As Matthew was in the middle of his detailed retelling of Rocky III, the front desk phone started ringing. Nurse Clara, who had come back from her break halfway through the first film's synopsis, answered it. After her greeting, her very professional "Yes, sir," gave Alex a feeling it wasn't Sanders on the other end of the line.
"Headmaster Conrad is waiting for you at Sanders' office," she told them after she hung up. "Good luck."
"What do you think would happen if we tried to make a run for it?" Matthew said as he precariously stood up on one leg.
"You wouldn't get very far," Alex said as Nurse Clara shook her head and entered a supply closet between filing cabinets. She came back with two silver crutches.
"Try not to injure yourself during your grand escape," she said as Matthew fixed them under his arms. She called out to them again as they went out the door. "And Matthew? If you want to decrease your chances of getting kicked out, I recommend you act contrary to your instincts, yeah?"
"Noted. See ya on the other side, Ms. Clara."
Classes had ended for the day by the time they got out, so there were a fair number of students milling around the campus. As they slowly made their way back to the pitch, Alex spotted a familiar head of curly hair among them. Ellie. She was walking briskly, looking like she was headed straight for the science building. She stopped in her tracks when she spotted Matthew and Alex, then all but ran right at them.
"Matthew!" she said, barely stopping her momentum in time to not crash into him. Her expression was a mix of anger and concern. "Oh my God, you look awful."
"You should see the other guy," Matthew said with a very convincing bravado. Ellie frowned and narrowed her eyes.
"I did. He's not a got scratch on him. And this isn't a joke. Dick." Ellie accentuated her statement by punching his arm, making him wince. Any anger in her eyes flashed away, and she gently patted the spot she had hit. "Shit, sorry."
"All good. It was gonna bruise anyway."
"You saw Emilio?" Alex asked.
"Yeah. Mikayla and I went to Coach Sander's office to talk about the vigil, and I saw him sitting in there. I'd been hearing rumours that you two fought all last class, but I didn't believe it until I saw him. Stupid me thought you would know better than that."
"Well hopefully you'll know better than to have such unfounded faith in me in the future," Matthew said, earning another smack to his arm. "Ow."
"I'm not sorry for that one," Ellie said, turning to Alex. "Edward Knoll is in my Spanish class, he said you'd gotten your nose broken."
"It was just bleeding," Alex said. "I'm fine."
"Emilio hit you?"
Alex said, "No," right as Matthew said, "Yes."
"He kicked a ball," Alex clarified. "It hit me in the face."
"He did it on purpose," Matthew added. "And never apologized."
"Yeah, and I'm sure you letting him beat you up has certainly motivated him to change his ways," Ellie said.
"I'm sorry, was I just supposed to let him get away with it?"
"You're supposed to have enough self-restraint to not swing at someone the second they call you a bitch."
"Hey, that's not why I did it. And why are you all mad at me?"
"Because we care about you, stupid. And you look like you were hit by a truck!"
"I think I'd look a little more banged up if I-" Matthew started, but stopped when Alex elbowed him in the side. He looked back over Eloise, at her shaking hands and shining eyes, and sighed. "Right. Sorry. That I made you worry. Not that I did it. But... I'll try to think a bit more critically in the future."
Eloise glared at him for a couple more seconds before moving forward to wrap Matthew in a fiercely gentle hug. "Next time you do it you better win," she mumbled into his shoulder.
"Well, hopefully, I'll be around for a next time."
Ellie pulled back and looked at him with a scrunched brow. "What do you mean?"
"We're headed back to Sanders. Thomas Conrad is there to give me my sentence. I've got a feeling he's going take the chance to get rid of me."
"After one fight?"
"Two, technically."
Ellie shook her head. "No, he won't be able to get away with that," she said, looking at Alex. "Right?"
"I'd hope he's smarter than that," Alex said. "I doubt either of you getting expelled would be best for the atmosphere right now."
"I guess I shouldn't make you keep him waiting, then," Ellie muttered, stepping away. "I'm going to go ask Dr. Bayer if she'd like to be our second chaperone for the vigil. So, you've got to stick around, okay?"
