“Ten, you’ve gotta calm down.”

“Fuck off, I’ve been holding out for far too long. Fuckers should have gotten this a day ago.”

Terry and Wade trail behind me as I speed walk down the second-floor Morge hall. I had been waiting patiently to enact revenge but because I had to actually figure out who did it, it took a while. And then I had to wait for Noah to fall asleep.

“It’s that room.” Wade points to a door on the right and I don’t bother knocking.

“Shit!” Terry squeaks as I kick open the door.

“Wake up fuckers.”

I watch as the three guys blink awake, realize what’s about to happen, and scramble out of bed.

“Which one of you is Jensen?”

One of the guys glances quickly at the red-haired guy, and I take that as an answer. I slowly walk up to him and grab him by the throat, and throw him to the ground.

“Now, you’ve messed up, haven’t you?”

I begin punching downwards, slamming his face side to side with my fists. I hear the other two CAUs approaching me only to be stopped by my friends. I hear punches being thrown. I wish I could watch them all suffer but I’m too focused on the guy that took to Noah’s face. I was told that he initiated it and was the leader. I told Terry and Wade that if they weren’t going to let me do it myself, at least let me have at him.

“What did I do?” He yells, blood from his mouth splattering all over me. I don’t answer. I can’t. My arms are moving and I’m too blinded by the deepest kind of rage.

“Ten! You’ll kill him!”

And the scariest part is that I want to. I want him to die. I want to be the one that kills him. I want-

Terry starts pulling at my arm, trying to stop me.

I stop punching and grab his throat with both of my hands, “You hurt him.”

“Ten. Please.” Wade is scared.

I watch the guy’s face begin to turn colors. “You touched him.” 

“Ten, Noah doesn’t want this.”

And then, as his eyes begin to close, I let go and allow him the oxygen his body is craving. He clutches his neck and coughs frantically. I stand up and see the other two boys on the floor, passed out. Merciful bastards. We leave the room, letting them recover from the attack. When we step out, every door is opened with CAUs standing, staring.

“Don’t fuck with us,” I warn.

And then we leave.

Noah

When I enter the training room, something’s off. Everyone stops and stares at me. I hear people whispering and staring at me. I try to figure out what’s going on when I see him. His face is fucked far beyond mine. Jensen, the guy who did most of my lovely welcoming. I go over to some guy I don’t know and ask, “What happened?”

He looks at me and laughs, “You’ve made a friend, it would seem.”

“What?”

He points to Jensen’s face, “That artwork was done by Ten. You’ve made a powerful friend, congrats.”

Shit. SHIT.

I turn and run out of the gym. 

When I get to the CCIU, he spots me first.

“Noah. How nice of you-“

“Shut up, come with me.”

I turn my back on him and let him follow me out of the building. I march angrily until we get somewhere mostly private, though, nothing outdoors is really private. When I stop, he stops. I don’t look him in the eyes, I can’t.

“What’s up?”

“‘What’s up?’ Are you serious?” I grab his right hand, bruised beyond the typical training bruises. I hold it up between us. But when I look into his eyes, there is no sign of shame or regret.

“I’m not going to apologize.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

And then there is this heavy silence between us for a reason I can’t quite make out. I just stare into his eyes, trying to find some kind of answer. But all I see is blue. I suddenly realize that I’m still holding his hand but I don’t let go. I don’t really want to.

“I know you said you didn’t want to make a thing of it but I couldn’t,” there’s a strain in his voice, “let it go. They hurt my friend and I wasn’t going to let that be the end of it.”

And I want to be mad. I want to tell him to never talk to me again. I want to tell him that I can fight my own battles. But I don’t because no one has ever fought for me. No one has ever tried to protect me. And as selfish and messed up as it might be, it felt good. 

And I realized what I was feeling was not anger that he did what he did, but the fact that he put himself at risk when he didn’t have to. And for the dumbest reason: me. But I don’t know how to say that. I don’t know how to tell him that that’s why I’m mad. So I don’t say anything and just continue to hold his hand. I watch as he becomes aware that I haven’t let his hand go. He looks back up at me and searches for something, perhaps permission, because he slowly laces his finger through mine. The silence becomes heavier. Thick and intoxicating, so much is unsaid, so much not understood.

