Erik flicked his stylus so that it rolled halfway up his desk and then rolled back against his finger. He flicked it again, impatiently snatching it up and began to doodle on his tablet.

He had been distracted the entire day. By fourth period he could barely keep his eyes open. Every time he paused to remember the events of last night, all he could think of was Conner. Conner in his jacket, Conner kneeling in front of him, pressed against him in the locker, injured in his arms—

Erik whipped the stylus into the window with a loud clatter. He put his face in his hands as he heaved a sigh. He could hear students turning to look at him, murmurs breaking out. He didn’t care.

Footsteps approached him, a hand on his desk. Erik looked up at his economics professor drearily. She had a worried look on her face, her eyes enlarged by her thick circular glasses. “Mr. Delahunt, please see me after class.”

Erik groaned. “Ms. I already have to attend a mandatory seminar after school—”

“Just ten minutes,” she said, patting his desk. She gave him a sympathetic look, returning to the front of the classroom.

The bell rang, Erik sluggishly packing up his school bag as everyone else around him got up from their seat. He caught a glance from Tim at front of the classroom, waving his cellphone at Erik. ‘Text me,’ he mouthed.

Erik nodded, waiting for the classroom to empty before he grabbed his bag, stood, and walked over to Ms. Rajabalin’s desk. “Yes ma’am?” he asked, feeling how heavy his eyelids were.

She clasped her hands together, placing them on top of one of Erik’s papers he had handed in a few days ago. “Erik, I’m worried about you,” she said, frowning. “I understand with your father not being well—”

“Is there anything you need from me, ma’am?” Erik asked, curtly, trying not to let his temper get the best of him.

She sighed, looking at his paper, “Your work here assessing the position of primes in the workplace is excellent, very well researched. You're such an intelligent pupil, I know you’ve worked exceptionally hard to be here, Erik. But, getting probation while on scholarship…? I just don’t want to see things escalate. If you need to talk to anyone, my door is open.”

Erik nodded, gritting his teeth. His hand tightened over the strap of his shoulder bag. “Thank you, ma’am. May I go?”

She looked at Erik for a moment, slightly disappointed. She nodded, saying quietly, “Yes, you may.”

Erik stepped out of the room briskly, seeing that he had missed three messages from Conner.

He read them over, typing…

He hurried through the halls, reaching Conner’s classroom. He knocked on the open door, seeing Conner sitting alone, the room completely empty save for him. Erik looked around, “Where’s your professor?” he asked, weaving through the desks.

“Making photocopies,” Conner said, casting his hazel eyes towards the ground. He grabbed his crutches, slowly standing before Erik could reach out to assist him. “I can’t believe they still use paper here. Tree-killers.”

Erik smiled as he helped him pack his textbooks into his bag, throwing it over his shoulder. “What about Jannet?”

Conner grimaced, clearing his throat. “She has hockey try outs…” his voice was oddly quiet as he added, “I told her I fell…she knew I was lying, and now I think she’s mad at me.”

Erik nodded, registering his gloomy disposition. “You can tell her if you want, I don’t mind, and I’m sure Anthony wouldn’t. She’s probably feeling alone with everything that’s going on with Charlotte,” Erik’s eyes gave Conner a careful glance, “She doesn’t know what we know.”

Conner nodded, looking up at him sadly. “I’m sorry if I bothered you today,” he said weakly.

Erik shook his head, waiting for Conner to catch up as the two of them made their way towards the lecture hall for their mandatory seminar on 'behaviour'. “You didn’t, I’m just really tired. I couldn’t respond much,” he said. He wasn't sure if it was honest, since he'd actively been trying to avoid thinking of Conner. 

Erik looked down at him, thinking back to him lying in bed. His pulse jumped. He snatched his eyes away, his muscles tensing.

As they reached the lecture hall, Erik held the door open for Conner. The dean was standing at the front of the room, several students already seated in desks, including Anthony near the front. Erik felt his entire body set on edge as he locked eyes with Mike Farley, who was already sneering at Conner.

“Thank you for joining us Mr. Delahunt," Mr. Nielson looked at Conner coldly as he added, "Mr. Voss.”

Conner stared at the dean, surprised as he heard his last name, eyes widening. 

The students in the room looked at Conner, too, Mike’s mouth dropping open as he said, “Shut up—”

“Eyes forward, Michael,” Mr. Nielson said, returning to his interrupted speech, outlining the behaviour analysis they were all about to take.

Erik pulled out the chair for Conner, dropping their bags and sitting beside him. Erik’s eyes slid to where Conner was staring intently at his desk. “Voss?” Erik whispered.

Conner blinked up at him, his brows furrowed.

“As in, Theodore Voss?” Erik had never realized that—up until that point—he had never known Conner’s last name.

Conner nodded, whispering in return, “He’s my grandfather—”

“Now, it’s quite a lengthy assessment,” Mr. Nielson called, his voice drowning out Conner’s, “You’ll have as much time as you need, but be advised, you will not be allowed to leave until you honestly complete every question and I evaluate it, as well as discuss the appropriate answers to the questionaire portion.”

Erik didn’t have time to respond as Mr. Nielson began handing out the thick stacks of papers. Erik couldn’t help but think of Conner’s anger as he called his professor a ‘tree-killer’. Sure enough, Conner was scowling, enraged as he rifled through the numerous papers.

There was unbearable silence in the room, save for the irritating scratching of pens on paper. Erik was shocked as he looked up at the clock, seeing it had only been an hour, though Erik could have sworn it had been more.

Everyone looked up as Mr. Nielson stood. “I’ll be right back,” he said, “and don’t think I won’t know if you start talking.”

As soon as the door closed there was an uproar of voices, Michael and few others of his posse sauntering towards where Conner was sitting. “I always knew you were so rich you shit gold, but, you’re a Voss, are you?” Michael chided, placing his hands on Conner’s desk and leaning in towards him. "You never told me; we were roommates last year,” he grinned at Conner, “I'm offended. Though I suppose that wasn't the only thing you kept hidden-”

Erik stood up, mimicking Michael’s posture as he stared him down, “Back off, Mike.”

Michael scoffed at Erik, an arrogant snarl in his grin. “Ooo, protecting the rich kid, eh Delahunt?”

“You’re all rich kids,” Erik sneered, refusing to back down, “you're just the only prick.”

“What ever I am, I'm not the heir to Prime Industries,” Mike’s face was offensively close to Conner’s now. “And so what?" He looked at Conner, Conner keeping his eyes down as Mike said, “You deserve it. Your daddy invented the things that stole our jobs!”

Someone gasped, even's Mike friends looking taken aback. One of the students put a hand on Mike's shoulder, whispering, “C'mon man, you can't say stuff like that-”

“Why not? It's true,” Mike said, standing his ground. 

Erik’s body tensed, freezing as Conner pulled on his sleeve. He saw Conner looking away as he said, “Hey, come on, just leave it.”

Erik was about to sit down when Michael laughed, “Yeah, that’s right. Better listen to your girlfriend there Del—”

Conner let out a shout as Erik jumped the desk, grabbed hold of Michael’s collar, and punched him square in the jaw.