"Yeah. Okay."
"I love you, Matt."
"I know," he said with a smirk. Ellie shook her head and smacked his arm one last time, light enough for it to not hurt him. Before she walked off, she grabbed Alex's hand and squeezed it.
"Good luck, bhai," she said. The sound of that word choked Alex up so much that all he could do in response was nod.
"What did she call you?" Matthew asked once she was gone.
"Brother," Alex explained, his chest filling with a quiet warmth rather than the intense heat from his powers. "Little brother, specifically."
"Ah," Matthew said as they continued their trek. "Wait, are you younger than her? What year were you born, '77?"
"Yes."
"When's your birthday?"
"April 1st."
Matthew blinked at Alex for a second before a grin crept onto his lips. "Wait, really?" he said, around a giggle. "April Fool's Day?"
"Appropriate, I know, since my life is a joke," Alex said, not even attempting to keep back the very AJ-style quip. Matthew snorted out another laugh, and that warmth in Alex's chest came back.
I changed my mind, AJ said. We need to stop making him do that. You are not sane enough to handle it.
"You are older than her then," Matthew said as Alex told AJ to shove it inside his head. "Hers is May 29th."
"When's yours?"
"October 31st. But I'm '76, so you best respect your elder, young man."
"Jack is older than you, are you going to respect him too then?"
"What? By how much?"
"His is May 13th. Also '76."
"Five months? That is not nearly enough for me to care."
Alex did the math in his head between their birthdays. "That is the same difference between us."
"What's your point junior?"
Alex shook his head, then spent the rest of the walk putting too much effort into etching Matthew's birthday into his memory. When they finally made it to the locker room, the door to Coach Sander's office was closed. They could both hear muffled voices from behind it, loud enough for them to be able to figure it was Thomas and Sanders, but not clearly enough to make out what they were saying.
Emilio was no longer in the office, instead sitting on one of the locker room benches with his arms crossed over his chest. He turned his head when Alex and Matthew walked in, and for a second his mouth ticked up into a smug grin when he saw the state Matthew was in. Alex's body flashed with a surge of heat, but somehow he managed to keep from igniting himself or anything else long enough for Emilio to have the sense to try and hide the grin.
Matthew's right, AJ said, you are being too nice letting him off the hook.
Alex didn't argue with that. He knew it was true. But not because of the ball to his face. That was inconsequential, and not worth putting up a fight over. But something else was. So as Matthew ignored Emilio and took a seat by the bench closest to the entrance, Alex walked over to him on shaky legs.
"Alex?" Matthew said, his voice slightly on edge. "What are you doing?"
"Si, su majestad," Emilio said, his voice taunting. "How can I help you?"
Matthew growled under his breath and made a move to get up, but Alex held a hand out to stop him. "It's fine, Matthew," he said. "I've got this." Matthew didn't look convinced, but he stayed put. Alex took a deep breath and tried his best to keep his voice from shaking as he spoke to Emilio. "You can say whatever you want about me, Emilio. My family, too, though I'd keep that up at your own risk."
"That a threat?" Emilio said. Alex ignored him.
"But Matthew's not got anything to do with the conspiracies you're chasing. He is not my dog, and his values cannot be bought."
"You expect me to believe he would go from cursing you out to kissing your boots in a couple of days without you promising him something? Without you giving him something?"
"I'm not naïve enough to think I can change your mind with nothing but a stern talking to. But it's only basic decency to not say such cruel things about someone with no proof. Especially someone who you called a friend less than a week ago."
Emilio glanced back at Matthew, who had both his crutches primed under his arms like he was ready to get up any second. "We were never friends," he muttered in Spanish. "Just soldiers on the same side of a war. And traitors do not deserve decency." He looked back at Alex with cold eyes. "Neither do overgrown eyesores like you and your breed."
"Alright, that's it," Matthew growled, making a move to stand. Before Alex could talk him down, Sanders' office door creaked open. Alex instinctively skirted away from Emilio, as if he was breaking a rule just by standing near him, and took a hasty seat next to Matthew.
