The Walk Back

The path back to the dorms was quieter than the main quad.

Most of the energy of the club fair still lingered behind them near the fountain and the long rows of tents. Music drifted faintly across the evening air, and somewhere someone was still calling out to passing freshmen about joining a debate club.

But out here the campus felt calmer.

The brick path curved between lawns and tall trees that had already begun catching the golden color of early evening.

Chris walked with Tom, Bronson, and Malik along the path that led toward the residence halls.

He was only half listening to the campus around him.

Part of his mind was still back at the WSA stand.

Maya's raised voice. The circle of people watching. The familiar feeling of knowing exactly how the argument would go if he let it continue.

Shouting. Accusations. Phones coming out.

And in the end someone posting a thirty‑second clip online that made it look like he started the whole thing.

He had learned a long time ago that sometimes the smartest move was simply not to play the game.

Still… it was exhausting.

And then there was Cora.

The image replayed in his mind again without him meaning it to.

The way she had looked at him when Maya went off.

Not hostile.

Not supportive either.

Just… conflicted.

Chris wasn't even sure why that bothered him as much as it did.

He barely knew her.

Yet somehow he kept replaying the moment anyway.

For a minute no one said anything.

They were still shaking off the noise of the fair.

Tom lasted about thirty seconds.

"So," he said.

Chris immediately sighed.

"Don't," he said.

Tom looked innocent.

"Coffee," he finished anyway.

Bronson barked out a laugh.

"Oh this is good," he said. "First day on campus and we're already doing the cliché freshman thing— arguing about girls from the club fair."

Chris rubbed the back of his neck.

"You guys are unbelievable."

Tom nudged him with his elbow.

"You stared at her for like ten seconds," he said.

"I did not."

"You absolutely did," Tom replied.

Bronson nodded thoughtfully.

"Maybe eight," he said. "But emotionally it felt like hours."

Chris shook his head.

Tom always did this—poke until someone reacted. Chris usually let it slide. Easier than explaining anything.

"Shut up."

They kept walking across the lawn.

Behind them the WSA stand was just barely visible now — a cluster of lights and figures near the edge of the quad.

After a few steps Tom kicked a pebble across the path.

"Still," he said. "That thing with Maya earlier was wild."

Chris exhaled slightly.

He could already feel the argument replaying in his head. Not the words—just the energy of it. The trap of it.

"Yeah. Nothing new," he said.

Bronson glanced sideways at him.

"Honestly?" he said.

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

Bronson shrugged.

"You handled it fine."

Tom looked surprised.

"Really?"

Bronson nodded.

"Yeah. Because situations like that almost always end the same way."

Chris looked at him.

"How?"

Bronson smirked.

"A shouting duel," he said. "Shouting, accusing, phones out filming everything— and in the end somehow we guys are the problem."

Tom groaned immediately.

"Oh man," he said. "Yeah. I can already hear it."

Bronson raised his hands dramatically.

"'You people!'" he said in an exaggerated voice.

Tom answered with equal theatrics.

"'No YOU people!'"

Malik let out a small laugh at first, but it faded quickly. His shoulders tightened slightly as he looked down at the path.

For a moment he said nothing.

"Hey," Bronson said after a few steps, noticing. "You good?"

Malik hesitated.

"Yeah," he said quickly. "I just…"

He rubbed the back of his neck again.

"When stuff like that happens," he said carefully, "people start talking about sides. Race. Who’s supposed to defend who."

Tom frowned.

"What does that have to do with you?" he asked.

Malik looked a little embarrassed.

"I don’t know," he admitted. "It just… sometimes it feels like I’m supposed to pick a side. Like because I’m black I’m expected to back Maya, even if she’s just starting a fight."

Chris shook his head immediately.

"That’s not how it works," he said.

Bronson stopped walking and looked straight at Malik.

"Yeah," he said. "You don’t owe anyone that."

Malik looked up.

Bronson shrugged lightly.

"You don’t have to take a side because of your skin color," he said. "Do what you actually think is right."

He gave Malik a small nudge with his shoulder.

