Chapter 36: Fight among the boys

The scene flashed back to the present. Atlas noticed the empty closet and turned sharply to Jelo, his expression hardening. “Why do you even care how we got out?” he asked, his voice carrying an edge. “After all, you were the one who locked us in the closet in the first place.”

His anger was evident now, no longer masked by the earlier teasing tone. “If you actually trusted us—you wouldn’t have chosen to betray us instead.”

The word “betray” hung in the air between them, sharp and accusatory.

Jelo flinched at the harshness of it, but he forced himself to respond. “It wasn’t like that,” he said quickly, his voice desperate to make them understand. “I didn’t lock you in there out of malice or because I wanted to betray you. I did it to protect you from possible consequences. I couldn’t—I didn’t want you two getting in trouble because of me.”

His hands were still covered in blood, and he was acutely aware of how the evidence of violence made his claims of protection sound hollow.

Atlas’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, it grew more frustrated. “You shouldn’t have worried about us,” he said firmly, taking a step closer to Jelo. “We’re perfectly capable of handling consequences. We’re perfectly capable of making our own choices about what risks we want to take. You don’t get to make those decisions for us, Jelo.”

“But—” Jelo started.

“No,” Atlas cut him off. “You treated us like we were children who needed to be protected from ourselves. Like we didn’t know what we were getting into when we offered to help you. That’s not protecting us, Jelo. That’s just you deciding our friendship isn’t worth the risk of us getting in trouble.”

The words stung because there was truth in them. Jelo had made that decision unilaterally, had decided that his fear of losing their friendship was more important than respecting their agency and their choice to stand by him.

“I just…” Jelo struggled to find the right words. “I just got you guys as friends. I didn’t want to lose you because I dragged you into my mess.”

Before Atlas could respond, Ken stepped forward, positioning himself slightly between them in a clear attempt to diffuse the growing tension.

“Hey, hey,” Ken said, his voice calm and reasonable, his usual easy-going demeanor serving as a buffer. “This is just a little misunderstanding, okay? Nobody’s betraying anybody here. We’re all just trying to do right by each other in our own confused, poorly-communicated ways.”

He turned to Atlas first. “Atlas, Jelo was trying to protect us. Yeah, he went about it in a stupid way, but his heart was in the right place.”

Then he turned to Jelo. “And Jelo, you need to understand that we wanted to take that risk. We wanted to help you. As long as we could be there for you, as long as we could have your back when you needed it, we didn’t mind facing whatever consequences came from that.”

Ken’s expression grew more serious, more sincere. “You were willing to risk getting beaten up—actually getting seriously hurt—just to keep Atlas and me out of trouble. You were willing to face Garin alone, to put yourself in danger, all because you cared about protecting us from consequences.”

He gestured between the three of them. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? We all care about each other. That’s why you locked us in. That’s why we wanted to go with you in the first place. We’re all just trying to protect each other, even if we’re doing it badly.”

Jelo felt something tight in his chest loosen slightly at Ken’s words. He looked at Atlas, whose expression had softened somewhat, the anger fading into something more complicated—hurt mixed with understanding mixed with lingering frustration.

“I’m sorry,” Jelo said quietly, meeting Atlas’s eyes. “You’re right. I should have trusted you to make your own decisions. I should have respected your choice to help me instead of deciding for you. I was just… scared of losing the first real friends I’ve had in years.”

Atlas stared at him for a long moment, his jaw working as if he was chewing over whether to accept the apology or keep pushing back.

Finally, he sighed deeply and his shoulders relaxed. “Fine,” he said, though his tone was still slightly grumpy. “Just don’t pull that shit again. If we say we’ve got your back, we mean it. Don’t lock us in closets.”

“I won’t,” Jelo promised. “Never again.”

Atlas, standing beside them, thought back to Ken’s words and scoffed quietly, though there was no real malice in the sound. He laughed inwardly, a private amusement crossing his mind.

Atlas thought to himself. Ken had said “we all care about each other,” but Atlas didn’t subscribe to that at all.

In his mind, Atlas concluded that his business here was only with Jelo. Ken was just an addition to that relationship—a friendly presence, sure, but not someone Atlas had any particular bond with. His loyalty, his concern, his willingness to take risks—all of that was for Jelo, not for Ken.

But he kept that thought to himself, not wanting to create more tension or make things awkward.

Ken, oblivious to Atlas’s internal commentary, clapped his hands together with renewed energy. “Alright! Now that we’ve resolved our emotional drama, I’m starving. Let’s go to the cafeteria and grab some snacks. My treat—I’ll handle the payment.”

Jelo and Atlas exchanged a glance. The offer was clearly Ken’s way of moving past the uncomfortable moment, of returning to normalcy after the conflict.

“Sure,” Jelo agreed, suddenly aware of how hungry he actually was. The fight with Garin, the emotional turmoil, the blood loss from his split knuckles—all of it had taken a toll. Food sounded good.

“Fine,” Atlas added with a small shrug. “I could eat.”

“Perfect!” Ken said, already starting to walk toward the cafeteria. “Come on, let’s get moving before they close for the evening.”

The three of them headed off together, walking through the corridors of the academy.

—–

The cafeteria was still moderately busy when they arrived, with students scattered throughout the large space at various tables. Some were studying while eating, others were socializing in small groups, and a few were eating alone while scrolling through their wrist devices.

The three of them headed to the snack section—a smaller area with pre-packaged foods, drinks, and quick meals for students who didn’t want a full dinner service.

Ken grabbed a protein bar and a bottle of water,

Atlas selected a sandwich and some kind of energy drink.

Jelo, true to form, grabbed multiple items—chips, a sandwich, cookies, and two different drinks. “What?” he said when he noticed Ken and Atlas staring at his haul. “I’m a growing boy. I need fuel.”

As promised, Ken paid for everything at the automated checkout station, his device beeping as it processed the transaction.

“Alright,” Ken said once they’d collected their food. “Where to? Common room? Or somewhere more private?”

Jelo glanced down at his bloody clothes again. “My room,” he said. “I need to change anyway”

“Fair point,” Ken agreed. “Your room it is.”

The three of them left the cafeteria and made their way toward the dormitory section.

When they finally reached the room, Jelo unlocked the door and they all filed inside.

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