Rafael was sitting in the chair, waiting for it all to be done. School was going to start soon, and he was painfully aware that there were many people in the office. His mother. His head coaches. The principal. The vice principal.

Akshi.

He stared at the knots in the wood desk, listening to Mariana and Principal Watson talk. The hairs on the back of his neck stuck straight up. His body kept telling him he was in danger, but he was doing his best to ignore Akshi, who kept his eyes locked on Rafael’s face the moment he stepped inside the office.

But Akshi was there. He was listening to this entire conversation, and something in him was screaming at him to stop it. To stop the conversation. They were describing Rafael’s entire schedule, making sure he got out of Señora Florez’s math class and moved to a different one so he wouldn’t have to sit there with him. Went over, again, what happened that night. Too much detail Akshi was happily writing down. He needed to do something. Inaction froze him in the chair. This crime lord should not have this much information. He needed to stop it. Somehow.

Coward. I’m nothing more than a coward, and everyone is in danger because Akshi is listening in. Do something. Do something, you idiot! Tackle him. Make a scene. Do something other than sitting here.

Rafael’s fingers curled around the armrest. Something deep inside him wanted to break out and strangle Akshi. Demand that snake stay away from his girlfriend. Stay away from everyone. But that would be pointless. He couldn’t hurt Akshi, just like Akshi couldn’t hurt him. What it would do was make him aware that Rafael was involved. That couldn’t happen. Right now, they needed to cure Ezekiel of his lycanthropy.

But he’s listening to the story. This is what he does! Gather’s information, and your inaction is causing real people harm.

Just like your refusal to do anything about Evelyn.

They needed to get more information from Neal, the creator of the game. As soon as these characters and their enemies returned home, the better. Then he could go back to the shattered remains of his life. Back to his self hate.

Back to harming everyone by being a damn coward.

“So, do you feel comfortable with what we’ve talked about?”

Rafael glanced up at the principal. Who was he talking to?

Mariana nodded. “A lot better, yes.”

“Excellent.” The principal placed his hands on his desk. “I think we’re all in agreement, then.”

Everyone moved to leave. “Wait,” Rafael heard himself say. Principal Miller and his coaches glanced at him. Rafael needed to speak, but he hesitated under the attention. “What about… what about punishment?”

Glances were exchanged before turning back to Rafael. The principal cleared his throat. “As said before, since Nick didn’t do this on school grounds, our hands are tied. There’s very little we can—”

“No, I mean… mine.” Rafael glanced at his coaches. “What’s my punishment?”

Principal Miller looked confused. “Your punishment? For what?”

He couldn’t believe Principal Miller was even saying this. “For what I did to Evelyn. I… assaulted her. I should be… shouldn’t something be done?”

Principal Miller leaned back in his chair, his face a mixture of sorrow. “Your situation is the same as Nick’s. It wasn’t done on school grounds. And it wasn’t severe enough for us to do anything now that so many years have passed.”

Not severe enough. Rafael stared at Principal Miller. It was severe enough to dissolve a friendship. To cause an older brother to beat the shit out of him. To spark this conversation in the first place. To cause Rafael to seriously fear for his life when he thought of stumbling in the path of Nick today at school.

“I… should at least be kicked off the football team.”

His coach shook his head. “It was two and a half years ago. You’ve proved your character since. Take a couple weeks to heal, then get ready to practice mid-October.”

Rafael stared. He had nothing more to say. Something deep in his gut said this was wrong. He’d done something bad. Bad enough to get more than a slap on the wrist. Not with how much damage had happened.

He could demand something. Anything. He should have been kicked off the team. He should be suspended. Change schools. Something. Why weren’t they doing anything.

The coaches all left, and Rafael’s stomach continued to churn. He couldn’t accept this. Hazel should have left him. Derek should have never talked to him again. Mariana should not be sitting next to him, making sure his schedule was changed so Nick could never touch him again. He had made choices leading up to this moment, and they were all shitty.

In fact, the only reaction that made sense was Nick’s.

“Come on, Rafael,” Mariana said.

He had no choice, mostly because he didn’t want to stay in the office another second with Akshi. His silence in that room, too, was another shitty choice on his part. The bell rang, signifying the start of classes. Rafael’s feet shuffled out of the office, and his mother walked beside him.

“I’m going to work. You call me as soon as you get home, okay?” She ruffled his hair before kissing the top of his head.

“Mom, I—” Rafael didn’t know what was happening. “Isn’t this wrong? Shouldn’t I be getting punished?”

“Ah, Rafael.” She gently placed her hand near his nose, following the bruise that was healing. “You already have enough punishment, don’t you think?”

“I… what punishment? I haven’t gotten anything. I shouldn’t be getting off this easy. What I did was wrong.”

