Chapter 3 Chapter 3

Elowen sat hunched over her kitchen table, her fingers curled loosely around a mug that had long gone cold.

The coffee had stopped working two nights ago, no amount of caffeine could keep up with the thoughts swimming in her head.

A gust of wind rattled the loose windows and it startled her. She groaned, dragging herself up, padding barefoot across the floor to shove it closed. This was quite an unforgiving storm.

She had barely settled back down when her phone buzzed across the table. The screen lit up with Kieron’s name.

She exhaled and answered. “Hey.”

“Just checking in.” He murmured, by his tone she could deduce that he was very tired.

Her eyes softened. “How is school going?”

They talked, Kieron rambling about little things at first, like, the environment, the thirsty student crowd, Professor Yolland's unfortunate wardrobe.

until his tone turned dreadfully bitter.

“I heard Lucian Langford is back from rehab. And in your college.”

Her throat tightened.

“Yeah, don’t give two fucks about that whitehead.”

"The worst part... his boxing gloves, his jabs, his face, they still haunt my dreams. Sometimes I—”

“Kieran. Gareth. Sterling,” she cut him off gently, using his full name the way she did when she needed him to breathe. “Don’t. Focus on your classes. That is all that matters now.”

He sighed, but the resistance was still in his voice.

“I’ve been thinking about taking a job—”

“No. You can’t screw up your GPA by getting distracted. It’s your first year back after… everything. You need to put the work in, not burn yourself out.”

“It’s not fair,” he muttered. “You’ve been working your ass off while I—”

“It’s life. Let me handle the work. You focus on getting through school.”

"But you're in school too."

His whine was almost cute.

"I'm in my second year. I'm already grounded enough in Harrington. I know the corners to cut. You are new to HydeDean, you don't."

"El...it's not your responsibility to—"

She cut him off just as quickly.

"I'm older by twenty minutes, I get the final word, and say."

She chuckled lightly, imagining how he would roll his eyes whenever she pulled out the seniority card.

Silence stretched between the two for a short moment, then Kieron admitted, almost shyly, “There are a few books I need to buy. But they are kind of expensive.”

Her throat bobbed. The money she had was supposed to get new clothes, foodstuffs, and a little to cover at least half the rent. Both her paychecks weren't coming until the week's end. 

Still—

“I’ll handle it.”

“Honestly,” She knew he was about to lie. "I could wing it, they aren't all that necessary."

“You don't need to do that K, just send me the list, prices, shit and stuff, I'll get them for you.”

Before she could change her mind, she opened her banking app. Every digit in her account sobbed a river, but she hit send anyway.

That was dinner gone.

Thankfully, she had pre-ordered pizza.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Her chest warmed. “Just study.”

"Yes, mom." The last bit was a mocking pull and she laughed at it. “Hey El…”

"Mmn?"

"I overheard something. The president was talking to a board member. He said… he said he’s not sure how long my scholarship will last.”

Her knuckles tightened around the phone. Damnit, Miller.

“That is likely a mix-up,” she lied smoothly. “Don’t stress over it.”

He let out a shaky laugh of relief. “Thank God. Without the scholarship, you know I couldn’t—”

“I know,” she interrupted, softer. “But it’s fine. I promise.”

She hated how steady she sounded when inside her stomach was a knot of knives.

The doorbell rang and she glanced at the door.

 “Hey, I’ve got to go. We’ll talk later.”

“All right. Bye, El.”

“Bye K.” She hung up.

The storm was vicious, battering against the glass, and she thought about how much extra she should tip the poor pizza guy for braving it. Not like she had much on her anyway.

She tugged her cardigan tighter over her loose shirt and opened the door.

“Extra pepperoni, right?” she began murmuring automatically.

But it wasn’t the delivery boy.

Lucian Langford stood there, drenched from head to toe, rain dripping off his curls, shirt plastered to his frame.

She narrowed her eyes. 

“What the hell are you doing at my house?”

Lucian chewed at his lower lip, a nervous tick she had never once seen from him.

“Miller gave me your address,” he admitted, the rain dripping from his curls to his jawline. “I wanted to call first, but I figured you wouldn’t pick up even if I did.”

He wasn't wrong.

She folded her arms, fighting the urge to slam the door in his face.

He was shivering and his lips tinged pale.

“You didn’t think to bring an umbrella?”

“I was already halfway here when the storm started. I didn’t see it coming,” he cleared his throat. “I just… rushed out. I needed to see you.”

Elowen groaned, dragging a hand down her face. Every instinct screamed at her to shut him out. But he looked like he might collapse right there on her porch. And she would likely be blamed for his death.

She couldn't afford prison right now. 

“Fine.” She opened the door wider. “But don’t touch anything. Don’t sit on any of my furniture.”

“Thanks.”

“Stand by the door. You’re dripping.”

"Thank you."

She raised a palm.

His lips pressed together.

Lucian stepped inside and kept his hands shoved in his hoodie pocket,

“I came to talk about the board’s deal,” he said.

“So you are here to manipulate me into taking it?”

“No. If I were you, I wouldn’t take it either. Your actions are justified. You hate me, and you should. I ruined your brother’s future. Kieron deserved that title more than I ever did. He was a champion at conduct, and a true fighter at heart. He should be here, enlisting for the tournament, not me.”

She crossed her arms and let him continue.

It wasn't everyday you heard a Langford talk like this.

“I don’t even deserve to represent anything at the tournaments. I don’t deserve forgiveness. And I’m not asking for it yet.”

“Then what are you asking me for?”

“A chance,” he said simply. “Just to work with you. Until the tournament is over. You don’t have to like me. You don’t have to forgive me. Just… put up with me. Teach me."

"Hmm."

“If you do, your brother’s treatment is covered. His scholarship stays safe, yours too. You get to finish school. And—” he hesitated, then stepped forward a little “I’ll pay you. Weekly, hourly, whatever you want. More than both your jobs put together. So you don’t have to work two jobs everyday. No one has to know. Not even Kieron.”