The click of the front door latch was the only sound in the cavernous marble hallway. It felt unnaturally loud.
Kian stood for a second, his hand on the doorknob, his bag heavy on his shoulder. He could feel his brother's presence behind him, a silent, heavy warmth. The "bruised silence" of the house had followed them out into the bright, cool morning.
They'd left the bikes. The walk to the bus stop was almost a mile, a route they'd taken thousands of times but never, not once, like this.
Kian started walking, his steps crunching on the white gravel. He heard Leo fall in beside him.
This new silence was different from their old one. The old silence had been a weapon, a cold, hard wall Kian used to keep the world out. This one was… fragile. It was a shared space, a vacuum created by the emotional explosion of the night before.
Kian was a raw nerve. Every crunch of gravel, every rustle of the wind in the perfectly manicured oak trees, felt like a judgment. He was waiting for Leo to speak, to ask, to demand, to push, the way he always did.
But Leo said nothing.
He just... walked. He matched Kian's pace, his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the sidewalk ahead. He was giving Kian… space.
The kindness was, in its own way, excruciating. It was a thousand times worse than Leo's anger. His brother's rage, Kian could handle. He knew how to fight that. He had no defense against this. This quiet, patient, empathetic presence.
It was a silent acknowledgment: I saw you break. And I'm still here.
Kian's guilt, which he had tried to exorcise with graphite and then stared at in the face of Leo's fury, was a physical weight in his stomach. It's killing you. That's how I know you're not him.
Leo's words. The only lifeline he'd been thrown.
But it wasn't enough. He had... he had broken those kids. He had broken Milo. He had seen the look on that kid's face. His face.
How do I fix it? The thought wasn't a question. It was a command. He didn't know the answer. He just knew he had to.
They reached the corner, the bus stop coming into view. It was a small, three-sided brick shelter at the edge of their wealthy neighborhood, the official meeting point for the middle and high schoolers.
Silas and Ren were already there. Silas, as usual, was talking animatedly, his hands flying, while Ren was, as usual, just... listening, a book in his hand.
Silas saw them. "Hey, Kian! Hey, Leo! You'll never..." He started to wave, but Ren, with a subtle, sharp movement, put a hand on his friend's arm.
Ren's analytical gaze swept over Kian. He saw the dark circles under his eyes. He saw the... the rawness. He saw the "Ice-Man" was gone, replaced by something... brittle. He saw Leo, walking with him, not just near him.
The "contract" was in full effect.
Silas, catching Ren's signal, stopped. His joke died on his lips. His expression softened into one of... concern. "Hey, man," he said, his voice now quiet, normal. "You good?"
Kian just nodded, his throat tight. He was grateful. He couldn't handle Silas's normal, manic energy today. Not today. "Yeah. Just... tired."
He left his friends and walked, as he always did, to the edge of the bus stop's perimeter. He had a spot, a specific patch of concrete under an old oak tree, away from the chatter.
Leo, meanwhile, was immediately pulled into his own orbit.
"LEO! CAPTAIN!"
Sam and Marcus were jogging up, their bags slung over their shoulders.
"Man," Sam said, clapping him on the back, "I... I don't know what you did this weekend... but... whoa. You... you ate Dylan's lunch yesterday. It was... epic!"
"He... he had a tell," Leo said, shrugging, but he couldn't suppress his proud smile. "I just... I just saw it."
"Yeah, well... I'm glad you're on our team," Marcus said, his voice a low rumble.
And then, the entire vibe of the bus stop shifted.
A new group of girls had arrived. They were... bright. They were laughing, their high school uniforms somehow looking... cooler. And at the center of them... was Chloe Kim.
She was... sunshine. She had a bright, easy smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes, a high ponytail, and she was, in every way, the social center of the group. She was... light.
She saw Leo. And she... she smiled. "Hey, Leo! Hey, guys!"
Leo, the Captain, the "wall" who had shut down Dylan Riley, suddenly looked like he'd been hit with a tranquilizer dart. He... he blushed.
"Oh... uh... hey, Chloe," he said, his voice suddenly two octaves higher.
Sam and Marcus exchanged a look.
"I was... I was just in the library," Chloe said, walking over, her friends hanging back and watching. "I heard Sam telling everyone,"—she shot Sam a teasing look—"about how you shut down the new transfer guy. He said it was 'legendary'."
"Oh," Leo said, rubbing the back of his neck. "It... it wasn't... I mean..."
"He flew," Sam interjected. "Like, weeeee... splat!"
Chloe laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made Leo blush even harder. "Well, I just wanted to say... congratulations, Captain." She said 'Captain' with a little extra emphasis, a slight, playful sparkle in her eye. "It's... it's really cool. What you're doing. Getting the team ready."
"Thanks, Chloe," Leo said, his voice dreamy. "Yeah. We're... we're trying."
"I... I think I'll come to the opener on Friday," she said, as if the thought had just occurred to her. "I... I like watching you... you know... play."
The air was... thick.
HOOOOOOOOONK!
The bus, with all the subtlety of an air-raid siren, pulled up, its doors hissing open.
The spell was broken.
"Oh! Bus!" Chloe said, her face flushing. "I... I'll... I'll see you... in... in school, Leo."
"Yeah," Leo said, his voice still lost in the clouds. "Yeah. See you."
Everyone piled on. The high schoolers—Leo's team, Chloe's friends—filled the front and middle, the noise level instantly rising.
Silas and Ren got on, taking their usual spot, mid-bus.
Kian got on. He walked past everyone. He didn't look at Silas. He didn't look at Leo, who was glowing like a 100-watt bulb. He went... as he always did... to the very back. The last seat. By the window.
He slumped down, his bag in his lap.
He'd just seen his brother... shine. He'd seen... normalcy. A happy, popular, good guy. A... a pretty, cheerful girl. He'd seen the life he was... not living.
He was in the back of the bus, an outcast by choice, his hands stained with graphite from a drawing of a kid he'd betrayed.
He leaned his head against the vibrating glass, closing his eyes. He was so, so tired.
The bus... hissed... as... someone... else... sat down.
Kian opened his eyes.
It wasn't a student. At least, not just a student.
Maya Davis had walked past the entire bus. She was wearing the standard Crestwood High polo, but she also had a... a press pass on a lanyard. 'Crestwood High Herald - Sports Editor.' She was holding a tablet.
She sat in the seat... directly across the aisle.
Kian... just... stared. He knew who she was. He'd seen her at the tryouts with his brother (or, rather, seen her type). She was the one he'd mentally replaced with 'Elara Chen'. The real Maya Davis. She was, like him, a year younger than her grade, a sophomore in a sea of juniors, but she didn't hide. She commanded.
She... didn't... look... at... him.
She tapped her tablet, the screen lighting up. It was... game film. It was data.
Kian could see, from the corner of his eye, that she was re-watching the 1-on-1 drill from yesterday. She was isolating Leo's footwork.
Kian... just... stared... at... the... back... of... the... seat... in... front... of... him.
He was... in... the... back... of... a... bus. With... a... data-obsessed... manager.
His... his brother... was... in... the... front... of... the... bus... glowing.
His... his friends... were... in... the... middle... of... the... bus... watching... him.
And... in... his... bag... was... a... drawing... of... a... heartbroken... kid.
KLanguage... Kian knew... what... he... had... to... do.
He... he had... to... go back.
He... he had... to... go back... to... the... quarry.
He... he had... to... fix... it.