“And you know it was wrong. That’s what punishment is supposed to do. To remind you you’re wrong. You spent two and a half years trying to make it right by yourself. Now we’re here to help you. Stop thinking about getting kicked off the football team, and work on healing what happened.”

She kissed his forehead again before leaving out the front doors. Rafael watched her go as students began filing out of the hallways, heading toward their classrooms.

No. He completely disagreed with his mother. She was married to Jack, after all. If Jack got a slap on the wrist and returned to his family, he was quite sure they’d all be dead. Every choice he made since that night was like a black sludge that he lived with, growing. Festering. It came out when Nick punched him, and the black sludge separated from his body. He finally saw the monster that’d been living with him. He was going to everyone, begging them to help him lock it up, and they were simply patting his head and telling him it was fine.

It wasn’t fine. Absolutely none of this was fine.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Hazel came up to him, hugging him tenderly. “Are you okay?”

“I… think so.” No. He wasn’t okay. He wasn’t sure what he expected. Expulsion from football. From sports. From school, even. Made an example because he’d made an awful choice. A warning to others. And he’d be the first to admit he deserved every bit of it. But did he deserve it enough to force it on himself? Was that the hell he was going to live with? Knowing he deserved worse, but not being strong enough to request it.

Like sitting quietly in an office as Akshi gathered more information on his old friends. He glanced up to see Mr. Stower walk out of the office with Akshi close behind. Hazel almost turned to see, but Rafael placed a hand on her cheek, forcing her to face him, giving the smallest shake of his head. True, Hazel would see Akshi soon enough, but he felt this deep desire to protect her for as long as possible.

Hazel looked at him, a hint of fear in her eyes. Rafael forced himself to look away and watch, making sure Mr. Stower was walking away from him.

***

Nick had his book open, but he wasn’t reading it. Anger roared through him too much for him to do anything like concentrate on the words in front of him. He used his book like everyone else used ear buds. A sign he wanted to be left alone.

It was lunchtime, and it was too loud. He kept reading, making sure everyone could see the book in his hand as he stuffed his pizza roll in the small marinara cup. He picked it up, ripping a piece of the roll with his teeth as he continued to stare at the words.

A tray came down softly at the spot across from him, and he snapped his gaze to Derek, who sat down. “Hello.” Nick said nothing, looking back at his book as he drowned the roll in the marinara sauce. “So, um, do you want to hear the update on the gossip going around about you? Or the update about Ezekiel?”

“I don’t care,” Nick said.

Derek hesitated. “Okay, so… when you say it in that sort of tone, I can’t tell if you don’t care which one I start with, or you don’t want to hear it at all.”

Nick shut his book with more snap than necessary before placing it to one side. He tore another chunk of roll with his teeth. “Just preparing for bad news. Might as well hit me with all of it.”

Derek kept his eye on Nick as he opened his utensils. He had the impression Derek was nervous of him, but he found he didn’t care about that, either. “So… Rafael is here, meaning the rumors that people thought you murdered him and buried him under the baseball diamond are diminishing. That’s a plus.”

Nick didn’t answer. Whatever levity Derek hoped to have with starting that story petered out. “The rumors remaining are still not helping your reputation.” Nick didn’t respond. Derek sighed. “Fine. Let me tell you about Ezekiel.” Nick listened to him explain the entire situation and the ingredients they needed for the cleansing ritual. Nick was shaking his head, wondering how they were possibly going to pull that off in a month.

“Tyler has his own notes on this. After I told him what Calawit said, he says Ezekiel needs to level up a lot. The stronger he is, the more likely he can beat this thing.”

“Right,” Nick said.

“Which means we need to keep up the weekly CCNC sessions.”

Nick stared at Derek. “I’m not hanging around Rafael.”

“And you don’t have to. Tyler believes that you and Evelyn have a strong enough connection to your characters that you can roll the dice from inside your house. At least until we figure some things out.”

His fingers tightened over the marinara cup. “What exactly is there to figure out? It is for Rafael’s own safety that I never talk to him again.”

Derek sighed. “Come on, man.”

“Are you going this Saturday? With him?” Nick asked.

The silence was long. Almost a betrayal itself before Derek rubbed the back of his neck. “Technically, I’ve already gone. I went with them to check with Calawit.”

It would have been easier if Derek had punched him in the mouth. “Are you serious? You went with them?”

“What did you expect? I love CCNC, and I want these characters back home,” Derek said.

Nick dropped the cup with more force than necessary. “He assaulted my sister. And you take their side?”

Derek raised two hands in surrender. “Don’t make me choose. Don’t draw the line in the sand. Don’t make this like a divorced couple, forcing their child to choose which parent they love more. I went there to show my support for Ezekiel, not Rafael. He knows what he did was shitty, and I still have my own feelings to process.”

“Again, Derek, I’m going to say this as plainly as possible. He. Assaulted. My. Sister.”

