Chapter 14 #2
“You boys want to tell me what happened?”
The biggest one was still on the ground, but he was already sucking in breath to speak, to spin it, to bury us . . .
Noah stepped forward. Not threatening — just solid. His voice was calm, low, and factual. “They followed us out. Tried to start something. We ended it.”
The guard eyed him. “So you’re saying this was self-defense?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. No bravado. No apology. Just truth. “There are five of them and only two of us,” I added in what I hoped was my most reasonable voice.
The guard’s eyes slid to me, and in that second, I realized that he wasn’t deciding what happened; he was deciding who it was easier to believe. I didn’t look away.
“It didn’t need to go this far,” I said. “But I’m not letting someone take a swing at me or my friend.”
The guard exhaled heavily, as if he didn’t want to do tonight’s paperwork. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said. “You two are going to leave. Right now. Both of you. I’ll question these guys and hear what they’ve got to say.”
You could hear a pin drop, and then Noah nodded once — respectful, almost. He nudged my arm, and we turned to go. Behind me, one of the guys on the ground spat, “Cowards.”
I didn’t turn around, but Noah did.
He didn’t hit him. He didn’t even touch him. He just looked down at him — quiet and deliberate. “If you ever come at me or him with a bottle in your hand again,” Noah said, his voice soft enough that the night itself leaned in to hear, “you won’t walk away next time.”
It wasn’t an empty threat — it was a promise. The parking lot was silent until the security guy spoke up. “Alright, boys, let’s break it up.”
This time, I nudged Noah, and we walked away.
Halfway back to the dorms, I glanced over at him. He was testing his split lip with his tongue and wincing each time.
“That got out of hand,” I admitted. “You didn’t need to get involved.”
He didn’t slow, didn’t look at me as he answered. “I involved myself.”
“Yeah, but—”
He cut me a look that stopped me talking. “You’re my roommate,” he said — simple. Uncomplicated. Absolute. “My teammate. I protect you. You protect me.”
Something in my chest twisted — sharp, painful, anchoring. “Right.”
He nodded once. “And it’s what friends do.”
“Friends do fight together,” I agreed, seeing his pleased nod. We reached the building’s doors. “Remember that later.”
“Later?” he queried. “Coach?”
“Nope. Dustin.” I glanced at him. “Wait until he finds out, then tell me if I’m still your ride or die.”
“Ah fuck, I probably shouldn’t have eaten his peanut butter cups.”
It hurt to laugh, but it still felt good.
Once inside the apartment, Noah and I exchanged a look and a bro handshake, and went our separate ways.
Noah looked worse than I did, but damn, the three guys he took on?
They were worse — way worse. I don’t think I’d done too badly, but Noah Matthews fought like someone who had zero fucks left to give.
Not because he could fight, but because he had no issue stepping up when he saw shit go sideways.
I popped a pill before I lay down, my body was already aching, and my shoulder was on fire.
Dustin came home around an hour later; his ‘mom’s event’ was a sophomore girl he’d been hooking up with, but he didn’t believe in staying the night.
He liked to get in, get out, and cuddling wasn’t on the menu.
He didn’t boast about it; he wasn’t a complete dick, but when you live with someone for two years, you pick up their habits.
I was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for him, when I heard him come in, and he wasn’t quiet.
I knew he wouldn’t be. He was as furious as I’d predicted.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded, pushing my bedroom door open without a care if I was already sleeping.
I raised my head, met his dark glare, and dropped my head back onto the pillow. “You’re going to wake up Noah.”
“Well, he’d better be awake,” Dust yelled, banging on the wall like a crazy person.
Moments later, Noah’s door swung open. “Why the fuck are you yelling?” he demanded gruffly.
It was the most aggressive I’d heard Noah be since I met him. Well, apart from kicking three guys’ asses.
“Have you seen your face?” Dust was incensed. Had I not been the subject of his fury, I might have laughed.
“We got into a bar fight,” Noah said with a shrug. “It’s over, I’m trying to sleep.”
“You’re trying to sleep?” Dustin stared between the two of us. I was still lying on the bed, chin on my chest, watching Noah leaning against my door, and Dustin looking between us like he was at a tennis match. “You’re going to get kicked off the team, you fucking psycho!”
“Hey!” Noah protested, rubbing his jaw. “How come I’m the psycho?” He pointed at me. “He started it.”
Fucker. I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, brother.”
“Why would you start a fight with guys on our team?” Dustin asked me, confusion on his face. He pointed at Noah without looking at him. “And why would you help him, and not stop him?”
Noah yawned, wincing when his jaw protested. “Way I see it, if he thinks he needs to fight five guys for something, I’m making sure he isn’t fighting alone. You’d have done the same.” He yawned again. “You done? Can I go to bed?”
“Hey, Dust,” I said, seeing Dustin about to lose his shit completely, and not wanting these two to come to blows. “I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay? Coach is going to drill me hard. When I’m done with him, I’ll tell you both why it happened.”
Dustin’s eyes were wide. “You mean he doesn’t know?” He looked at Noah. “You threw down with our teammates, and you don’t know why?”
Noah gave a half shrug. “I have patience, and you guys are my friends. I’d have done the same if it were you.
” He sighed tiredly. “I’m beat, Coach Holt is going to rip me apart in the morning,” he said with a grin.
“Thank fuck I helped win a championship, eh?” He winked at me, gave Dustin a nod, and went back to his room.
Coach Holt was the Defensive Coordinator and was a hardcase, and I almost felt sorry for Noah, but I would have Coach Hembry and Coach Sutherland reaming me out, and decided I better feel sorry for me first.
“Go to sleep, Slater,” I murmured, turning over, my ribs protesting. “I’ll explain when I know what they’re going to hit me with tomorrow.”
“You’re a dick,” he grumbled. “You get kicked out, and I have to do next season with the second-team QB. That’s going to fuck up my Draft chances, and yours. What were you thinking, Dante?”
“They won’t kick me out,” I told him, tiredly, and I heard him mumbling as he left the room and went to his own.
I lay awake for a long time.