Eli13 #2
The building looked the same on the outside.
That strange mix of modern glass panels and old brick.
Clean-cut hedges lining the path. A few teachers milling around with takeaway coffees and folders tucked under their arms. I passed through the front doors without stopping, barely offering a nod to anyone who looked my way.
Inside felt colder than I remembered. The oddly familiar sterile scent of floor polish and cleaning products hung faintly in the air.
The front office sat off to the right with the same worn counters and cluttered bulletin boards still crowding the space around it.
For a second, I was fourteen again, waiting to talk to the headteacher after getting in trouble for some forgotten scheme.
Two women looked up from behind the desk as I stepped up to the window. Ms. Carrow and Mrs Adams. I recognised them both instantly, though time had softened their features.
"Well, there's a face I haven't seen in a while," Ms. Carrow said with a surprised smile. "Eli Knight, is that you?"
I gave a quick nod, doing my best to return the expression. "Yeah. Hi."
Mrs Adams reached for the visitor sign-in sheet. "Back for a visit?"
"Sort of. I was hoping to catch Rowan. Is he still around?"
"Yeah, he's here. In his classroom, I think." She slid a plastic badge across the counter. "You remember the way?"
"I do." I signed in and attached the badge to my hoodie. My fingers felt a little too tight around the clip, nerves still winding tighter with every second. "Thanks."
Without another word, I turned and headed down the corridor. My footsteps sounded louder than they probably were as they echoed softly against the tile floor. I wasn't going to let Rowan shut me out this time. Whatever wall he was trying to put up between us, I was done dancing around it.
I didn't care how awkward or messy this got. I wasn't leaving town until I knew he was safe.
The hallway stretched long and quiet, lined with closed doors and faded student artwork. I passed each one slowly, counting down to the room I remembered. Third on the left after the stairwell.
I paused outside Rowan's classroom and peeked through the narrow window in the door.
He sat at his desk in the far corner, but his posture was all wrong for how he usually carried himself in this space.
His shoulders were slouched, and he had a pile of papers in front of him and a pen in his hand.
But he wasn't really working. Just hovering over the same page like he couldn't decide where to start. Or didn't have the energy to try.
He looked wrecked. Just as Tom said.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Rowan – "
He jumped so violently that the chair scraped against the tile and the pen flew to the floor. "Jesus Christ!"
I froze. Shit, I didn't knock. I should have known better. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
"You can't just barge in like that!" he snapped with a shaky breath. "I thought you were – " He didn't finish the sentence. His hands went to the papers on his desk, fussing with them as if they might offer him some cover.
"I know. That was on me."
"What the hell do you want?" He didn't even bother to look up and instead turned in his seat to look for his pen.
I ignored the edge in his voice and stepped closer. It didn't scare me off. It just made it clearer how deep he'd buried himself. "I need to talk to you."
He found the pen and practically threw it on his desk. "This isn’t a good time – "
"It's never a good time. But I'm done watching from the sidelines, Rowan. I know something's wrong."
His hands curled into fists. Though his words still sounded angry, they didn't carry as much bite this time. "Not here. We can't do this at school."
"I don't care where we do this." My voice came out sharper than I meant, but I didn't pull it back. "I'm not leaving and pretending I didn't see what I saw. Just tell me the truth."
He stiffened. His eyes flicked to the open door. "Keep your voice down," he hissed.
That was the clearest crack I'd seen in him yet.
I took a breath and tried to rein it in. Getting angry wouldn't help. It never did with Rowan.
Quietly, I stepped in front of the desk and leaned on it to bring myself level with him. He immediately sat back in his chair and turned to stare at some spot on the floor. "Rowan... Look at me."
He didn't. His shoulders drew in, and every part of him looked like he wanted to disappear.
I kept my voice steady. "I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me, Ro."
He still wouldn't look at me. But I saw the way his throat worked around a swallow. The way his jaw clenched. I was starting to get through.
I decided to push my luck a little bit. "I can't understand what's going on if you won't let me in. You're pushing me away, and I don't know why. You're my best friend. I'm just trying to help."
He flinched, and his expression softened for just a second before the walls went back up. "Not here, Eli. Please."
The desperation in his voice made me stop. He was more scared than I'd ever seen him.
He went quiet for a long moment. His eyes stayed fixed elsewhere, unfocused. I could see the gears turning as he tried to find an excuse to get himself out of this.
His fingers tugged at his sleeve to cover the marks I already knew were there.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and rough, barely holding together.
"I'll be done here in a couple of hours.
I'll text you when I get home. You can come by then, and we'll talk.
" The words weren't angry. Just resigned. Frayed at the edges.
I tried not to show how much relief that simple promise gave me. It wasn't much, but it was more than I'd gotten before. I'd take it.
I meant to leave it there. But then I noticed something else. Just the faintest bit of discolouration peeking above the collar of his turtleneck. Something dark and out of place. Without thinking, I reached out and tugged the fabric down gently to get a better look.
He jerked back like I'd burned him.
His hand shot up to swat mine away, and his chair scooted back, putting space between us in a second flat. His breath caught in his throat, sharp and audible, and for a moment, the expression on his face cracked wide open. Not just fear or panic. It was something raw and defensive and cornered.
I froze. "Rowan..."
He stared at me across the gap he'd created. Whatever was on his neck, he didn't want me to see it, and he wasn't going to explain it. The look in his eyes all but dared me to try to make him talk. And all at once, I understood.
He wasn't just afraid of Marcus. He was afraid of me seeing the truth.
I took a step back and forced my words to stay gentle. "Okay. I'll wait to hear from you."
He tensed, but he gave a small nod.
I turned and walked to the door, forcing myself not to look back or say anything else. Not to push him when he clearly wasn't ready.
But the second I stepped into the hallway, the calm cracked. My fists curled tight at my sides as I walked. Anger surged under my skin. Not at Rowan, though. I was furious at Marcus for whatever the hell he did to him to leave him this scared.
I didn't know the full story yet. But I would. And when I did, that smug fucker would answer for every bit of it.