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k n i g h t   i n   e x c h a n g e

It was Liam, not Marcel, who broke the news about the tenth round. He'd arrived at the shack one afternoon, during our break, and sat Marcel and I down at the table, a grave expression in his eyes.

"So? What is it?" I asked quietly, well aware that Ean was still at the front of the shack doing the packing. I knew he was dying to listen in on our conversation, but I was adamant that he stayed put where he was. There was no way I was dragging Ean into this, especially when I could tell from the glint in Liam's eyes that the tenth round wasn't anything to be trifled with.

Liam leaned back in his chair, propping an arm up on the back of Marcel's. "I'm sure you already know what it is, Darce. Miles didn't seem surprised when we told him."

I frowned in confusion. And then the conversation Miles had had with Keith and Vince so long ago dawned on me. The memory of that was so fresh in my mind - every memory about Miles was clear as crystal - it almost seemed like it happened just yesterday. "The elephant walk?" I blurted, horrified. "I thought Corvus didn't do that!"

He visibly winced before scowling at me. "Of course not, we're not that bad. It's the Durden."

"What's - " and then I remembered it, all of it.

A free fight. Without shirts or shoes, lasting for as long as possible, until someone says "mute".

I knew it even better now that Miles had convinced me to read Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club a while back. I had enjoyed the book, loved it even. It was vivid and thrilling and everything in between, but now that it was going to be played out in real life - I felt sick to the stomach. Fiction ought to stay fiction, because fictional characters couldn't hurt. It was terrifying when it played out in reality.

"No," I murmured, feeling a sinking feeling in my heart and and indescribable wave of hysteria rise in my chest. "This isn't funny, Liam, you'd better not be joking."

But there wasn't a trace of humour in his eyes. Even Marcel had shut up for once, her eyes wide and concerned.

"Well, do something to stop it then!" I snapped, when neither of them said a word. "You're one of the heads. Change the rules! Do something, anything!"

"I would if I could, Darce, but my hands are tied - "

"By who? Marcel?"

It was a joke, but my voice was laced with anger even as I said it and neither of them made to laugh. The shack was so silent you could hear a pin drop, and even Ean had ventured over to listen in on our conversation. He was leaning against the shelf, arms folded across his chest but his posture was stiff.

I could almost feel the tension all round, it sizzled and stung like the hot tears stinging the back of my eyelids. I couldn't even fathom why I was beginning to cry - out of frustration, probably, but the Hell Weeks had descended into nothing but anarchy and I could barely claw my way out, let alone drag Miles out with me.

"Darce," Liam began, treading carefully with his words, "you don't have to overreact."

"Overreact?" I gasped furiously, and Marcel's shoulders straightened, ready to intervene if I lost my temper and lashed out at him. "You think I'm overreacting?"

Unlike Marcel, he was perfectly calm. "Precisely. Listen to me, why do you think I'm telling you about The Durden? Miles now has a far greater advantage - "

"There is no advantage. For fuck's sake, Liam, haven't you seen any of the boys taking part in the Hell Weeks yet? They're not capable of - "

"That's why I told you!" He exploded, and Marcel immediately slid her hand up his arm, stilling him. "That's why I told Miles! Emmett - that's the other guy who'll be fighting Miles - doesn't even know about it. He wouldn't even know anything about it. He'll walk straight into the gym a week and a half from now and he'll be asked to take off his fucking shirt and fight and he wouldn't even know what hit him until he's been properly hit. By Miles."

"Miles is not going to fight Emmett, he wouldn't have the heart to - "

"Then why did he agree to it?"

My voice caught. "What?"

Liam's gaze on me was firm, unrelenting. "I told Miles about it this morning. He was nothing but calm. He didn't even ask for us to change anything, he knew that he needed to do this."

For the second time, I thought about how Miles had the propensity to turn a hundred and eighty degrees. And on the flipside, he seemed a perfect stranger. I couldn't help but wonder if it was the Hell Weeks that had finally gotten to him, to us. How it made me break the rules, ignore and brush past everything and everyone around me just so Miles could get in. How Miles, so close to the finish line, so desperate to live up to his father's expectations, was willing to do anything to get in.