“But…I’m sorry if it caused you more negative feelings. I just wanted to protect you and you told me I couldn’t tell The General so this was the only way I knew how and-“

I don’t let him finish because I don’t really care about his apology. As I said, I didn’t ask for one. Instead, I unlace our fingers and reach my arms up and around his shoulders and pull him into a hug. He’s still for a moment before wrapping his arms around me, pulling me closer. I nuzzle my head into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent, appreciating the closeness. I feel tears well in my eyes and I blink away the wetness. Nineteen years. Nineteen years and I don’t remember receiving a single hug. I hold him tighter and a strangled noise escapes from his mouth. I try to say something, but the only words that I manage to get out are “Thank you.”

I remove my hands and try to step away but he pulls me back in, arms now around my waist, hugging me even tighter than before.

“Anytime…Anything.” 

And for all the times I questioned his intentions, this wasn’t one of them. I believed him. I trusted him. 

* * *

Dinner was different than it had been. This time, Ten sat next to me, thighs almost touching, and I actually interacted with the guys. Not a crazy amount, but more than I had been. We discussed different training exercises and which ones we disliked the most. I hated lifting weights. Wade and Terry hated running. Ten doesn’t hate anything which isn’t surprising. Ten and I decided that we would run every morning together. We both didn’t like listening to music during our run so the company would be nice. Though, Ten would have to slow down if he wanted to stay at my pace. Wade told us that his thing with Maddy wasn’t going well because Ten told her he was gay and she figured out that Wade was behind it. I held back my comments during that discussion.

But some things were the same. I had sat down before getting food and when I finally thought to get, a tray was placed down in front of me. Ten seemed to love making sure that I stayed nourished which was weird and mother-like, but I didn’t mind it. I don’t think I’d ever admit to it, but I liked it. Being cared for was something I had never experienced and if Ten was willing to give me that, I wasn’t going to object. Terry mocked Ten for his actions and we all laughed together at how ridiculous he is. After the mocking, he mumbled, “It’s not gonna change anything,” and I pretend not to be relieved.

I meet some more guys. Jerome, a massive fully tatted man who seemed to not be able to call anyone anything other than “dude.” Another guy, Kody Pike, the one who I watched Ten fight, spoke about how he learned a new move that could surely give him an advantage over Ten. Everyone at the table laughed in disbelief.

Towards the end of the meal, I asked them if this was normal. You know, a CAU sitting with the Cyabts. They all shrugged and said it doesn’t matter what you are. Ten told me that it wasn’t actually a CAU sitting with the Cybats, it was a Cybat sitting with a Cybat. It was the first time I heard him say something like that. I turned to him and asked him what he meant. He only poked at his food and said, “You’re a Cybat.” I let it go but made a mental note to ask him about that.

We also talked about my new Instagram. Wade changed my bio to include “account run by @tenoutof10” and I didn’t object. If he wanted to, I’d let him. They also tried to convince me to post a shirtless picture because it would get me followers. I argued that I already have over five hundred and I don’t need anymore. We ended up taking a group picture, Jerome, having the longest hands, holding the phone. Ten posted it with the caption, “Just vibing,” and tagged all of the guys. 

I finally felt normal—like I belonged. I didn’t know how lonely I had been feeling until now.

After dinner, some of the guys went back to their rooms but I needed to go to the library to do some work. Ten offered to come with me but I told him he should go get some rest. He seemed pained by it, but he went back to the room. I walked to the library slowly, appreciating the nighttime Nevada breeze.

I sat my the work stations and began writing out some notes on the Kaplan book.

“Noah, is it?”

I turn to see a familiar-looking guy smiling at me. “Yeah..”

“Jack Nuwborn, fellow CAU.” He puts out his hand and I shake it wearily. I remember what Ten said about him; “Maybe stay clear. He’s trouble.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around.” I try to avoid eye contact, hoping he would get the hint and leave. He doesn’t.

“I’m hard to miss.”

“Hm.”

“Anyways, sorry to hear about your rough going with Jensen and his bitches. They never could deal with competition. But, lucky you to have Ten on your side.”

“Yep.” Lucky indeed.

“Speaking of, has he mentioned me?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” I really want this conversation to end.

He pulls a chair over and sits next to me. Ugh, guess I’m not getting out of this. “Well, we had a very nice time together, though, it was interrupted. But I keep making advances and he isn’t taking the bait.”