"If that means staying out of it, stay out of it. If it means backing your friends, do that."

Bronson gave a short smile.

"None of that has anything to do with being black or white."

Chris shook his head but couldn't help smiling slightly.

"Exactly," Bronson said. "And then suddenly it's not about whatever started the conversation anymore. It's just two people yelling while everyone else films it."

Tom nodded slowly.

"Okay fair," he said.

Then he looked at Bronson again.

"Also," he added, "yesterday I thought you were just a dumb muscle guy."

Bronson looked mildly offended.

"Wow," he said.

Tom grinned.

"And now you're out here giving conflict analysis."

Bronson shrugged.

"Most people think that," he said calmly.

Tom blinked.

"Think what?"

"That I'm just a dumb muscle guy," Bronson said.

He smiled slightly.

"Makes life easier."

Chris laughed under his breath.

"You're enjoying that reputation way too much."

Bronson gave a lazy shrug.

"People tell you more when they underestimate you."

They kept walking for a moment.

Tom glanced back toward the quad.

"Still," he said, "Cora looked like she wanted to say something."

Chris frowned slightly.

The memory replayed briefly in his mind.

Cora standing there.

Looking tense.

Then staying quiet.

He shrugged.

"It was messy," he said. "I didn't want it turning into a whole thing."

Bronson nodded.

"Exactly."

They walked a few more steps before Chris spoke again.

"So," he said. "What do you guys actually think about that club?"

Tom shrugged.

"Seems organized," he said. "Which is already more than most student groups."

Bronson smirked slightly.

"That's one word for it."

Chris glanced sideways at him.

"You know more about them, don't you?"

Bronson shrugged casually.

"A little."

Tom looked between them.

"Meaning?"

Bronson took a few slow steps before answering.

"Meaning the WSA isn't really just a club," he said.

"It's networking."

Chris frowned slightly.

"Networking?"

"Connections," Bronson said. "People who help each other later. Jobs. Opportunities. Introductions."

Tom tilted his head.

"Sounds like a fraternity."

"Kind of," Bronson admitted. "Just less stupid rituals and more long‑term thinking."

Then he added almost casually:

"Also a lot of relationships start there."

Tom grinned immediately.

"Ah," he said. "Now we're getting to the important part."

Chris rolled his eyes.

"You two are impossible."

Tom pointed vaguely back toward the quad.

"Still," he said. "Your girl seemed interested."

Chris stopped walking for half a second.

Your girl.

The phrase annoyed him more than it should have.

He barely knew Cora. Still… the way she watched everything stuck with him.

"She is not my girl."

Bronson chuckled.

"Relax," he said. "But she did look like she felt bad."

Chris glanced at him.

"What do you mean?"

Bronson shrugged.

"When that Maya girl went after you," he said. "Cora looked like she wanted to say something but froze."

Chris didn't answer immediately.

"Maybe," he said finally.

They walked in silence for a moment.

Malik cleared his throat.

"Uh… guys?"

The others looked over.

"About earlier," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "With Maya. And… Cora."

Chris frowned.

"What about it?"

Malik hesitated.

"I just— wanted to say sorry," he said.

Tom blinked.

"Why are you apologizing?"

Malik shrugged awkwardly.

"I don't know. Since yesterday there's already been drama with that other guy and then today… it just looks bad."

Tom frowned.

"What does that have to do with you?"

Malik looked down.

"Sometimes it feels like I'm supposed to pick a side," he admitted quietly. "Like because I'm black I'm expected to back Maya. Even if she's just starting a fight."

Chris shook his head immediately.

"That's not how it works."

Bronson stopped walking.

"Yeah," he said. "You don't owe anyone that."

He nudged Malik lightly.

"Do what you actually think is right. Stay out of it if you want. Back your friends if you want."

Bronson shrugged.

"None of that has anything to do with being black or white."

Malik looked a little surprised.

"Thanks," he said.

Then he gestured down another path.

"Actually… I think I'll go meet Arjun. He mentioned a gaming lounge."

Tom smirked slightly.

"Nerd alliance," he said.

Malik laughed, waved, and headed toward the student center.