Nelson couldn’t help cringing in pain, but he also couldn’t help but prod the handprint glowing red on his cheek. His only consolation was there was no one around this late in the evening to see him in this sorry state.

Of all the girls in the astronomy club, Selena was the one he was most afraid of telling about the dirty pictures. Dana gave him the cold shoulder as expected and Chiho still thinks he’s playing a joke, but Selena’s temper flared when she was flustered, and she flustered easily. He still had to tell Brianne and the president. But Brianne, that poor girl, that poor wallflower of a girl might just melt into a puddle and evaporate into the winds when she finds out her modesty was compromised. He wasn’t sure he could look at her the same way again now that he knew her layers upon layers of loose clothes camouflaged a deceptively sexy body.

He felt dirty just by having those thoughts and did his best to shake them from his head. He made himself dizzy, and when the lethargy passed, he realized he wasn’t alone. His club cast a shadow over him, shielding his eyes from the setting sun. The stern expression she sported was a departure from the mature and benevolent grin he was used to seeing on her, but she didn’t angry.

“Prez…” Nelson unsurely greeted. “I was going to look for you…”

She sat down beside Nelson and spoke calmly. “Selena called me. She told me everything. But you know how she gets when she’s upset. I want to hear your side of the story.”

Nelson summed up his afternoon as best he could, constantly stumbling over his words and backpedaling to contextualize and recontextualize the thought process leading him to buy dirty pictures of his friends. You’d think having explained it three times already he’d be able to sum it up clearly and concisely. The president listened silently throughout, occasionally nodding, but otherwise allowing him to finish his story without interruption.

“–and then she called me an idiot and slapped me,” he finished his explanation. “You believe me, don’t you?”

The president spent a moment with her thoughts before answering. “I believe you acted with everyone’s best interests at heart. Regardless of what you did with the pictures, you didn’t have anything to do with taking them. Though I would rather things have happened another way or not at all, I don’t know what you could have done differently in your position.”

“I tried not to look, but I couldn’t leave those pictures where anyone could see them!”

“Whatever happened can’t be changed. You did what you thought was best at the time, now you can only move forward.”

“Am I right to tell everyone what happened? I thought it was the right thing to do, but I’m only making people mad and sad.”

“I am a little upset, but it will be easier to forgive your honesty than if we found out later you were keeping this secret.”

Nelson wiped his nose and sniffled. “I still have to tell Brianne. But I don’t know how she’ll take it. I’m worried it will be too much for her.”

“If she has to hear it from anyone, I think she’d rather it was you who broke it to her. Brianne is fragile, but not as fragile you might think. Be your usual, honest self and everything will be fine.”

“Thanks, prez. You always seem to know what to say.”

Her gentle smile faltered slightly with concern. “You don’t have to worry over everything on your own. I understand you don’t want to worry us, but we’re your friends. We’re here for you.”

“I know. But it’s hard to see myself as part of the group when you’re in the gifted/talented program and Selena competes in UIL and Brianne has more scholarships than classes… everyone has so much going for them, and I have nothing. And then things like this happen where everyone’s future could rely on me. I just don’t know what to do.”

“You can only be the best you can be. It’s not a bad thing if you need to go to someone else for help every now and again. There will be times when you can’t come to us, but you have other people. Your roommate seemed amicable enough.”

“I don’t know about Zane. He usually keeps to himself, but he makes me nervous. Sometimes he’ll sneak out in the middle of the night and not come back until dawn. One time, he came back with a black eye. I want to ask what’s going on, but I don’t want to bother him.”

“You’re concerned, but you also want to respect his privacy.”

Nelson nodded. “…He can also be a little scary sometimes.”

“Regardless of what happens, I have faith you will make the right decision.”

“Thanks, prez.”

“Please, start using my name.”

“R-Really? You’ve always been ‘the president.’”

“I think we know each other well enough to suspend the formalities.”

“Alright…” he cleared his throat. “J-Jan.”

“Janice,” she corrected.

“Janice,” he repeated, then chuckled under his breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard your full name before.”

“Now you know,” she said with a smile. Janice put a reassuring hand on Nelson’s shoulder, then stood up, dusted the seat of her skirt. “If you’ll excuse me, I should make an inquiry regarding those photos. If you still plan on seeing Brianne, you should do it soon. It’s almost curfew.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you then.”