When the door swung open all the way, Thomas was the first to walk out, with Sanders close behind him. Sanders looked tired, but Thomas's expression was hard to read. He had the same habit as Alex's mother of using a stoic face to express every emotion. He didn't even look at Emilio, who was glaring at him with murderous intent. He just made a straight line for Matthew and Alex.
"I can't help but notice you look to be in far worse shape than after your last altercation, Mr. Montoya," he said. "Is there some grand tale of woe you would like to spin this time as well?"
Alex heated up with a flash of anger, but Matthew just smiled. "No, sir," he said, putting an elbow up on Alex's shoulder.
"Mr. Guerrero said you threw the first punch."
"I did."
"Care to explain yourself?"
"Will you listen to me this time?"
"Matthew," Sanders said in a warning tone. "Tell him what happened.
Matthew rolled his eyes. "Emi was talking shit," he said. "I got mad and hit him. He kicked the crap out of me in response. It was just an argument between two stubborn idiots. Happens all the time in sports, right?"
"So that's what it was about? Your game?"
"Yup."
Thomas looked over to Emilio. "Your classmate claims the same," he said, pausing before looking back to Alex. "Is this true, Alexander?"
"Y-yes," Alex said, trying his best to sound convincing. "They were just arguing about the game."
"And your injury was just a result of the sport as well."
"Yes. It was an accident."
Sanders put a hand on Emilio's shoulder. "For which someone would like to apologize," he said. "Right?"
Emilio shrugged off Sanders' hand, looking pained by the thought. But he sighed and spoke through gritted teeth. "Lo siento, little Conrad," he said. "I need to work on my aim."
"It's alright," Alex said. "I'll... try to work on ducking."
Thomas's eyes flitted between the three of them, not looking at all convinced that was the whole story. But after a moment of hesitation, he let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine," he said, waving his hand at Sanders. "Since this spat occurred in your realm, Alan, I'll leave the fallout to you."
"Thank you, sir," Sanders said. "I appreciate your trust in me. I'll make sure they both learn their lesson."
Thomas vaguely nodded at Sanders and made his way to the exit, looking down at Matthew one more time before he went. "I'd recommend you find a better way to resolve disputes, Mr. Montoya," he said. "Twice is a coincidence. Thrice is a pattern. Understand?"
"Three strikes you're out," Matthew said, still wearing a smile. "Got it, sir."
Thomas glared at him for a second more before nodding at Alex. "Alexander. May I have a word?"
No thanks, AJ said as Alex's skin crawled. We're good.
Thomas didn't wait for an answer, he just continued out the door with the expectation that Alex would follow. As Alex stood up, Matthew shot his hand out to grab his own. He held it tight, and Alex could tell his mind had immediately gone back to that day in the admin building. The last time he watched Alex go off to talk to his uncle alone.
"It's fine," Alex said, mostly trying to convince himself. His legs felt heavy though, and he didn't want to let go of Matthew's hand.
Sanders came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Prop the door open," he said in Hindi. "And stay in sight. Your uncle is like a child who only behaves when he is being watched."
Alex's nerves eased at the sound of the language, and at the fact that he didn't even need to put in extra effort to understand the words. He nodded and gave Matthew a small smile before sliding out of his grip and walking out the door. He used the wooden wedge by the entrance to prop it open and went to meet his uncle who he was waiting in the middle of the pitch.
As Alex got close, he could see Thomas noticed the open door, and Sanders leaning against the doorframe to watch them. Annoyance flitted across his face, but he didn't say anything about it. He didn't seem to be too offended about being seen so long as they were not heard.
"Have you forgotten what the purpose of you being assigned as Montoya's flatmate was, Alexander?" he said once Alex was close.
"To make him trust us?" Alex said, keeping as much distance as he thought he could get away with too. "By being personable?"
"It was to keep him in line. To help us stop him from creating more chaos than he already has!"
"It was a fight over football, not a riot in the courtyard."
Thomas rolled his eyes. "You know your father was always a terrible liar too," he said. "It's the only reason he never bothered with it."