This was messing so badly with our heads that maybe something simply had to give. Maybe our sanity.

"You protect him too much, Darce," Marcel said softly, and the harsh honesty in her words grated against my ears. Only she dared to speak the truth at a time like this, but it was just like her to speak her mind so freely. "Don't think we haven't seen it all. You keep forgetting that he's older than you and that he knows what he's doing. It's not like he entered this without knowing what's in store for him - Liam says his brother was head of Corvus, for goodness' sake, surely he had some idea."

And there it was. Laid out in the open, the truth that I couldn't wrap my head around and had forgotten so many times. That just because I'd met that helpless, shy boy on the beach that first day didn't mean he stayed the same helpless, shy boy all his life.

Miles was evolving, or perhaps he'd already evolved. A part of me was glad about that; truly, I only wanted the best for Miles. But the other half of me was terrified. Why did it feel like I was the one being left behind, trapped in a state of stasis, a fixed point that never seemed to move?

I shut my eyes and if, before, I could see the reflection of the sunlight beneath my closed eyelids, all I could see now was darkness and shadows, more darkness and more shadows. "Alright," I opened my eyes and my voice was calm, "what do you suggest we do?"

Liam sighed and Marcel looked more than relieved. But the silence still prevailed, as if they were unsure about what to say next.

"You could train him," came a voice from behind. The three of us turned to see Ean, who was still standing perfectly still behind us. "I don't mean you two girls, but maybe the other guys could," he continued, matter-of-factly. "Maybe teach him how to evade and block and get some offensive moves in, probably. It's worth a shot."

"Ean's three steps ahead of you, Darce," Liam managed a smile. His eyes were gleaming once again. "That's precisely why I came to tell you."

"Or," and Marcel's voice was a double-edged sword that sliced thin and painful, "you could attend to that pressing matter we were talking about and he wouldn't have to go through any of this at all."

I tried hard not to glare daggers at Marcel, really I did, but if looks could kill, she would've crumpled up there and then. Both Liam and Ean looked utterly confused at first, but then a slow recognition dawned on the former's face.

"Oh, she means you being part of a sorority. Miles doesn't know?"

And for the second time that day, the earth shattered beneath my feet.

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"I can't believe you didn't tell me," Ean hissed, as we made our way back home. After lunch break, Mom had taken over the shack with Marcel. Liam stayed to help. And so both Ean and I were given the day off. I knew Ean planned to hide in his room playing computer games for the rest of the day, and I had my daily tutoring session with Miles.

"There's nothing to tell," I insisted, keeping my eyes ahead when Ean turned to shoot me an annoyed look. "Liam's bullshitting. I'm not a sorority member, not really, anyway."

"You know if Miles finds out about this, he'll freak. You're literally a part of the group he's trying to hard to get into and you could've saved his ass and - "

"I know, I know!" Covering my face guiltily, I held my palms flat against my flushing cheeks before drawing away. "I will tell him, I promise. I'll fix it."

We continued the rest of the walk in silence. It wasn't until we'd reached the doorstep when I pulled Ean to a halt, staring up at him seriously.

"You cannot tell Mom or Dad about this," he opened his mouth and I pressed on, "they will be broken-hearted. They'll ask me why I rejected a place in college when I could easily get in and I don't want to have to explain to them and see them look all disappointed."

He folded his arms across his chest and I caught a glimpse of his innate stubbornness glimmer in his eyes. "Then why'd you reject it?"

"Look at Miles," I returned, simply. The frown on his face cleared as my words began to make sense to him. "I don't want to be part of the group that did this to him. I'd rather be labelled a failure all my life for not getting into college than spend sleepless nights staring at the walls and seeing nothing but terror and fear."

"Fair enough," he admitted, begrudgingly, before heading into the house. Just before he disappeared up the stairs, he paused and glanced at me over his shoulder. "Darcy?"

"Yeah?"

"For the record, I don't think you're a failure. You're great in all other things that matter anyway - " but he was cut off as I wrapped my arms around him quickly, engulfing him in embrace that nearly knocked the wind out of him. He stood stiffly for a moment or two, like all other teenage boys did when embarrassed, before pushing me off. "Okay, okay, I got it. You're welcome, now go away. It's like you're trying to strangle me."