Derek sighed, dropping his hand. He shook his head. “Yeah, man. He did. And you broke into rich people’s cars to steal things so your new best friend’s older brother could have money to buy drugs. You vandalized part of a town. Unknowingly aided someone who was giving out drugs illegally. Got in the car with an underage drunk guy, who kept getting more drunk, and put everyone on that road at risk. It was lucky, even, that you got in a crash before you took out a bystander. If you’re waiting for me to choose the guy who made the better decisions in their past life, the jury is still out on that one.”

Blood pounded in his ears, threatening to drown out all reason and logic. “That was three-” He pulled himself short, curling his fists.

Derek didn’t let it pass. He raised an eyebrow. “Three years ago? About the same time Rafael made his own incredibly stupid and criminal choice?” Nick glared at Derek, his knuckles turning white.

“That was different, because I didn’t hide it,” Nick said.

“You couldn’t. If you could have, would you?” Derek said. Nick kept glaring at him. “All I’m saying is you’re both incredibly shitty. We’ve just had longer to process what you did. If we can’t work together, Ezekiel turns into a wererat. Our group loses their leader. Forever. Again, Nick, I didn’t go over there to support Rafael. I went to help Ezekiel. The character you once played.”

Nick grabbed the last of his pizza roll. “This game wasn’t meant to be so life consuming. We have some actual real-world problems we need to work through. We can’t put our problems to one side to solve theirs.”

Derek shook his head, a frown clear on his face. “Dude, I don’t know any other way to get this across. I understand why you did what you did. You don’t need to defend yourself to me. I am still processing my own anger at Rafael right now. You are preaching to the choir! Just don’t. Make. Me. Choose. You are both struggling with the horrible decisions you made years ago, and I am suggesting to Rafael what I suggested to you. That you take your mind off things by playing CCNC.”

“This is completely different,” Nick said. “I didn’t hurt anyone in the group when I did what I did.”

“Like hell you didn’t,” Derek said, tears pricking his eyes.

“Not in the same way that Rafael did to Evelyn. Don’t even pretend that’s the same,” Nick said.

Derek covered his face, sighing. “Of course it’s not, but… Tyler’s thinking of a system. We can still cure Ezekiel while spending time apart. It’s just… I need to know you’ll do everything you can to help Ezekiel. Which means not killing Rafael.” Nick glared at Derek. “Do you know how many people are still convinced you murdered him? That you came to school yesterday cool as ever because you’d also threatened Principal Miller that you’d murder him, too, if he didn’t allow you to come?”

Nick stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just thought you ought to know the gossip. How convinced people were that you were the kind of person to murder Rafael.” Nick hadn’t seen Rafael at all. He figured it was better he didn’t know the bastard’s schedule.

“Do you honestly think I’m going to kill him?” Nick asked.

Once again, Derek hesitated, and again, Nick narrowed his eyes. Derek shook his head. “You always pretend you’re not some dark and brooding rogue. But then things like this happen, and I see glimpses of Grizzizzik in you. I need to hear you say that you won’t slit Rafael’s throat.”

Nick glared at Derek before he shoved the last of the roll into his mouth. He had to be completely honest with himself, and with Derek. “I’ve only ever… thought about it.”

“Murder is wrong,” Derek said, like he couldn’t imagine he needed to say this.

Nick didn’t like the condescending tone. “You wanna know what else is wrong?” He let it hang. Obviously Derek knew.

Derek sighed. “This is a future decision you haven’t made yet. This is the difference.”

“I’m… not going to,” Nick said. I just want to punch him again. Want no one around to stop me and keep beating him until the anger goes away.

There was a chance the anger would never go away.

Nick looked away, taking a sip of his drink as Derek continued to scrutinize him. “What Rafael did was shitty. And the thing is, he knows it. I saw it on his face last night. He admitted he was a terrible friend, and deserved every horrible thing coming to him. I know you want revenge. I’m afraid you want to kill him. So I just need to check. Do you know killing Rafael is evil?”

Nick glared at Derek, furious. He wasn’t even sure why he was furious. Most of the fury came from knowing Rafael was alive and well, walking around this very school. And every horrible thing coming to him was going to be nothing more than a slap on the wrist, when he deserved so much more. Nick realized his fists were still clenched, and a plastic knife had found its way into his fist. “I… will not… slit Rafael’s throat.” Nick wasn’t sure he believed it yet.

Derek stared at him, then sighed, picking up his tray. “I’m making things worse.” He got up, giving a sigh. “I’ll be seeing you around, Nick.” He headed toward the table he usually sat at with his drama buddies. Nick opened his book again as he stabbed the cooked carrots with the knife. He glanced over at the other table to see some students watching him. The second he made eye contact, they turned away, murmuring amongst themselves. Nick forced himself to stare at his book. Stare at the words so people would leave him alone as he unclenched his fist, the plastic knife clattering to the table.