“I don’t know,” I say. “But something is not right.”

THE HUGE, GLEAMING Malkin Athletic Center is buzzing with life when we finally get there. At the main desk inside is a heavyset, round-faced kid with hair hanging in his face, eyes fixed on his lap at what I’m guessing is his phone hidden from view. There’s a big, unfortunate sign on the counter next to him that reads No Admittance Without Proper University ID.

“Hi,” I say when the kid still does not look up.

“Yeah?” he asks and not at all in a friendly way.

Shame, that’s what I feel when his eyes finally flick in my direction. There is no mistaking it. Like maybe we caught him surfing porn. But his shame feels less specific than that. For sure, he wants us to disappear. No, wait. That’s not it. He wants for him to disappear.

“We’re looking for my brother, Leo Berkowitz. He’s on the crew team.” I worked out the lie right after we left Rachel’s house. And I feel pretty good about it. “There’s been a family emergency. Leo’s phone is off, and I can’t find him. I know he comes here a lot.”

Family emergency sounds like death or serious injury and is also vague enough to discourage follow-up questions.

“You got ID?” The kid points toward the sign. He is totally and completely unmoved.

“Um, I don’t go to school here, so how would I have ID?” I ask slowly, trying to read my way through to this kid. Trying to figure out what might make me more sympathetic, make him more likely to help. But I am coming up empty. Like maybe nothing will. “I only want to run into the weight room and see if Leo is there or if anyone’s seen him. It’ll only take a second. Like I said, it’s a family emergency.”

But the kid is already shaking his head again. He points to the sign again. “No ID, no inside,” he says, pleased with himself and the certainty of his job.

“Then could you go in the weight room and see if he’s there? Or if anyone knows where he is?” I ask. This is not my first choice, but I’ll take it. I need to find Leo.

The kid makes a kind of snorting noise. “No way.”

Ah, that’s what his shame is about. The students who use the center. The athletes. At some point, he was harassed, made a fool of, casually abused by some big, muscular guys in that weight room. And ever since, he’s kept his head so far down his forehead is attached to the floor. Or something like that. I’ll have to use it, too. It’s all I have.