Sociology was in a different building, which meant navigating the campus again on a mental map built over one morning. Alice found the right room without much trouble, stepped inside, scanned the seats, and took one near the middle. Bag on the floor. Notebook out. Pen uncapped.
Then someone sat down next to him.
A girl. She settled in, dropped her bag, pulled out her things with the quiet efficiency of someone who had a system. She didn't look at Alice. She organized her notebook, uncapped her pen, and faced the front.
Alice went back to his own notebook.
Then she turned and looked at him. Not the slow, confused kind of looking. Just direct and easy, like she was simply acknowledging there was a person next to her and thought that was worth noting.
"Hi," she said, and stuck out her hand. "I'm Anna. Anna Schneider."
Alice looked at the hand.
Not to be rude. It had just genuinely been a while since anyone had led with a handshake. He'd gotten waves, nods, the occasional eyebrow raise that counted as a greeting if you squinted. But a full handshake, arm extended, waiting patiently. That was new.
Anna kept her hand out, expression easy, not rushing him.
Alice took it. They shook once.
Something in her face settled, like she'd been hoping for that. She smiled, brief and genuine, and turned back to the front of the room.
Alice waited.
Most people followed a handshake with a question, a comment, the beginning of a whole thing. He was already preparing a short answer to whatever was coming.
Nothing came.
Anna had opened her notebook and was writing the date at the top of the page with the focus of someone who was actually here to learn something. Not ignoring him. Not being cold. Just done. She'd said hello, introduced herself, shaken his hand. That was apparently the entire ceremony and she was satisfied with it.
Alice looked at his own notebook.
Huh.
He could work with that.
The class went smoothly. The professor had actually prepared, the slides made sense, the information was organized. Alice and Anna sat side by side in an easy quiet that didn't require anything from either of them. No questions directed his way. Just a room full of people learning about social structures while Alice made a mental note that sociology might be his favorite subject this semester.
He started noticing the clock at the three-hour forty-minute mark.
By fifty minutes he'd counted the ceiling tiles on his half of the room. By fifty-five he'd read ahead to the next chapter. By the time the professor mentioned the Thursday reading, Alice was already putting his pen away.
Class ended. Alice was on his feet. He looked over at Anna and gave a small wave. She noticed him already leaving and waved back.
He felt that was only appropriate.
I like her.
The parking lot was warm and bright and full of people heading somewhere else with urgency. He spotted Lucy's head before the rest of her, which was usually how it worked. Bryan was already at the car, leaning against the hood with his phone, the picture of someone entirely unbothered.
"Finally," Lucy said. "I've been standing here for ages."
"You have your phone," Alice said.
"That's not the point." She fell into step beside him. "Good first day or bad first day?"
"Middle. So-so."
"That's basically a good day for you. I'm counting it." She turned to Bryan. "Can we get food on the way back? I'm starving."
"You just had lunch," Bryan said.
"That was three hours ago."
"Three hours."
"I have a fast metabolism. What do you want from me?"
Alice's phone buzzed. He pulled it out.
A message from his mom.
Sweetheart, can you stop by the principal's office before you leave? They have something for me. I forgot to pick it up last week, sorry for the trouble!
He read it twice.
His mother had left something at the principal's office. At a school he'd only arrived at today. Which meant she'd been here before today. Which meant she knew the principal, or the principal was a client, or something else entirely that he wasn't going to figure out standing in a parking lot.
"I have to go to the principal's office," he said.
Lucy turned. "What did you do?"
"Nothing. Mom left something there."
"Do you want us to wait?"
"You don't have to."
"We'll wait," Bryan said, already moving back to lean against the car.
"It might take a while."
"We'll wait," he said again. Same tone, same calm.
Lucy held up a thumbs up. "We'll be here. Go. No sticks."
Alice gave her a look and started walking.
He found the main office building without trouble and was already planning the shortest route through the errand when he heard it.
Somewhere to his left, down a side path between two smaller buildings.
Crying.
Alice kept walking. People cry. The campus was full of strangers and he didn't know any of them well enough to get involved and he had somewhere to be.
He made it six more steps.
Then a shout. Sharp and frightened.
Then a second one, higher, from a voice he recognized.
Alice stopped. He looked at the ground near the path.
There was, somehow, inevitably, a stick.
A decent length. He had no idea where it had come from.
He picked it up and rounded the corner.
It was the upperclassman.
The same one from the abandoned room at lunch. He had his back to Alice, one hand locked around the wrist of a girl who was trying to pull away from him.
Her hair had come loose, strands falling across her face. Her bag was on the ground, things half-spilled out of it. Her eyes were red, her jaw tight in the way of someone who had been trying hard not to make noise and had mostly failed.
Anna Schneider.
The upperclassman heard footsteps and turned.
Alice looked at his face.
The first black eye from this morning, still swollen and dark. And a second one now, matching it on the other side. Both eyes ringed with deep purple, sitting perfectly symmetrical on his face. The overall effect was very specific.
Like a very irritated panda.
Alice pressed his free hand over his mouth.
The situation was not funny. There was a girl being held against her will and that was entirely not funny. But the face. August had done an incredibly even job.
He held it together.
The upperclassman registered that someone was standing there, specifically a girl holding a stick, and his expression moved from startled to outright offended. He let go of Anna's wrist and stepped toward Alice instead.
Alice noted this was probably a mistake.
He stopped holding it together long enough to swing.
Bonk.
The stick connected with the top of the upperclassman's head at an angle that was more decisive than powerful. It made exactly the sound you'd expect. The upperclassman stumbled back, more from surprise than force, and grabbed his head with both hands.
Anna had stopped crying entirely. She was staring at Alice with her mouth slightly open.
Alice stood with the stick.
The upperclassman was making the sound of a person who had many things to say and couldn't locate any of the words. He took his hands off his head and focused on Alice with the specific fury of someone who had just been bonked by a girl with a stick and found this personally disrespectful.
He started forward.
Alice raised the stick, ready to use it again.
Then footsteps came from the other end of the path, and both of them looked up.