It had been a long time since I was asked that question, as if it mattered. I nodded, spitting blood onto the grass. “Yeah. You?”
He shrugged, his fist flexing open and closed. “They hit like shit.”
And for a moment — just one — I feltgrounded. I tried to smile, but my lip was split. “Thank fuck you don’t.”
Someone groaned behind us, and I turned to see the mouthy one roll onto his side. I wondered if I could kick the bastard in the ass for the shit he’d pulled tonight.
Then I saw them, the blue lights of campus security as they approached.
“Ah shit,” Noah mumbled. “Here we go.”
I looked at the crowd we’d drawn with our fight and saw far too many people with their phones up, recording. “There goes deniable plausibility,” I muttered, and Noah huffed out a laugh.
One of the idiots on the ground groaned loud enough to draw attention, but Noah ‘accidentally’ kicked him in the side to get him to shut the fuck up.
The guard stepped out of the car — older, tired-looking, with the face of a man who was used to breaking up frat boy tantrums and drunken skirmishes. “Everybody stay where you are.”
Noah and I waited and just . . .breathed.
And then reality hit hard. This was the moment everything could fall apart — the insider tips to Knox, the prescription drugs. Security reports this? That would reach the dean within the hour; Coach Sutherland probably by morning. Sports media by lunch, unless someone in the crowd had already posted it online. I just knew it was already out there.
Fuck.I could see my Draft stock go up in smoke.
“Hands where I can see them,” the security guy said, wary.
I lifted mine slowly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Noah do the same. The guy’s gaze shifted from the guys on the ground... to Noah... to me. The flicker of recognition didn’t ease my new worries.
“You boys want to tell me what happened?”
The biggest one was still on the ground, but he was already sucking in breath to speak, to spin it, to bury us...
Noah stepped forward. Not threatening — justsolid. His voice was calm, low, and factual. “They followed us out. Tried to start something. We ended it.”
The guard eyed him. “So you’re saying this was self-defense?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. No bravado. No apology. Just truth. “There are five of them and only two of us,” I added in what I hoped was my most reasonable voice.
The guard’s eyes slid to me, and in that second, I realized that he wasn’t deciding what happened; he was deciding who it was easier to believe. I didn’t look away.
“It didn’t need to go this far,” I said. “But I’m not letting someone take a swing at me or my friend.”
The guard exhaled heavily, as if he didn’t want to do tonight’s paperwork. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said. “You two are going to leave. Right now. Both of you. I’ll question these guys and hear what they’ve got to say.”
You could hear a pin drop, and then Noah nodded once — respectful, almost. He nudged my arm, and we turned to go. Behind me, one of the guys on the ground spat, “Cowards.”
I didn’t turn around, but Noah did.
He didn’t hit him. He didn’t even touch him. He just looked down at him — quiet and deliberate. “If you ever come at me or him with a bottle in your hand again,” Noah said, his voice soft enough that the night itself leaned in to hear, “you won’t walk away next time.”
It wasn’t an empty threat — it was a promise. The parking lot was silent until the security guy spoke up. “Alright, boys, let’s break it up.”
This time, I nudged Noah, and we walked away.
Halfway back to the dorms, I glanced over at him. He was testing his split lip with his tongue and wincing each time.
“That got out of hand,” I admitted. “You didn’t need to get involved.”
He didn’t slow, didn’t look at me as he answered. “I involved myself.”
