It took them way longer than it should have to reach the infirmary. Alex couldn't quite tell if Jack was going so slow because Matthew was really that heavy or if he was just trying to cut into as much of his Mandarin class as possible. By the time they walked through the front door, Alex's nose had pretty much clotted up already. Nurse Clara was apparently on break, so it was Dr. Bayer who greeted them in the front office.
"What a valiant steed you make, Mr Farrow," she said with a small smile as Jack dumped Matthew onto one of the waiting room chairs.
"You know those jokes aren't as funny as you guys all seem to think," Jack huffed, cracking his spine. "And you need to go on a diet, Montoya."
"It's called muscle, Farrow," Matthew said. "Your lanky ass probably isn't familiar with the word."
"He means thank you," Alex said, poking Matthew's shoulder. "Right?"
Matthew swatted Alex's hand lightly. "Fine. Whatever. Thanks, Johnny."
"Hm. Don't call me that. But you're welcome."
"Back to class with you, Mr. Farrow," Dr. Bayer said, coming around to their side of the room. "I'll get them patched up."
"Since it looks like Ms. Clara isn't around," Jack started to suggest, "I could stay and-"
"Goodbye, Jonathan."
Jack's shoulders slumped, but he trudged out of the office without further argument. Once he was gone, Dr. Bayer assessed Matthew and Alex. "Sanders called and told me you got in a fight," she said, grabbing a first aid kit from behind the desk. "With Emilio Guerrero? I thought you two were friends."
"I think it's safe that chapter has soundly ended," Matthew muttered.
"Nothing to bond over now that you've decided to stop tormenting your poor flatmate?"
"I mean torment feels like an exaggeration."
Dr Bayer motioned for Alex to sit down next to Matthew, doing a quick examination of his nose. "Luckily it's not broken," she said. "Just a bit bruised."
"It looks worse than it is," Alex said. "I'm fine."
"You were hit by an accidental stray shot, yes?"
"Yes," Alex muttered, not meeting her eyes.
"Is there a particular reason this accident happened?"
"I'm very bad at football."
"And Emilio is bad at not acting like a tool," Matthew added.
"Can I ask who threw the first punch?" Bayer asked him.
"Depends," Matthew said. "Do you only count literal or metaphorical too?"
"Would make it you and metaphorically make it him?"
"... Maybe."
Dr. Bayer shook her head and opened up her first aid kit. "Alexander, I've got a freezer with some ice packs in my office. Could you grab me a couple?"
Alex nodded and went to get them, catching sight of himself in the mirror in Dr. Bayer's office as he did. The amount of blood on his face looked severe. An onlooker would either assume he'd been in a bad fight or was a vampire with no table manners. He doubted the deep red stain would ever come out of his shirt.
When Alex got back to the front room Bayer had already patched up the scrapes on Matthew's face with butterfly bandages. She took the ice packs Alex brought and gave one to Matthew. She kept the other one to press against Matthew's sprained ankle as she wrapped it.
"Use that one on your right cheek. Should help with swelling. Alexander, there are some spare shirts in a laundry bag under Clara's desk. Why don't you get cleaned up in one of the exam rooms? I've got to test Rocky here for a concussion."
"That's a movie about a boxer," Matthew added. "Did you know that?"
"No," Alex admitted.
"Adding it to the list."
Alex found the bag behind the desk and rummaged through it. It was a bizarrely random assortment of graphic t-shirts, in a variety of colours and sizes. He had a feeling they had been collected from various donation bins. Alex grabbed the first one that seemed like it would fit and headed back to the first exam room as Dr Bayer started asking Matthew to recite the months backwards. When he came back, free of blood, Matthew was showing off his balance skill with his uninjured leg.
"See? I'm fine Doc," Matthew said from his flamingo pose. "I don't mean to brag but I've taken a lot of hits to my head in my time."
"In what context would that be bragging?" She said, lightly pushing him back into his seat. "Let me know the second you get any symptoms. Headaches, nausea-"
"Confusion, double vision, yada yada yada. Like I said, not my first rodeo."
"It better be your last here, Mr. Montoya. I'm not even sure Alan will be able to convince Headmaster Conrad you shouldn't be expelled."
"He can't," Alex said, wringing his bloody shirt. "Kids have gotten in way worse fights than that. Last year Hannah sent a girl to A&E and barely got a suspension."
"I think it's safe to say the circumstances are a bit different in this case, Alexander. How do you feel? Any dizziness? Headache?"
"No, no. I'm fine."
"You're sure you're not just saying that? Taking care of your kids is my job, remember?"
"Yes. I feel fine. Promise."
