Then Liam's voice carries across the mat, louder than he intends, mid-conversation with Jack: "Ethan just loves telling people what to do. Guess that's the only thing he's actuallygood at."
The room goes quiet. Fifteen pairs of eyes swivel between us.
I don't think he meant for everyone to hear. He's focused on Jack, not performing for an audience. Just being careless with his mouth, the way he always is. But Griff heard it. His expression hardens.
"That's enough, Marsal," Griff says. Liam gets quiet. "Corner. Now."
Liam hesitates, realizing what happened. Then shrugs and walks to the corner without arguing. But the damage is done.
Griff places a hand on my shoulder. "Keep going, Ethan."
I nod, my face burning.
For the rest of the session, I push them harder than usual. I don't look at Liam. Not when he rejoins the group, not during final instructions, not when we file out. He undermined me in front of Griff. The one person whose opinion I can't afford to lose.
I avoid him for the rest of the night. Ignore his attempts to catch my eye at dinner. Pretend he's invisible during free time.
Jack, Harry, and Miles are asleep when Liam approaches my bed. I'm pretending to read by the small lamp I'm allowed to have.
"Are you seriously going to keep ignoring me? It was just a joke. I didn't mean any harm," he whispers, standing at the foot of my bed.
I turn a page without looking up. "Go to bed, Marsal."
"So we're back to last names?" He moves closer. "Come on,Farley. It was stupid."
He never uses my last name. No one does. I can't stand it. Not even Griff or the guards use it if they know me. It reminds me of my parents.
I meet his eyes. Keep my voice flat. "You meant it."
"I wasn't thinking. It slipped out."
"Not good enough. Get out of my face."
He flinches. "That's not fair."
"What's not fair is you talking shit about me in front of Griff." I close my book harder than necessary. "I trusted you."
Something crosses his face. Regret, maybe. Or surprise at the admission. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I fucked up. I was just messing around with Jack."
"Sorry doesn't fix this." I stand. I need space, he's cornering me. "Griff thinks I can't control you. That I'm too soft. Do you understand what that does to my position?"
"It was one comment," Liam hisses, following me to the space between the bunks. "You're overreacting."
"Am I?" I turn on him. "After everything I've shared with you, you choose to humiliate me? I know we weren't speaking, but this is low."
"I wasn't trying to…"
"Bullshit." Too loud. I lower my voice.
Liam's eyes narrow. "Oh, that's rich coming from you. Mr. Perfect. Always trying to prove you're not as messed up as the rest of us."
The words land. Hard.
"Is that what you think?"
"I think you try to control everything because you're scared of what happens when you can't." He says it fast, recklessly, the way he says everything, not calculated, just honest in the worst possible way. "And I think you'd rather fix me than deal with your own shit."
Silence. The room feels smaller. Jack shifts in his bunk. They're awake. All of them, probably.