"Why does it matter to you what they fought about anyways?"
"It doesn't. I couldn't care less what two runts are butting heads over. This isn't about them, it's about you. About how you don't seem to understand where your allegiances lie. First, you try to throw Greene under the bus just because he gave Montoya a little scare. Now you toss aside your precious need for the truth to cover for him."
"My mother told me to gain his trust," Alex said, his voice shaking slightly. "To prove to him we're not his enemy. That's a little hard to do if I don't make some attempts to get on his good side. If you've got a problem maybe you should take it up with my mother for not giving me a better mission briefing."
"Oh, don't act like following orders has been your motivation for any of this. I know what you think. Our structure is too rigid, our traditions are too outdated. It's just like Utkarsh. That's why his family shipped him off to be our problem. Great model, by the way. A pinnacle of sanity, that one."
"Keep my father's name out of your mouth," AJ snapped. Alex didn't realize until Thomas's eyes widened that no, he had said that. What was that, three times now? Alex took a step back, ready to blurt out an apology, but it got stuck in his throat. No, he wasn't sorry. And he wasn't going to apologize. Instead, he held himself steady and stared down his uncle with a challenge in his eyes.
Thomas moved to close the distance between them, his face still a blank mask. This time Alex fought the urge to move away and held his ground, trying not to tremble as his uncle leaned in close. "Rumors are to be expected with any suspicious death," he said, his voice unnervingly steady. "But rumours are inconsequential to me. They so infrequently become truth. These rumours those runts are whispering will stay just that, and you will do nothing to change that. Today was your second strike as well, Alexander. One more and maybe I will have a conversation with your mother. Understand?"
"... Yes, sir," Alex said, a part of him hoping the drips of malice he could taste on his tongue came across in his tone. If they did, his uncle didn't react.
"Good." Thomas straightened up, then started to walk away with his hands in his pockets. "Oh, and by the way," he said without turning around. "Your mother hired a Japanese tutor. You start on Saturday, after Spanish."
Thomas didn't stick around to make sure Alex heard him. He had sounded annoyed that he needed to relay the message in the first place. "... Cool," Alex said once the pitch was empty. "It'll be real handy to be able to say, 'Guess I'll go fuck myself' in another language."
Alex turned to go back to the locker room, where Sanders was still waiting by the open door. "You alright, lad?" he said once Alex was close.
"You talked my uncle into not expelling them, didn't you?" Alex said.
"He was already on the fence in the first place. I'd say I gave him a nudge. And someone to blame it on, if they cause more trouble." Sanders turned to glare at Matthew and Emilio, who were silently glaring at each other from their respective benches. "Which they won't. Right?"
The two half-heartedly grunted in response.
"Thank you," Alex said. "And sorry, for giving you a headache over this."
"That's very kind of you, Mr. Conrad," Sanders said loudly. "To apologize for something you did not fault in, especially when neither of those jackasses have even thought to."
"Sorry, Coach," Emilio and Matthew said at the same time.
"Means less when I need to ask for it, but I'll take it. Now, what should your punishment be? What do you think, Alexander?"
"Jack got stable cleaning duty when he hit me," Alex said. "I think it helped build his character."
"Ugh, please no," Matthew said. "That mare named Popcorn talks my ear off every time I get near her."
"If I am left alone with Montoya and horse shit," Emilio muttered, "I make no promises about my behaviour."
"Fuck you too."
"Oh, you two are not being left alone together ever again," Sanders said. "I'm already talking with Professor Carlisle about switching you to my morning class, Guerrero. Alright, one of you gets the stables, and the other gets the chess club."
Alex winced at the second option as Emilio and Matthew raised their eyebrows. "Chess club?" Emilio said. "How is that a punishment, beyond having to play chess?"
"Which do you think would be better suited for it, Alexander?" Sanders asked, ignoring the question.
"Oh, pick me," Matthew whispered loudly. "Me."
