The boys in the academy began to bully me, stuffing things in my locker, pelting me with snowballs, but I didn't care to fight back. If Clive was there he would have chased them down and beat them for bullying me, but now the Rottings boy, me, was an easy target.

We even began to practice for our final exam. Boys paired off and for our team we took turns sitting out. Our professor would call numbers and boys took off on the horses.

I wasn't feeling well but our group rotated. With Will we took time to wear out the other pair while with Wyatt, we ran into chaotic brawls as he refused to talk to me.

Boys looked at me different and cleared their throats when I was there. I was sick of playing along so I'd stay where I was, so they had to scoot away from me.

It didn't matter. Hearing the news of the best teams were making me anxious, knowing we were nowhere near the top. Cory and Hale were good, as well as Arthur Mannings and Kieran Murrows.

They were going to be the big show of the academy and people whispered their bets on who would win. Cory and Hale really grew and were now around my height, both in harmony and kept their rivals busy defending.

When we ate lunch boys would walk by and hope to make a good impression on them or get them to go easier on them. Cory would smile along as Hale would tell them sorry, they were busy. It seemed like I was staring at Clive and me in the past. I thought my friends would've asked me more, such as when I liked Clive or what we did, but they respectfully didn't.

At dinner I mostly stayed silent but they seemed to pity me, along with Will, and they would ask me to tell them if I was fine.

I wasn't. Wyatt kicked my bed away from him dramatically, saying I was a boy-lover. The younger boys were forced by the older boys to put what bugs they could find in my clothing locker. It was my physical education uniform and for it to be dirtied I would have to both wear the nasty brown juices of smashed up cockroaches but also do extra laps. I learned later to borrow Will's locker for my clothes. I never opened my locker up again but it smelled sour when I passed by it.

***

I headed to the Headmaster again, uneasy that night. I couldn't sleep, and studying later than one would annoy Wyatt so I didn't. I ended up sighing and changing out of my clothes to go to the office.

I knocked but it seemed strange. The light wasn't on, and I tried to force the lock but it was locked. The next day I asked a professor and they said they had checked the office that morning and the Headmaster was alright.

"Maybe he needed to sleep early, Rottings," my professor said. I couldn't bring myself to shake the uneasiness.

I went earlier the days after that. The Headmaster would speak with students but no matter how I knocked, he would lock his door and be oblivious to my knocks and shouts.

"Please, open the door!" I begged. No response. "Let me see Clive! Just once!"

I knocked, sobbing, and a shadow fell over me. I pulled up my head and squinted through the tears to see Wyatt.

It should've been embarrassing but I continued pounding weakly at the door, sobbing.

"Shut up, you dumbass," Wyatt said.

"Get him to open the door," I begged hoarsely. "Headmaster! Please!"

I fell down to my knees. I was crying, weak and without an appetite although the exam was in a week. I couldn't bear the academy just forgetting about Clive like this. Where was Clive in our exam boards? Would he not be by my side anymore?

"Please," I whispered.

Wyatt squatted down.

I wanted to push him away but my fists hurt and I didn't feel like it.

"Get yourself together," Wyatt said. "Dumbass. The headmaster feigns ignorance after any failure, like mine later year for the hunt." Wyatt glared at me.

"I didn't want to expose you two to more dangers," I said.

"Well, where's Clive then? You don't have a clue, have you?"

"Do you—" I was too stunned to speak up. "Do you like him—"

"Anyways, you want to find him, right? I'll look around and ask for him." Wyatt grabbed my tightly by the upper arm and pulled me up before stepping away. "Get something to eat. You're going to lose and right now, as much as I don't want it to be, you're in my team."

"Clive would like this. Us being friends," I said, smiling.

"You tried to kill me last year," Wyatt snapped.

"So did you."

Quietly, we left the office door and headed up the stairs, and back to our dorm. The next day Wyatt glared at me but told his friends to shut up about teasing me. The boys looked perplexed but followed his words.

I saw a boy in our grade with towels full of gunk. My locker looked fine but had a smell. The boys nearby told me to air it out. It still looked bad, and different boys wiped the walls but after almost a week, it was clean again.

Wyatt had asked around and found no clue. He also broke into Clive's room but found no clues. Unlike me, Wyatt roughed up all the professors and asked them all about Clive. As upset at they were at him, no one really had an answer—if they saw him, if they saw him and the Headmaster, and why exactly he seemed to have dropped out. Not even if he ways alive.

I was getting stronger because Wyatt took on the work of finding clues about Clive, and we even fought, one on one, and neither of us backed down. We also shared with Will how strange it was Clive disappeared.

At night we stayed up and Will would recall the past, when they also killed. Will seemed affected and was glad when I said I also stopped because—because it scared me. I told them everything to the point of what my father was doing. They were surprised, putting it lightly.

The days to the final exam was coming up and we all forgave each other for all the dumb fights we had.

"If only Clive was here," I said without thinking. They looked at me. "Sorry about that."

"Well, it's true. I'm sorry I couldn't fight him again," Wyatt said.

"He was nice, too," Will said. "He never came over to my place to visit."

"Nor mine," Wyatt added. "Weird how he's not of our blood but was so—dazzling."

Will nodded. "He had a charisma no one could surpass."

The night before the final exam we confessed silly things about Clive, and I made a wish. I wanted him to see me the next day, fighting with my new friends. Foul-mouthed Wyatt and the smart one, Will.

We woke up great and the three of us was awkwardly quiet. My hand was shaking, and I realized for them it probably was, too. It was the final test and how we'd be ranked. I couldn't tie my tie since my hands were quivering so hard.

"You two," Wyatt called. He smiled. "We will depart for breakfast but when it's time to fight know I've got your backs."

Will stared at him, tense, but then he smiled. "Know I don't regret my journey here, but I better not catch you flirting with Mona!"

Wyatt laughed, a rare laugh. "Nah, she's taken. I would never steal your future wife, Will."

"Thanks, Wyatt."

"It's our last test, let's go out with a bang!" Wyatt shouted.

Seeing how fire up he was, I began to feel my adrenaline pumping. "No hard feelings no matter what," Will added.

The two looked at me and I nodded.

"I'm bad at speeches," I said, "but I'll not let you two down ever on purpose. We are blood brothers."

"That was lame," Will teased and finally, we opened the door out.

Even at breakfast, everyone was different. They were fired up and shouting and yelling, giving out battle cries. Some ate, some didn't eat, and some ate a lot.

As we headed towards the arena the battle was happening, horses all lined up, students in their uniform, we were kind of all nervous, even the strongest duos. I saw Cory and Hale and was about to head their way when I was pulled back.

"Professor?" I asked.

He let go of my wrist and coughed, the way people did when they bore bad news.

"Rottings, for some reason you cannot compete with your team."

My heart jumped a bit. "Is Clive back?"

"Clive? No, I don't think I heard. Either way, I suppose it's too hard to have three people on the team, I suppose we will give you a makeup test."

"But it's a rite of passage! It's graduation!" I was too loud and Cory and Hale were making their way to me.

"Either way," the professor of physical education said, "it'll be a mess if you join. You have it easy, you ought to thank the Headmaster." He looked away and I knew what he was thinking. "You're so privileged."

And he was right. To not make me graduate was impossible, as a Rottings son. Yet it made me despise my more than fake certificate of graduation, too.