They went their separate ways. It was times like this Nelson wished he had his club mates phone numbers. A matter this delicate wasn’t something you discussed over the phone, but it would make it easier to meet up with Brianne instead of looking where she usually spent her time. With her disposition, this could be any place that got the least amount of foot traffic, but she had preferential haunts. Thursday evening, she would either be in the deepest corner of the café by the student lounge hardly anyone knew about or on the roof of the social sciences building which had a broken lock. He was out of luck if she decided to spend the evening in her dorm.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

The café was closest to where he was now, so Nelson turned a corner and took off running, but he ran headfirst into a group of guys, the only other people still on campus this late in the evening. Before he could get an apology out, a hand shot out and lifted him by his shoulder tendon and Nelson recognized a skeevy voice.

“Hey there buddy,” said the unmistakable voice of the guy who sold him the pictures. “How’s my eager little customer?” He threw his other hand over Nelson’s mouth, his two friends grabbed his arms, and they quickly dragged him into a blind spot between campus security cameras.

They roughed him up a bit so his eye was beginning to swell when they pinned him against the wall.

“So, I heard the damnedest thing just little while ago,” the peddler casually began. “Word is, the committee got their hands on a massive stash of pictures, and for some reason people are saying my most recent high roller’s the one who gave them up.”

“I won’t say anything! I swear!” Nelson pleaded.

“Oh no, no, no,” the peddler hummed. “You’re going to sing for them. You’re going to be a fountain of exposition, and they won’t be able to shut you up. As long you sing to our tune, everything is going to turn out just fine. We’ll set you up with a little allowance, maybe throw in a few snapshots if you do a good job, and maybe put your girls on the blacklist so you won’t have to worry about anyone peeking on them again.” His obnoxiously friendly demeanor turned jagged in an instant. “But if you don’t do what we say to the letter, the heat is going to find the mother of all scores right under your bed, and the astronomy club is going to be our featurette for the semester! Do we understand each other?”

With the peddler’s henchmen holding his neck against the wall, Nelson’s response was limited to a nod or shake of his head, but he couldn’t bring himself to do either. His first instinct was to spit in his face and refuse to comply. It was obviously the right thing to do, but if he did, his precious club members would suffer. Their futures would go right down the drain and it would be his fault. He could kiss his enrollment at Andronicus goodbye as well, but his absence wouldn’t be a loss for the world. On the other hand, he couldn’t let them get away. Even if his friends were protected, who knows how many people these jerks were exploiting? Would saving just his friends really be the right thing to do?

The thugs twisted his arm before he could enter any deeper contemplation and he reluctantly whimpered, “Alright! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

“There’s a good little man,” the peddler grinned. “Now you’re going to listen very carefully, because you’re going to repeat every word, and you’re going to make it believable–”

“What the fuck is this?”

The group collectively whipped their heads toward the furious voice. Nelson didn’t know if he was relieved, terrified, anxious, or all of the above to see Zane in his street clothes quickly walking toward them.

“Mind your own business, guy!” one of the thugs warned. “This doesn’t concern you!”

“Like hell!” Zane aggressively refuted as he strode closer. “I came looking for my roommate to let him know someone from the committee came for his statement.” The thugs looked uneasy and Zane smirked. “Don’t worry. I told him to fuck off. No one’s going to interrupt us.”

Zane was within arm’s reach now. The thugs weren’t on guard because Zane didn’t have his hands up, but that changed in a fraction of a second. He put a fist like pneumatic piston through the face of the nearest, sending him into a little twirl before he hit the ground. The peddler grappled him around the waist so the other thug could wail on him, but Zane caught the thug’s sloppy throw and pulled him into a headbutt, then delivered an elbow into the peddler’s kidney and kneed him in the chest when he lost his grip around his waist.

The first thug was struggling to regain his feet, so Zane wound up a knuckle sandwich to put the guy still reeling from the headbutt on the floor, then punted the second in the ribs.