Laughing, I stepped back, putting a safe distance between us and he practically escaped upstairs. I heard the sound of a door slam in the distance and knew I wasn't going to be seeing him till dinnertime. Then I sobered up as I thought of what I needed to tell Miles. I couldn't even predict how he was going to react when I told him and that in itself scared the hell out of me. I hated the unknown, hated things that left me floundering, gasping for air that had no oxygen, falling into an abyss that had no bottom, running through a tunnel that had no end-point.

By the time Miles had arrived, I'd worked myself up into a fine frenzy. I was a bundle of nerves when I opened the door to let him in, but that all seemed to dissipate when I saw his smile, peaceful and calm, like he was genuinely happy to see me.

"Hey," he greeted, reaching out and then pausing, as if he didn't know whether to pull me into a hug.

I decided that for him. Pushing myself up on tiptoe, I looped my arms around his neck, pulling him down to meet me halfway. Our kiss was brief, gentle, but he met my lips with more confidence this time.

"Hey yourself," I murmured, pulling away from him with a smile on my face that matched his. Then I sobered up as I remembered the task at hand. It took nearly all of my willpower to force a calm expression on my face. The inner child in me felt like running away and avoiding this whole thing altogether. "Listen, I've got to tell you something."

"Me too," he returned, letting me lead him further into the house. I led Miles up to my bedroom this time, certain that if Ean came out of his room and chanced upon us kissing or cuddling, he'd be thoroughly appalled.

When I'd shut the door properly behind us, I turned around and there was an apprehensive look on his face as he sat down on my chair. I settled down on the bed, pulling my knees up and tucking them under my chin.

"You're going to tell me about the Durden, aren't you?" I asked flatly, and his mouth fell open, his surprise clear and unmasked on his face. "Liam told me earlier today. Right after he told you, I believe. He said you took it pretty calmly."

He let out a chuckle, but it was a nervous one. "Trust me, I wasn't. I was scared as hell. I still am, to be honest."

Something in my chest pulled at his confession, and I shook my head to clear my thoughts. If there was any reason I was revealing the truth, it was for him. Not because of what Marcel had said, or what Ean made me promise. I thought of the consequence of telling him. How, if, he reacted positively and agreed to my proposal, then he was going to get what he'd wanted all this while. He was going to be in. He was going to be happy.

And that thought alone was sufficient for me to push on. "I have a solution for you," I began, bracing myself for the aftermath. "You just need to hear me through. And don't get mad, please don't get mad, just hear me out until I'm done."

"Why would I get mad at you - "

"I'm a potential member of Ursa," the words came out in a rush. And then he fell silent; all was silent. I could hear my heart beat loud in my ears, the blood rushing to my face. It took a tremendous effort to look at him, see the expression on his face shift - from confusion to realisation.

He stared at me like he could hardly believe his ears. "Ursa? Isn't that the sorority linked to Corvus? Sister-sorority, so to speak."

"Yes." It was merely a word, a simple word, but it had so many different connotations and none of them seemed positive.

"But you're not even in Riverton," he stated, still sounding thoroughly confused. But I could see the stiffness in his spine, the wariness in his eyes; perfect body language of a person who'd found out that they'd been lied to. Well, it wasn't a lie - but it was an omission on my part, an omission that could've saved him a lot of pain if I'd just said it in the first place.

Sighing, I ran a shaky hand through my hair and tried to meet his probing gaze. "Some months back, before I even met you, I was invited to join Ursa. I didn't even to do well for my SATs for that to happen. I knew the alumnus, I knew the current head, I knew practically anyone and everyone worth knowing. I've known them all my life - you know, having lived at the beach and all - they've seen me grow up and I was practically guaranteed a place in Riverton, so long as I was a part of Ursa. And it wasn't just limited to a place in college. You know how Riverton fraternities and sororities get you connections literally everywhere, right?"

He nodded but didn't say a word. The wheels seemed to be turning at a rapid pace in his head, registering every little thing I said.

"So if I graduated from Riverton, I could easily get a job from any of the alumnus. Things like these. It was so easy, I had the world - well, a little bit of the world anyway -at my feet and all I had to do was say yes."

