Eight

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Theodore's recovery progresses after a few days of much-needed bed rest. The swelling on his face has noticeably subsided, his muscles and bruises appear less inflamed. Although he still staggers when he walks, his overall stability has improved.

Despite receiving numerous calls and text messages from his fraternity brothers, Theodore chooses to ignore them all. The traumatic events of that fateful night continue to haunt him, causing his appetite to wither away, replaced by seething anger whenever he replays the images of those men kicking and spitting on him.

Adding to his turmoil, his father has called repeatedly, attempting to persuade him to save face. Their phone argument ended poorly, likely leaving them not speaking for weeks. Theodore anticipates his mother's intervention, as she typically plays peacemaker. However, he remains resolute and refuses to back down this time.

Theodore had known what to expect – the beatings and verbal abuse – but experiencing it firsthand has reshaped his perspective. He no longer sees these barbaric traditions as necessary or humane, especially given that some pledges have lost their lives due to such brutal hazing practices. He feels a deep sense of shame for willingly participating in them. Besides, whenever he recalls Steve's words against Jacob, his body locks up in rage.

Around midnight on Saturday, unable to sleep and craving something salty, Theodore makes his way to the convenience store a few blocks from his building. He grabs two packs of potato chips and approaches the fridge with caution. As he crouches down, extending his arm to reach for a bottle of beer, a sudden twinge of pain makes him cringe, clutching his ribs tightly.

"Need some help?" a voice interrupts.

Theodore lifts his head.

"Jake."

"Is one bottle enough?"

"Yeah..."

Jacob grabs two bottles of beer and offers a helping hand to Theodore, helping him regain his footing.

"How have you been?" Jacob inquires.

"Well, you know," Theodore mumbles. "Why are you still outside? It's midnight."

"I could ask you the same question."

"Couldn't sleep."

"Same."

The two of them walk toward the checkout counter, where the tired cashier gives them a casual glance and stifles a yawn.

"Together or separate?" the cashier asks.

"Together," Theodore answers firmly.

"No, it's--"

"I'll pay for it," Theodore says, snatching the beer. "It's the least I could do."

The cashier bags the chips and the bottles of beer, and the two leave the store.

Jacob raises his bottle and quips, "If I'd known I'd get free beer, I would've grabbed more. Thanks."

"Again," Theodore responds, "the least I could do."

"Can you go up by yourself?"

Theodore rolls his eyes at Jacob's concern. "Jake, I walked to get here."

"Just checking. You still seem to be in pain."

Theodore admits to himself that he is. Nightmares continue to jolt him awake at dawn, leaving his clothes soaked in sweat and his heart racing beyond its usual pace. That night still torments him. He wonders when he'll get over it. If he will ever get over it.

"I'll be alright," he replies, though doubt lingers in his voice.

"You have my number."

"Um, yeah..."

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