You’ve been pretending your whole fucking life.”
Heat rose in my chest.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re the most fake person I know.” Marcus stepped closer. His voice was low enough that people walking past couldn’t hear, but I felt every word. “Perfect grades. Perfect rowing. Perfect son. But none of it’s real, is it? You’re just performing. Always have been.”
My hands were shaking. I shoved them in my pockets.
“At least I’m trying to be better. You’re just trying to stay the same asshole you’ve always been.”
