THE DORM – AFTERNOON
Wesley sat on his bed, staring at the wall.
Charlie was at the window, talking to Josephine on the phone. Something about a party. Something about the weekend. Something about how she wasn't going to sleep with him, so he should stop asking.
Wesley didn't care about any of it.
His mind was somewhere else. Somewhere darker.
Oliver was at practice. Aaron was in the library. The room was quiet except for Charlie's voice and the hum of the fan.
Wesley pulled out his phone. Scrolled to a contact he'd saved under a fake name. A guy who knew a guy. A guy who could get things.
He typed: I need something. Tonight.
The reply came fast: Same place. 11PM. Bring cash.
He deleted the messages.
Charlie hung up. "You okay?"
"Fine."
"You've been quiet."
"I've been thinking."
"About?"
Wesley looked at him. "Nothing important."
Charlie didn't believe him. But Charlie never pushed.
THE CAFETERIA – EVENING
Dinner was loud.
Zuru was telling another story. Something about a guy who'd messaged her on Instagram. Something about how he was "obsessed."
"He sent me forty messages in one hour," Zuru said. "Forty."
"Were you replying?" Zizi asked.
"No. That's the point."
"That's not a point. That's a Tuesday."
Vicky laughed. It was hollow.
Zuru looked at her. "You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You've been saying that for weeks."
"Because it's true."
Zuru leaned closer. "You're lying."
"I'm always lying."
"That's not healthy."
"Neither is obsessing over a guy who sent you forty messages."
Zuru sat back. "Fair."
Mandy walked past their table. Her tray was full. Her face was blank.
She sat down two tables away. Alone.
Vicky stared at her.
"Don't," Zizi said.
"Don't what?"
"Don't start something."
"I'm not starting anything."
"You're staring."
"I'm observing. There's a difference."
Mandy looked up. Caught Vicky's eye. Didn't look away.
Vicky held her gaze.
The cafeteria noise faded.
Neither of them spoke.
Zuru broke the silence. "Okay, this is uncomfortable."
"You're always uncomfortable," Zizi said.
"Because you're always making things weird."
"I'm not making anything. I'm just sitting here."
Mandy stood up. Walked toward the exit. Didn't look back.
Vicky watched her go.
"Fuck her," Vicky said.
"Which one?" Zuru asked.
"Both. All of them."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
THE DORM – 10:30 PM
Wesley stood in front of the mirror.
He was wearing a black hoodie. Dark jeans. Sneakers that didn't squeak.
"You going somewhere?" Charlie asked.
"Out."
"Out where?"
"Just out."
Charlie watched him. "You're being weird."
"I'm always weird."
"You're being weirder than usual."
Wesley pulled up his hood. "Don't wait up."
He walked out.
Charlie stared at the door.
Something was wrong. He could feel it.
He picked up his phone. Texted Oliver: Where are you?
Oliver: Practice. What's wrong?
Charlie: Wesley just left. Acting strange.
Oliver: He's always strange.
Charlie: Different strange.
A long pause.
Oliver: I'll be there in ten.
Charlie put down the phone.
The room was too quiet.
THE STREET – 11:00 PM
Wesley walked alone.
The campus was empty. The streetlights flickered. The air was cold.
He knew the place. An abandoned building near the edge of campus. The back entrance. The basement door. The same spot Oliver had used a dozen times before.
He'd never done this before. Not really. He'd been curious. He'd watched Oliver. He'd asked questions. But he'd never gone through with it.
Tonight was different.
Tonight he needed to feel something else. Something other than the weight of being himself.
He turned the corner.
The building was dark. The streetlight above was broken. The only light came from a single bulb over the basement entrance.
A figure stood in the shadows.
Hoodie. Hands in pockets. Waiting.
Wesley walked closer. His heart was pounding. His hands were cold.
"You have the cash?" the figure asked. The voice was low. Disguised.
"Yeah."
"Let's see it."
Wesley pulled out an envelope. Thick. Full.
The figure stepped closer.
"Put it on the ground."
Wesley bent down. Placed the envelope on the concrete.
The figure stepped closer. Pulled something from their pocket. A small bag. White. Powdery.
Wesley's throat tightened.
This was really happening.
The figure knelt to place the bag on the ground. The sleeve of the hoodie pulled back.
A wristband.
Orange. Thin. The kind you get at a campus event. The kind that had a date printed on it. The kind that was supposed to be thrown away after one use.
Wesley had seen that wristband before.
He'd seen it on someone's hand at a party. At a study session. At the cafeteria.
His mind raced.
The figure stood up. Took the envelope. Turned to leave.
A bird landed on the streetlight above. A pigeon. Fat. Unbothered.
The streetlight tilted slightly under its weight.
The light shifted.
The figure's face was visible for just a second.
Wesley's breath stopped.
"Zuru?"