Mooching Off My Own Brother

"Sign it.

"And leave campus today."

Freshmen packed the hallway outside our dorm room.

Some leaned around the doorway.

Others whispered to each other.

"Did he really steal Nathaniel Whitlock's card?"

"That's a Whitlock family card."

Preston Carver clearly enjoyed the attention.

He tapped the desk with one finger.

"Caleb, stop acting innocent.

"The black card was in your drawer. We have witnesses and physical evidence. What exactly are you still denying?"

I glanced at the card on the desk.

Deep black surface, a thin gold border, and the Whitlock family crest stamped in the center.

Preston probably thought the crest was terrifying.

What he didn't know was that the faint scratch beneath it came from me using the edge of the card to open a package last week.

I almost laughed.

Preston mistook my silence for fear.

He slid another sheet toward me.

"Sign it and there may still be room to handle this quietly.

"If you refuse, I'll post everything in the freshman group chat and file it with Student Council. Then you won't even be staying in a normal dorm."

Perfect.

Living in a dorm was the "normal college experience" Mom had arranged for me.

If Preston wanted to end that experiment for me, I was happy to cooperate.

Tonight I could sleep in my own bed, eat a home-cooked meal, and shower without waiting in line.

I picked up the pen and signed.

Caleb Laurent.

Preston stopped talking.

He had clearly prepared an entire lecture.

He just hadn't expected me to sign that quickly.

"You actually signed it?"

"Didn't you tell me to?"

I pushed the paper back.

"It's in writing now. No take-backs."

Some of the satisfaction vanished from Preston's face.

"Don't think acting casual gets you out of this.

"I'm trying to get justice for Nathaniel.

"He trusted you, and you stole his card."

I corrected him seriously.

"He was too lazy to go downstairs for yogurt."

Someone outside the room snorted.

Preston's face immediately darkened.

Then a voice came from the corridor.

"Which one of you is Caleb Laurent?"

Preston stepped aside at once.

Cameron Fitch, head of the Student Council Conduct Committee, stood outside with two committee members.

He didn't come in. He just looked into the room from the doorway.

Linda Keller, the residence hall manager, followed them with a clipboard.

Preston hurried over.

"Cameron, that's him.

"We found the black card. He still refuses to admit what he did."

Cameron looked at me.

I looked back.

"Student Council investigates crimes now?"

"Cooperating with a conduct review is your responsibility."

He motioned toward my luggage.

My phone was in the inner pocket of my backpack, and the backpack was packed inside my suitcase.

My driver's license and house key were in there too.

I bent down to pull it closer.

Cameron grabbed it first.

"There may be other stolen property inside.

"It needs to be inventoried."

"My phone is in there."

"You'll get it back after the investigation."

Preston stood in the doorway smiling like he'd already won.

I checked my pockets and came up with three coins. That was it.

Cameron dragged my suitcase toward the stairs.

Preston followed beside him, whispering something.

Within moments, both disappeared down the hall.

Ms. Keller handed me a temporary removal notice.

"The university wants you to wait in the first-floor lobby."

I walked out with the paper.

No phone, no wallet, no student ID—not even the key to my own house.