They were nothing compared to Felicia. The difference wasn’t even quantifiable. Zane couldn’t get away with such disrespect in their duel. She was too quick, too ready. If even one of these guys had an iota of her battle savvy, this fight would unfold very differently. Probably not in their favor, but Zane definitely wouldn’t find it so shamefully pitiful.

He grabbed the peddler by his shirt and threw him against the wall next to the petrified Nelson and held him at eye level so his feet dangled. “I heard a lot of good shit on my way over here, but I only caught the last bit. How about you run it by me one more time.”

The peddler started to say “fuck you,” but Zane pressed his arm into his neck so only gurgling spit and blood came out.

“That’s what I thought.”

One of the thugs got up quicker than Zane anticipated and grabbed him from behind. Zane threw an elbow and found a liver, which immediately encouraged the thug to respect his personal space. The peddler took the opportunity punch, kick, and claw his way to freedom, so Zane introduced his face to the brickwork, freeing up his hands to deal with the two thugs who for whatever reason thought it was a splendid idea to continue to trifle with him.

It didn’t take long to drive them off since the ground was more blood than dirt by surface area at this point. Zane was almost disappointed none of it was his. There was some entertainment to be had flexing such a wide skill gap, but it wasn’t the least bit thrilling. He pulled the still dumbfounded Nelson to his feet.

“You’re lucky I decided to stop by. You alright?”

“I… I think so,” Nelson shakily replied.

Zane spit in some dirt and rubbed it into a road burn on Nelson’s arm that was starting to seep. “What the hell did you get yourself into?”

“I don’t know,” Nelson replied, choking back a gag. “They sold me the pictures. They didn’t want me telling anyone about them. How’d you find me?”

“There are like, three places you ever go. I picked the one that was on the way to the gate.” He sighed, content now that Nelson wasn’t bleeding. He was, however, staring off into space, having checked out halfway through Zane’s sentence. He snapped him back to attention. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Nelson jumped. “Oh, no. No I’m not.” He sniffled and started off clear enough, but got progressively more blubbery with every word until he was practically bawling. “Thanks for saving me and everything, but now his friends are going to pass out pictures of my friends and probably ruin their lives and frame me for it and get me kicked out of school and none of this would have happened if I hadn’t–”

Zane shut him up with clean slap across the face. “I don’t care if the whole world’s about to go to shit, crying won’t make things any better!”

“It won’t make it any worse–” he whimpered, then flinched when Zane raised his fist. But he didn’t do anything with it.

“Are you good?” Zane threatened. Nelson frantically nodded. “Done crying?” He nodded again, then fell to his knees when Zane dropped him. “That’s what I thought!” He wiped at some blood on his sleeve but only managed to smear it in, then fiddled with some earbuds in his pocket. “I’m going out. I’ll be back in the morning. Give me a call if something happens, but for the love of God, be a man about it.”

Zane left Nelson with the picture peddler’s unconscious body, almost corpselike in the dimming light of the setting sun except for the barely noticeable breathing. No number of apologies would save Nelson’s skin when he wakes up. He’d probably pay him in kind for every drop of blood caked on his face and probably double everything else he was already going to do. He’d probably go after Zane too, but nothing he could do would bother Zane–

He suddenly recalled some advice he got earlier that day.

“Zane?” he unsurely called after his departing friend. Zane stopped before turning the corner, taking out one of his earbuds. “What… What would you do in my situation?”

“Nothing a scrawny puke like you could get away with. You’re better off going to the committee. That’s what the ‘rulebook for nerds and tools’ says you should do.”

It came out a little harsher than Nelson would have liked, especially knowing Zane’s distaste for the committee. Though, it was probably the smartest option, not knowing how many friends the peddler might have or how far they would go if he made them an enemy. However, Nelson was having his doubts about the committee’s urgency in the matter. Due process had its place, but his drying scabs on his arm impressed the immediacy of the situation upon him.

“What if… I don’t want to wait for the committee to do something about it?” Nelson restlessly asked. “What if I wanted to fix this now? Myself. Outside the committee’s view. Could you help me?”

Zane watched Nelson for a moment, expression mostly obscured now that the sun disappeared behind the horizon. He calmly walked back to them, popped out his other earbud, and squatted to Nelson’s level. He was grinning confidently.

“Do you have any idea how lucky you are to know me?”