Private School Kings

The Fallen Lord

Fletcher set his eyes on the newly arrived plates. I understood now why his sandwich was called 'The Deluxe'. It appeared to be topped with every meat imaginable, and it was almost the size of his head, but he didn't hesitate to take a giant bite. I'd never seen somebody open their mouth so wide. It was like he was a snake, the kind that unhinged its jaw and swallowed mice whole. I would have laughed if the tension in the room wasn't cutting through the air like a knife.

Fletcher chewed, somehow managing to swallow, and his eyes met mine. "I wasn't always friendless," He said with a wry grin. It was like he was letting me in on an inside joke, only I wasn't quite sure of the punchline. "I mean, not everyone used to hate me." When I didn't respond he leaned in. "You've probably noticed they do now."

"Can't imagine why," I said, picking at the corner of my grilled cheese. I'd never seen one like this. There must have been four different kinds of cheese under the perfectly toasted bread. It was fancy. Up until that point, I didn't know you could make a fancy grilled cheese.

Fletcher took my jab in stride. "I actually used to be friends with some of the Lords."

That got my attention. "What?" Fletcher hated them so vehemently. I couldn't imagine him ever willingly associating with Tim or any of the others.

"Yeah, my best friend, Magnus," He said the name with such weight, like it was a gift he was giving me. "We were close since we were kids... Our families are good friends. So, it was almost like we were destined to be... Well, we were like brothers." His eyes fell to his plate, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, but his face was drawn. All trace of humor was gone. I couldn't read whatever emotions had replaced it. He'd gone blank, like someone had passed an eraser straight across his face and wiped away everything that made him who he was. Even his freckles looked washed out. "Magnus was--"

I felt myself gasp at the word was, the way he'd so put it so purposefully into the past tense.

Whether or not he registered my surprise he gave no acknowledgment. "He was a great guy. Definitely better than me, but he wanted to be liked. He needed to be liked... so badly. That's why he joined the Lords. Not for the power like everyone else." He ran a hand over his hair, disrupting the waves of dark locks. "He was never going to be king. I don't even know if he wanted to be one, but Junior Lords compete. It's just what they do. He didn't have a choice."

I didn't know if I agreed with that. In my experience people usually had a choice, especially when they said they had none. A bad choice was still a choice. But I didn't say anything. Even I knew not to say anything with Fletcher looking so unnervingly blank.

"The King competition is different every year, but when we were juniors the King, Chuck Humphrey-"

"Like Talia Humphrey?" I cut in.

"Yeah," He jolted, like by interrupting him I'd broken a spell. "Yeah... You think she's bad, Chuck was awful... but kind of an idiot. He had-" He tripped over the next word. "He had them doing pretty generic frat boy stuff for the King competitions." When he paused there was a long silence. I didn't dare break it. "Magnus," Like before, he said the name like it was a delicate, beautiful, thing. "He'd made it pretty far, to everyone's surprise, I think. There were only a couple of guys left in the running and Humphrey had them doing this stupid drinking challenge, like balancing on this table and chugging beers..." When Fletcher looked at me he didn't really look sad or angry. He just looked exhausted. "It was a big thing. All the Lords were watching. Some of the Lord's girls too. So when Magnus fell, there were tons of people around. There were plenty of people who could've checked on him..." He went quiet.

"They didn't." I guessed, my voice barely a whisper.

"They didn't." He affirmed. "So no one noticed the blood." He raised a hand to touch his temple, painting an imaginary scar across his brow. I blinked hard. There were tears welling in my eyes. Fletcher's story had stirred up too many things I didn't want to think about, and his flat emotionless face was just making it worse. I didn't want to know what happened to Magnus. I didn't want to know if- "He died." Fletcher said. His tone was matter of fact, but I detected a faint tremor beneath his careful words.