You Just Have To Beg

I stood in the center of the cramped, suffocatingly small space, staring at the scarred wooden wardrobe that held the few pieces of clothing I owned. My knuckles were still throbbing from peeling gum from the gym wall and my shoulder was a dull, localized ache from the punishment the dormitory master had melted out.

Across the room, my roommate, Liam, was sprawled out on his unmade bed. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants, his chest rising and falling in the lazy rhythm of someone who hadn't just had their entire world demolished by a piece of paper. He had a handheld gaming console positioned inches from his face, his thumbs tapping furiously against the plastic buttons.

I didn't say a word. I dragged a heavy cardboard box from beneath my bed and threw it onto the mattress, the sound of the cardboard scraping against the frame cutting through the room. I marched over to the wardrobe, yanked the doors open with enough force to make the wood groan, and began grabbing handfuls of shirts.

Thud.

I threw a pile of green training jerseys into the box.

Thud.

A tangle of socks and athletic shorts followed. The bed was quickly becoming a disaster zone of scattered cotton, nylon, and loose athletic tape. I was tearing things off hangers, not caring if they ripped, needing the physical exertion to burn off the restless, toxic energy vibrating through my limbs.

Liam didn't look up from his screen, but his thumbs slowed down. "You know," he murmured, his voice infuriatingly casual over the electronic beeps of his game, "you could actually just apologize to Cassian."

I froze. A stray sock hung from my fingers. I turned slowly, my eyes narrowing into a razor-sharp glare that should have incinerated him on the spot. I pointed a finger directly at his face.

"Don't you dare say another word," I warned, my voice dangerously low.

Liam finally snapped his console shut. Instead of being intimidated, he jumped up slightly, repositioning himself on the mattress so he was sitting cross-legged, leaning his weight back against the wall to look at me properly. He had that annoying, practical look in his eyes—the look he always got when he thought he was being the voice of reason.

"Yeah, I'm basically saying the truth," Liam said, shrugging his bare shoulders. "But you know you're way too stubborn to listen to the truth. It's Cassian Vale, Reese. You could just practically apologize, clear the air, and this whole thing goes away."

"I should apologize for what?" My voice jumped an octave, hitting a high-pitched, defensive tone that I immediately hated. I gripped the edge of the wardrobe door to steady myself. "What should I apologize for? For the fact that I defended myself? For the fact that his goon tripped me in front of the entire academy, and he stood there and laughed about it?"

Liam raised his hands in a mocking gesture of surrender, though his face remained deadpan. "Yeah, I understand the fact that you were trying to defend yourself or whatever. I get it. Because I know how defensive you get when people call you small."

My blood pressure spiked. I stepped toward his bed, pointing that same rigid finger at his chest. "Don't. You. Dare."

"What?" Liam scoffed, rolling his eyes as he threw his head back against the wall. "I'm not trying to make a reference to anything. I'm just stating facts. You have a massive chip on your shoulder about your size, Reese. We all know it. But swinging on the guy who owns the keys to the kingdom isn't the way to prove a point."

I didn't answer him. I turned back around, snatched three more t-shirts off their wire hangers, and threw them violently into the box.

"I'm getting out of this school," I shouted at the wall, my hands shaking as I crammed a pair of sneakers into the corner of the cardboard container. "Like, everyone here is so... so completely twisted. The coaches, the seniors, the administration. It's a playground for the elite."

I grabbed a fistful of gear from the drawer, ready to hurl it, but Liam’s voice cut through the air with a sudden, heavy seriousness that made my hands go limp.

"Are you really going to give up on your dreams of becoming a top-notch rugby player?"

The clothes I was holding stayed clamped in my fingers. The frantic movement of my hands stopped. The word rugby seemed to echo in the small, dingy room, bouncing off the concrete walls until it settled right in the center of my chest.

The anger that had been keeping me upright for the last hour suddenly evaporated, leaving behind a hollow exhaustion. My shoulders slumped. Slowly, the fight draining completely out of my posture, I sat down on the edge of my mattress. The cardboard box sat beside me, filled with the messy, disorganized remnants of my life. I sat facing Liam’s bed, my eyes tracking a crack in the floorboards between us.

"But what the hell am I supposed to do?" I asked, my voice falling flat. I looked up at him, feeling smaller than I ever had on the field. "Yes, I know I want to be one of the best rugby players ever. I’ve worked for this every single day. I’ve sacrificed everything. My identity, my comfort, my sanity. But why? I don't even know anymore if it's worth it if this is how the game is played."

Liam watched me for a quiet moment. The irritation disappeared from his face, replaced by a grim sympathy. He slid off his bed and walked over to my side of the room, stopping just a foot away.

"That's why you need to learn to be humble," Liam said quietly. He looked down at me, his brow furrowing. "Look at us, Reese. We don't come from families that can just buy us a career or a national team spot. We don't have safety nets. So we need to play the game. Even when it’s unfair."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You basically just insulted Cassian's closest circle in the senior hostel. You could have smoothed things over before the administration got involved. You need to learn to control your anger, Reese. You get frustrated over things you can't change."

"Frustrated?" I gasped, incredulous. "He treated me like I didn't belong here!"

"And he's the person you need to impress if you want to stay!" Liam countered. "It's how the world works here! You let your temper dictate your future, and now you're packing a box."

I stopped pacing. I looked at the white envelope resting on top of my crumpled shirts. The official school seal looked like a mocking eye.

"Okay," I muttered. "Okay. I get it." I sat back down, rubbing my temples. "But it's going to be so embarrassing to go back there now. And besides, I've already gotten the expulsion letter. Do you honestly think they would even consider changing it?"

Liam reached out, his hand roughly ruffling my short, cropped hair.

"Hey! Stop it! I've told you to stop!" I yelled, batting his hand away. I smoothed down the strands with both hands. "Don't play with my hair. I hate when you do that."

"Relax, your hair is just always so soft, it's annoying," Liam laughed. Then, his face straightened out again. "But seriously? There is nothing impossible for Cassian Vale to do. He practically runs the school. If he tells the dean to rip up that paper, the dean will do it. If you get Cassian to drop the issue, the expulsion disappears."

I stared at the box, my mind racing through the logistics. "Where am I even going to find him? I don't know his dormitory. I heard he doesn't even stay in the main hostel buildings."

Liam looked down at me, his eyes narrowing. A slow smirk creased the corner of his mouth. "Are you really denying you don't know where he stays? You, the person who knows every detail of the rugby roster?"

I looked up at him, my lips twitching. I rolled my eyes dramatically, a small, reluctant smile showing on my face.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered. "You got me. I know where the private residences are. I want you to follow me. I need a witness so things don't go sideways."

Liam immediately stepped back, shaking his head and holding his hands up.

"Now, that's not possible," Liam said, his voice firm. "I am not going to get caught up in your mess. No way. You go there and do what you have to do. but for me, I’m busy."

"Liam, come on!"

"No," he said, turning around and walking straight back to his bed. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. "I have a new episode of my favorite actress to get through. So I’m not going anywhere with you."

I stared at him. "Can't you just take one day off from jerking off?"

"No!" Liam shouted back, throwing himself face-first onto his pillows. He waved his hand blindly over his shoulder. "Get out now! Go make your peace. And knock before you come back in, because I need my privacy."

I grabbed my jacket, rolling my eyes. "You're unbelievable."

"Get out!" came the muffled shout.

I grabbed the doorknob, took one deep breath, and stepped out into the hallway, leaving the room behind.