“Yeah, like something that would make Aston think twice about being such a little bitch about shit like this.”

The next morning Hutch organized twelve third-formers to stand up and walk out of Chapel. Later that day as Ben was coming into the Dish, Hutch was there in the common room and walked up as though he had been waiting alone for Ben to arrive.

“What the hell?” he said.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you walk out?”

“Walk out? I’m on crutches.”

“So? Think of how intense it would have been if you had walked out and everyone would have been like, ‘Whoa, he even walked out on crutches.’ And to have you, like the squash guy, walk out, that would mean something.”

Ben in the warmth of this flattery didn’t answer for a second. “All right, next time.”

“No, this time,” Hutch said, looking away. “No fucking maybe.” And he turned and walked off down the arcade hallway.

In the Schoolhouse and at the Den, Ben didn’t hear anyone talking about anything else.

“If newbs can do whatever they want, they’ll never learn how to handle themselves.”

“Ennis was everything right and badass about this school.”

“Fucking administration just makes decisions for how it looks.”

“His family hired this like admissions expert to work on his college applications with him. They curated his extracurrics and the guy edited his essays like four or five times. All that and then to get kicked out.”

“They wouldn’t’ve touched Ennis if Ahmed’s dad didn’t have a kerfrillion dollars.”

A Confederate flag appeared briefly below the windows of the Chute before Dennett confiscated it.

Ahmed’s life got considerably harder, and the fact that he was still almost bald didn’t seem to win him much mercy. Twice his clean shirts went missing and ended up in the ditch along the site for the pool.

Hutch continued to organize. On the way to classes, people would draw up beside Ahmed and walk him off the path. Guys saved eggs and fish from the dining hall, left them in Tupperware containers, then opened them in the bottom of Ahmed’s gym locker when he was in the shower.

Hutch talked at lunch about pulling some bigger prank—somehow getting the Rector’s car into the chapel, putting bike locks through all the door handles of the Schoolhouse—something to bring the school to a halt, to let students get their hands around the school’s windpipe.

Whereas before, Ahmed would stand in the Dish Common Room making conversation with everyone, now a group of girls would surround him with their backs to him, talking with a corresponding ring of guys, preventing him from leaving or speaking with anyone. Ben was amazed; no one had seemed to really like Ennis all that much. Faculty intervened as much as they could, but that almost made it worse.

“What are you doing in the room?” Hutch asked Ben.