“Why do you keep pushing that?” Folding my arms over my shirt, I stood my ground. “Trenton acts like a total jerk to my face, and you are still trying to find a way to blame Zotov.”
“Because Corby pulled me aside after the last team meeting,” Elliot shot back, his tone sharp. “He told me Hastings is pushinghard on a supposed hazing angle. They’ve been going back and forth about it.”
My posture stiffened. “Corby told you that?”
“He wanted me to know Hastings might start asking questions. The AD wants a reason to tear up a scholarship, and Corby’s been running interference.” Elliot checked down the hallway before leaning in. “Hastings even cornered me earlier today. Gave me this massive speech about team culture and protecting the freshmen. Kept asking if certain guys were throwing their weight around or forcing the new guys to fall in line.”
The blood drained from my face. “He is asking about hazing.”
“He is actively hunting for a reason to pull a scholarship,” Elliot warned. “So if Zotov is leaning on you, you need to tell me before Hastings makes it a whole thing.”
I pressed my thumb hard into the side of my index finger, forcing my expression to stay completely neutral.
“Nobody is hazing me,” I told Elliot.
“Karter, if he is doing something...”
“He is not. Let it go.”
I turned and walked away from my brother before he could push the issue further. Not bothering to stick around for dessert, I grabbed my coat, stepped outside, and ordered a ride. The cab pulled up seven minutes later.
The lock clicked shut on my door at the Ice House. Matt was still out at the dinner, leaving our shared attic room empty.
I dropped my coat on the desk chair and sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the blank drywall. It was just a few inches of cheap plaster and wood studs separating my side of the roomfrom Aleksey’s, but it had felt like a concrete bunker for days now.
I gripped the edge of the bed, trying to steady the urge I suddenly had to do something with my hands. Every instinct told me to just turn off the desk lamp and go to sleep. Keeping the peace meant leaving things alone. Letting the situation run its course. Doing nothing was always the safest play.
But safe just felt numb. And I was absolutely done being numb.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone.
I typed out the message:We need to talk.
I hit send and dropped my phone onto my blanket.
The next two hours were brutal. I spent the first forty minutes staring at the wall in complete silence. Then the front door downstairs shut. Familiar boots climbed the creaky wooden stairs. A second later, the corner radiator kicked on with a loud, metallic clank, but it did not cover up the sharp squeak filtering through the thin wall.
Bedsprings. Aleksey was back.
Knowing he was awake on the exact opposite side of that wall made the wait infinitely worse. A dozen times, I almost stood up, walked out into the hall, and knocked on his door.
He was right there.
But starting a public confrontation in the middle of The Ice House would drag everyone into it, so I forced myself to sit tight and wait.
Around eleven, the doorknob rattled. I quickly slid down against my pillows, stretching my legs out to look casual right as Matt walked in from the donor event. He paused when he saw me in the dark, his hand lingering on the light switch.
“Bro, you bailed early,” Matt said, loosening his tie. “Is everything good? I grabbed some extra sliders from the catering tray if you want them.”
“Nah, I’m good. I just had a headache,” I lied, keeping my voice level. “Thanks, though.”
Matt gave a short nod and did not push it. He quietly got ready for bed, switched off his lamp, and crashed out, oblivious to the anxiety suffocating my side of the room. Meanwhile, I lay flat on my back in the dark, staring up at the ceiling.
At eleven forty, my phone screen finally lit up the shadows on the bed.
Aleksey:Not safe.
I stared at the two words. Aleksey had been treating me like a ghost all week, so the fact that he broke his own strict rule to reply to me meant his discipline was cracking.