I hadn’t known he had hooked up with Jack, but I guess it makes sense. Jack is very attractive and seems very into him. “He’s said he’s cooling it this year.” I fight back a blush as I think back the revealing conversation.

“Oh like hell he is.”

I shrug, “That’s what he said.”

“But he’s got it perfect. His own room and everything-“

“He’s sharing a room this year.”

Jack’s face is almost humorous. “What the fuck? With who?”

“Me.”

“You? What? Why?” He seems thoroughly disturbed by this news.

“I needed to switch rooms. Ten offered.”

He looks at me, no glares at me and says, “Are you guys fucking?”

“What? No.”

“Oh. Well, damn, congrats on that.”

“Thank you?”

“I mean, fuck, if I shared a room with him…” he trails off in some kind of fantasy and a moment later he continues, “That is a real man, Jesus. I mean, he just is…yummy. Like, fuck. Have you seen him naked? I mean, how could you ever say no to that. Perfection, truly.” He bites down on his lip, presumably remembering Ten.

“Okay.”

“Oh. You’re not into that? Hell, even if I was straight I might have to change it up for that.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“Sure it does. Well, it’s goddamn late. Would you tell him to text me? Thanks.” And he leaves. 

I spend another two hours working and then head back to the room.

When I open the door, Ten is laying in bed, body half wrapped in a towel. He must have just showered.

He looks up at me and smiles, “You’re back!”

It was nice to have someone excited to see me. “Jack Nuwborn says to text him.”

“Fuck.”

“Seems to be what he wants.”

Ten laughs and stands up, bare upper body on full display, slightly damp skin glistening under the fluorescent lights. “He ain’t gettin’ this,” he says as he uses both hands to gesture at his body.

And I don’t stop myself before I ask, “Why not?”

He looks at me, slightly surprised, “Why not what?”

“I don’t know. He’s attractive and seems really into you. Seems like a good opportunity.” I don’t know what I’m doing.

“I’m not into him.”

“Okay…”

“You don’t believe me?” He’s amused.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh my god, you don’t believe me!” He walks towards me and I cross my arms, all too aware of how little clothes he’s wearing.

“I didn’t say that!”

“If you must know, he’s just not my type.” He stands in front of me, and I have to glance up, him being a few inches taller than me. When he looks down at me, his eyes seem to flutter and I feel like there’s a lump in my throat.

“If he’s not your type, then what is?” I don’t know if I’m flirting or not. It feels like I am but I’ve never done this before.

He takes a small step forward and slightly leans in. “Take a guess.” There’s a wicked smirk on his face.

I can’t feel my face but I’m positive I’m burning up. I try swallowing but it’s too difficult. I keep my arms crossed, trying to regain some control, and say, “I’m going to shower.” Because I truly couldn’t breathe. I don’t let him stop me before I walk into the bathroom and slam the door shut. I immediately let out a gasp of air and lean against the door. It was too much. I had never been in a situation like this. I feel things I didn’t know I could feel and that’s terrifying. Feeling is absolutely terrifying. I turn on the shower and don’t bother waiting until it heats up, letting the cold water numb my skin, hoping the numbness would reach my heart.

As the water streams on to my body, feeling like tiny fingers poking at me, I sit down, curling my feet to my knees. When I look up, the droplets of water seem magical until it blurs my vision. I let the water burn in my eyes, wanting to rub them, but not letting myself. Feel this instead of that. I try to remember something—anything to get my heart to calm down, but my memories are too fluid, too intangible to grasp them. They slip away like desert sand in the palm of my hands. 

I can’t do this. I can’t feel like this. It will only end in suffering.

I don’t even know what the feeling is. I’ve never felt it before. I push it down. Far down. I grab the feeling by the throat and shove it somewhere I can’t easily access. I let my mind forget about it. I let my heart beat the way it’s supposed to.

When I stand up, my fingers had pruned and the steam from the shower has become thick and suffocating. I have an urgent need to breathe fresh air. So I turn off the shower, wrap the towel around my waist, and leave.

“Are you okay? You were in there for like an hour?”

He sits on the bed, absolutely clueless of whatever just happened.

 I think about telling him. I think about how I can trust him with my feelings. But I’m reminded that it’s not him who I don’t trust, it’s me.