"Why didn't you?" He asked quietly.

"Because I'm stubborn as hell and refuse to have help from anyone," I quipped sardonically, and his lips tilted in a slight amused smile. It was a good enough signal as any - I felt the air rush out from my lungs and I knew how to breathe again. "It was pulling strings to get in, and I didn't want that. I didn't want people to look at me and say, 'oh, look, she didn't get in on her own'. Although back then I didn't think about the alternative - that people were going to point at me and say, 'oh, look, she didn't get into a college'. I was still deliberating a long time after, and I couldn't really make up my mind. Then I met you."

Miles's eyes widened. "Me?" he repeated sceptically, and I nodded.

"Yeah. And everything fell into place. I knew, for a fact, that I didn't want to be a part of it, any of it. You know that Ursa and Corvus plan their initiation and hazing together. And I thought how I'd have to see you, not just you but others like you, other scared faces and crying faces and disappointed faces, year after year after year. And I wasn't going to be on the receiving end like you are, I was going to be the one doing it to them and fuck, it just pushed me over the edge - "

My voice broke off and I shut my eyes when I felt his fingers slide up my arms tentatively. And then he was pulling me towards him, until I was curled up on his lap, my arms wound tightly around his neck, his arms wrapped firmly around my waist. His breath was steady against my skin and I inhaled deeply, breathing in a scent that was purely him.

"It's okay," he murmured. I felt his fingers gloss up my spine and down again, up and down, as though they were the only two directions he knew. "It's alright."

I pulled back, a frown on my face. "No, it's not," I explained softly. "I am so sorry I didn't tell you this earlier. If I had, I would've saved you a whole lot of trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"I meant - " and this was the hardest part to say " - if I had accepted a spot in Ursa, I could've pulled strings and gotten you into Corvus. Immediately. No questions asked. It would've saved you a whole lot of trouble. But I didn't because a part of me didn't want to be in Ursa, ever, and another half of me didn't want you to look at me the way you look at them."

"I don't look at them any different," he began but I shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips.

"Actually, you do. You don't see it but I do. I've seen the way you look at Liam when he comes into the shack, or Marcel. It's the same way you probably looked at the kids who bullied you in middle school. You look at them like they're the fixture of every bad dream you have when you go to sleep," I explained and the hesitation in his eyes told me I was right. I hadn't deciphered him wrongly.

"I did, to be honest," he confessed, his cheeks flushing lightly. "I used to have nightmares back in middle school."

"Exactly. I didn't want that. But I'm going to fix this, I promise," his eyebrows knitted at my resolute tone and I smiled softly to assuage his worries. "I'll call the sorority and tell them I've reconsidered my decision. It'll probably take a bit of pleading on my part but I'm sure Marcel will help. She's already in Ursa, by the way; she'll be a permanent member when school starts for her. Then when I'll get in, you'll be able to get into Corvus."

"Wait, why are you - "

"So you wouldn't have to go through the Durden."

His eyes widened and for once, he was speechless. Miles seldom spoke much but he always had something to say when the time came for him to speak. This time, however, he was completely silent. There was an undecipherable expression in his eyes, and I was just about to break the silence when he leaned forward and captured my lips with his.

This kiss was unlike its predecessors. His movements were neither slow nor calculated, neither testing nor hesitant. Instead, it seemed like he'd let down all his inhibitions and worries for once. The insistence of his lips took me by surprise and I couldn't help but let out a little gasp, to which he immediately used to his advantage and slipped his tongue between my lips, not teasing but gorging on my taste.

I was slowly losing myself in this, in him, and previous conclusions that I had things well under control were but fleeting notions. Sifting my fingers through the soft locks of his hair, I let out a shaky breath and kissed him back with every fibre of my being. I felt one of his hands tangle itself in my hair while his other hand gripped my waist tightly, sliding between the crevice where my shirt didn't cover my skin, tracing dangerous patterns with his fingertips.

It seemed like he was sending me a message with his lips, spelling out letters and words with his tongue and fingers. And with his tongue and fingertips he seemed to say no shut it all out the world is irrelevant what you said is irrelevant they don't matter nothing matters just listen listen listen:

I love you.