Bayer scrutinized him for a second longer before relenting. "Alright. But you tell me if any of that changes too, alright?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Can I get some aspirin, Doc?" Matthew asked.
"I can't give you anything your family or primary care physician hasn't provided or authorized. I suppose I could call your mother-"
"No, no," Matthew said quickly. "That's fine. It doesn't hurt that much. Thank you."
Bayer rolled her eyes as she headed back to her office. "I've got some paperwork to do. Can I trust you two to not leg it once I turn my back?"
"Only because I can't," Matthew said, propping his wrapped ankle up on another chair.
"Works for me. I'm keeping my door open. Shout if you need anything."
"Thank you, Dr. Bayer," Alex said, claiming the chair next to Matthew's bandaged foot. He turned to Matthew once she was out of sight. "You know your mother is going to hear about this eventually, right?" He said. "She might have already."
"If she hasn't, she deserves a few more minutes of peace," Matthew said, bringing his uninjured leg onto the chair as well so he could more comfortably lounge. "You think there's a chance your uncle doesn't catapult me back to California?"
"He can't be that harsh on your first offence. Not when other students get a warning or less severe punishments for their firsts. You said it yourself; he knows you have the power to cause problems for him."
"On paper, this is my second," Matthew reminded him. "The fight at the party was my first. I used up my warning on that."
"But that wasn't-"
"I know that. No one else seemed to care, though."
"I care."
Matthew smiled and lightly kicked Alex's elbow. "I know that too."
"Even if that did count, there should be a steadier escalation than a warning straight into an expulsion."
"What, like three strikes? Oh, sorry, that's a baseball term. You know what baseball is, Allie?"
"Yes," Alex said, trying to sound annoyed around his smile. "And I'm familiar with the three strikes concept, too. I can also think of a fair number of our classmates who have gotten way more than three and haven't been kicked out yet."
"Does anyone ever get kicked out of here?"
"Yes. Rarely, but yes. Though I guess... most of the ones I can think of were relatively low on the totem pole. And a lot of the ones who should have been but weren't, their families are big donors."
"Or Farrows."
"Yeah."
"Or your fiancé."
"... Yeah."
"I get a perk for being your friend?"
A jolt went through Alex's body when Matthew said that. He was pretty sure that was the first time he had called him a friend so plainly. Calm down, AJ said. He had been silent for so long Alex had almost forgotten about him. He wanted to be annoyed, but AJ's condescending tone was strangely calming. Don't overreact, and please be normal about this.
"You stood up for me," Alex decided to say. "So, I'll stand up for you. If... if you need me to."
Matthew looked a little thrown that his playful question earned such an earnest reply. "Don't worry about it, Allie," he said after a few seconds. "As you said, standing up to some asshole teenager is one thing. Standing up to your uncle is another."
"But-"
"I don't want him to hurt you because of me again. So, don't worry about it. Please."
"...Okay."
"Besides," Matthew said with a shrug, "the worst thing about me getting expelled would be knowing your family felt like they beat me. And that's more of a me and my pride issue. Might fuck up my interview with Augustine though."
"Augustine?" Alex repeated, the name ringing a very faint bell in the back of his mind. "That's... that's the big Wyvern prep school in Los Angeles, right? Jack's fiancée goes there."
"Uh-huh."
"You have an interview with them? Like, for admittance?"
"Kind of. I first applied when I was in middle school, but my test score wasn't high enough. I ended up at the bottom of the waitlist. Studied like crazy and took it again last December. That's actually why I ended up applying here. Last year was the first time Conrad agreed to be part of their network."
"That's right," Alex muttered, barely remembering that was a thing. Augustine had been heading various efforts to make Wyvern schools a bit more unified, to varying degrees of success. One of their more popular programs was their universal application network. Check a box and they'll submit your base application and test scores to the other schools that were participating. Thomas had been against joining since they first asked almost a decade before, but he finally relented last year. In the hopes of boosting declining attendance with old-family students who weren't accepted to their first-choice schools. "Wait, did you not get into Augustine? With your perfect test score?"
"No, I did. But I didn't impress them enough in my scholarship interview back in January, and my folks couldn't even dream of affording that place without it. Then I started hearing back from every other school in the network, and Conrad was the only one who said no. Which got me feeling petty, and, well, you know how I get when I'm feeling petty. So, I requested my test scores to see how high their standards were. I wasn't expecting to find out I did that well."
"Which probably made you feel prettier, huh?"
"Yeah, petty is a word for it. You know I never planned on coming here, even after I started throwing my tantrum. I sort of had this fantasy of bothering you guys enough to send me an acceptance letter, and then telling you'll to fuck off and going somewhere else instead. But then they offered me the full ride. I didn't get that from anyone else. Felt like a waste to spit on that. Plus, I got a little high on the attention. Felt important enough to affect real change." Matthew paused and picked at some chipped paint on the wall. "Course right now it's hard to feel like anything has changed for the better. If I hadn't opened my mouth, then maybe..."