"You don't want it, mate," Alex said. "Chess club is-"
"No, no, no," Sanders interrupted with a smile. "If he wants it, let him have it. Besides, he'll get mad at me if he has to deal with Guerrero's attitude for a month. Alright, starting on Monday, Guerrero will report to the stables after the last period. Montoya, you'll be going to Alvaro's for chess club."
Matthew frowned as Emilio grinned. "Alvaro?" Matthew said. "Wait, can I-"
"No takebacks," Emilio said, quickly getting to his feet. "Can I go now?"
"Bail on your punishment and I'll kick you out of here myself, got it?"
"Por supuesto, jefe," Emilio said, giving Matthew a cheeky wave. "Adios, idiota."
"Come back and say that to my face, dickwad!" Matthew said, struggling to stand up as Emilio all but skipped out of the locker room.
"He did," Alex pointed out. "He looked you directly in the eye."
"Alvaro? Seriously? That guy hates me."
"I tried to warn you. Chess club is code for after-school detention with Alvaro."
"Why the fuck do you need a code for that? Just say detention."
"Ilyas started it," Sanders explained. "A lot of parents try to strongarm any teachers who want to discipline their students for smaller infractions. Ilyas got them to leave him alone by telling them their students weren't being given detention, they were just being asked to attend chess club meetings."
"That's stupid."
"Very. But it works. I oversee the etymology club."
"Will I even get to play chess?"
"Maybe. Depends on how much torture he thinks you deserve."
"Is... is playing chess the torture?"
Sanders ignored the question and went over to his office, grabbing what Alex realized were his and Matthew's bookbags from inside. "Be at his classroom Monday," Sanders said, handing both bags to Alex. "Ditch at your own risk."
"I don't like how you didn't answer me."
"And I don't like how you're still here even though my workday was supposed to end forty minutes ago."
"Wow," Matthew said, feigning offence as he propped himself up with his crutches. "So cruel. Aren't you supposed to become a teacher because you love kids, Sanders?"
"Really? I was under the impression it was what you do when nothing else works out. My bad."
Matthew bit back a smile and made his way to the exit. "Fine," he huffed through the effort of using the crutches. "Let's leave the grumpy old man alone, Allie."
"Thank you, Coach," Alex said, putting his bag over his shoulder and holding Matthew in his arms. "I know you risk a lot, doing things that might upset my uncle."
"Oh, I'd say most of the time I don't get that close to upsetting him. I've gotten quite good at knowing how to figure out what old family wyverns want to hear. To be honest..." Sanders trailed off for a second, suddenly very interested in a spot on the floor. "Well, I owe you an apology, don't I? For not doing more to upset your uncle."
"I... It's okay. Really. You don't need to feel bad about it."
"No, I do. Montoya is right. We're supposed to love you kids, but we let you down more often than not. Don't be so hesitant to hold all of us adults to better standards, alright?"
"... Yeah. Okay."
"I can tell you at least thirteen things you could be doing better," Matthew interrupted.
"Feel free to share them with my colleague on Monday," Sanders said, gently pushing both Alex and Matthew out the door. "Goodbye now."
Once the two were clear of the doorway, Sanders moved the wedge so that the heavy door shut behind them. Matthew turned to Alex with a smirk on his lips.
"Was it just me," he started, "or did Sanders hesitate before he said, colleague?"
"I think you imagined it," Alex said, shifting Matthew's bookbag in his arms. "This is too heavy, how have you not broken your spine yet?"
"Sounded to me like he stopped himself from saying, husband."
"You imagined that. And it's still not our business. What do you have in here?"
Matthew rolled his eyes and put both his crutches in his left hand, supporting his weight on that side so he could grab the backpack. "Fine, you don't like gossip," he said as he looped one arm through a strap. "I'll share my theories with Ellie, then."
"Why are you so invested anyway?"
Matthew shrugged once his backpack was on. "I don't know. Maybe I'm a bit of a romantic too. I mean, if they managed to get over all the baggage and build a relationship like that, then... Well, maybe there's hope for the rest of us. Right?"
Matthew smiled at Alex over his shoulder, and Alex swore he felt his chest tighten. "Right," he said, keeping pace with Matthew as he started on a route to the library. "Maybe."