BEN GINGERLY WALKED BACK TO HAWLEY WITH HIS BAGS. HE wanted to see Markson again. He wanted to dispute a few parts of the Companion. Even though he had just gotten off a bus full of other students, it seemed in the cold and the coming dusk that he was in private, that if he stopped on the path and started talking loudly to himself, no one would hear him. He wondered whether Alice was back yet.

He pulled open the back door to Hawley. The entryway light was out and he thought he should mention it to Dennett.

The door closed behind him and a shape moved from his right into his ribs and slammed him into the wall and he dropped his bags, and then he was on his back on the floor. There were three people there, one kneeling on each of his arms and one sitting on his legs. He was scared they would rebreak his healing leg, but both legs hurt just the same. The shape on his right arm unzipped Ben’s jacket and Ben felt knuckle edges pressing into his sternum. Ben spasmed in the floor’s grit and he pulled his arms and legs in as hard as he could and the kid on the right slipped slightly, and he managed to twist his right arm free for long enough to punch the person on his other arm weakly. Immediately that arm was back on the floor under two shins, and no matter how hard he pulled, he stayed pinned, and a breathless voice came up to his ear.

“This happens every day until you wrestle.” Again the knuckles met his sternum, and with each syllable they dug in. “Every. Day.”

They stood up off him, one of them punched open the door and they were all gone into the cold.

Ben turned on his side and lay there, pulling in air and trying to make his arms work. Eventually he could stand, and he made his way up the stairs and came into dark, empty room 24 and let the bags slide to the floor.

When Ahmed arrived, he shook Ben’s hand tightly and said his parents hadn’t minded his short hair when he told them that the soccer team all did it together.

*  *  *

Three days later Ben found Markson as he was leaving the Dish. They walked out together into the chastening dusk.

“Do you know anything else about the tuition situation?” Ben asked.

“Not a ton new. My understanding is that if they don’t get a check before January first they’ll move you to financial aid for the new year.”

Without discussing it they started walking down from the Dish toward the library. Before he lost momentum, Ben said he thought he might want to quit squash.

“Okay,” said Markson, much less surprised than Ben thought he would be. “How come?”