Matthew didn't finish the thought, but Alex could hear it. As loud as if he had shouted. If he hadn't convinced the school to admit him and all the other scholarship students, then maybe Baptiste would still be alive. Alex looked down at Matthew's hand, still scraped up from the couple of times he had punched Emilio, and reached out to grab it without thinking. He almost said, It's not your fault. But he had a feeling hearing that wouldn't do Matthew any good. At least, he knew it never made him feel any better when he was guilt-ridden over something. He was worried the silent gesture was going to creep Matthew out more than comfort him, but after a couple of seconds, he smiled and squeezed Alex's hand.
"Thanks, Alex," he said. "I know it's stupid, but..."
"It's not. I... I keep thinking about the things I could have done differently too."
"I don't know what's harder. Believing there was something I could have done or that it was just always beyond my control."
"I think they're the same. Different, but the same."
Matthew chuckled and let go of Alex's hand, but it was only to wipe away a tear that had managed to escape. He looked like he hesitated for a second before putting his hand back in his lap.
"You, um, said you got another interview with Augustine?" Alex said, feeling like he should change the subject.
"Yeah," Matthew said. "They contacted my mom a couple of weeks ago. Said they wanted to reconsider my scholarship application for the next academic year. I'm sure their change of mind has nothing to do with how much better they'll look if I ditch you guys for them."
"Surely."
"I have a phone interview at the end of October. Then an in-person one if it goes well. They're even going to send someone out here for it if it gets that far. They need to interview some faculty members about me too. That's, um, that's where I might be in trouble I guess."
"I'm sure not everyone hates you," Alex said, earning a sceptical look from Matthew. "Maybe you should make sure they interview Chef."
Matthew snorted out a laugh. "And only Chef," he added.
"Sanders likes you too."
"Not anymore."
"I think it's going to take more than this to get on his bad side."
"Hm. I guess he did give off more 'I'm not mad I'm just disappointed' vibes."
"Have you not managed to impress any of your other professors?"
"Baxter thinks I'm a know-it-all all. So does Professor Dunn."
"You have her for Trigonometry?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, I'm so sorry."
Matthew chuckled again. "She is something alright. Though to be fair I kind of am a know-it in their classes. And you know Montgomery hates me. Probably rightly so, but still. It hurts."
"It is not justified at all, Matthew. You aren't that bad. What about your music theory class? It's Professor Mills who teaches that right? He's not so bad."
"He's a little uptight. I keep my mouth shut but I think he can tell I'm not exactly a subscriber to his methods. Pearson isn't bad. I have her for history. I'm pretty sure Alvaro hates me."
"Everyone thinks that, but I think... he has a good heart. Yesterday Sanders told me he used to be a Wyvern youth counselor."
"Speaking of him and Sanders," Matthew said, leaning forward with a smirk, "are they, like a thing? Like maybe I'm just making assumptions but-"
"I got that feeling from them too."
"I'm surprised I haven't heard any rumours about them. At my old school, there were these two teachers that everyone was convinced had started dating. We all gossiped about it. We didn't get confirmation until they broke up and she was caught keying his car on the parking lot security camera."
"Wow."
"I know, right? Like Jesus, woman, you knew the cameras were there, pick a better time and place to do it."
"I'm not sure that should be the takeaway from that incident."
"So, you think they're a couple?"
"It's not our business."
"Well, yeah. That's what makes Chisme so fun, Allie."
"It's just... if they are, there's probably a reason no one knows."
"I thought old families were supposed to be 'above' human hang-ups about same-sex relationships."
"I wouldn't say it's that simple. But that's also not why old families would have a problem with their relationship."
"... Fair point," Matthew said with a sigh. "God, that's so stupid, though."
"It's not something I imagine will change any time soon. At least..."
"At least what?"
"Well, they seem happy. Whatever they are. They seem happy together."
"Yeah, I guess they do... You're quite the romantic, aren't you?" Alex heated up, then tried not to heat up more when Matthew's smile told him he could feel it. "You don't need to be embarrassed. I just wasn't expecting it."
"Shut up."
"It's cute."
"Please shut up."
"Whatever you are saying to him, Mr. Montoya, stop," Dr. Bayer called from her office. "It's 18 degrees outside, I do not need a furnace running in my waiting room."
"Fine, fine," Matthew said, looking too pleased with himself. "I'll tell you about the Rocky movies instead. Buckle in, there are five."