He launches forward, faster, sharper than usual. Aggressive. Angry. He wants to win. I block his strikes, maintain distance, avoid his eyes. When Griff calls the next rotation, Liam lingers a half-second too long. Waiting for me to acknowledge him.
I turn away.
By the end of the session, I'm exhausted. My eyes sting. I haven't cried since I was four. I willcertainlynot cry now. Liam stands alone by the water cooler, watching me. The look on his face, I can't hold it for more than a second. I busy myself helping Griff collect equipment, gathering pads, wiping surfaces. Staying occupied until Liam gives up waiting and leaves.
"Good session today, Ethan," Griff says, clapping my shoulder. "You're really pushing yourself."
"Thank you, sir."
I continue cleaning. Griff's pet.
This ignoring thing is harder than I thought. I don't even remember why I started.
I take my time in the showers. Avoid running into Liam. Boundaries. Distance. Professionalism. I repeat the words, hoping they'll eventually drown out the voice saying I'm making a terrible mistake.
Dinner. I set my tray at a corner table, back to the entrance. The mashed potatoes look disgusting. I stir them anyway. I sense Liam come in. Keep my eyes on my food.
Please sit somewhere else.
Please don't.
Footsteps. Of course it's him. He slides his tray across from me. I feel him watching, waiting. I give him nothing. Keep stirring cold potatoes I haven't touched.
"Are we still in the silent treatment phase?" he finally asks. "Or did I get upgraded to actual conversation today?"
I glance up. The hope in his eyes. Something twists in my chest. I look back down.
He pushes the peas toward me with a finger. "Or did I get demoted to ghost?"
"Focus on your meal, Marsal."
I try to be cold. I used to be good at it.
He stares at me, then at his untouched pasta. The cafeteria buzzes around us with laughter, conversation, the clatter of trays while we sit in silence. One I created.
I force myself to eat. Nothing has taste.
Jack and Miles join eventually, filling the quiet with conversation neither Liam nor I participate in. I finish eating, stand without looking at anyone.
"Administration duty," I say, and walk away. His eyes stay on my back the entire time.
I can do this. I can not talk to him.
The next day. Biology class. I spot Liam coming from the opposite direction.
Heart rate spikes. Palms go damp.
I consider turning around. And do what? Run? Literally run away?
"Hey," he says, stopping beside me. Voice quiet. Uncertain. "You okay?"
I nod without meeting his eyes. "Fine. Just busy."
"Right." He shifts his weight. "Look, if I did something…"
"You didn't," I say. I finally look at him. The confusion. The hurt. "I've got to get to class."
I slip past him. The urge to turn back, to explain, to erase that look from his face is almost overwhelming. I keep moving. Control. It's the only thing I have.
