Page 151 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“So he made it up?”

“I don't know.”

“Why would he?”

Elliot looked toward the windows. His own reflection looked back. Dark blond hair. Soft green sweater. Bare feet. Nothing remotely frightening.

“He hated me.”

“Lucas?”

“Yes.”

Ronan went still. There. The first piece. Not everything. Enough.

“Why?”

Elliot folded his arms.

“Because I embarrassed him.”

“When?”

“September.”

“How?”

Ronan waited. Elliot thought about the night. Lucas outside Bellweather Tap with two friends. A freshman standing several feet away pretending not to listen. Lucas laughing about a video. Not Mason's. Another one. Different kid. Same game. Elliot had intervened. Not violently. Publicly. Which, for someone like Lucas, had been worse.

“He was talking shit about someone,” Elliot said.

“Who?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“Clearly it does.”

“A freshman.”

“The same one?”

“No.”

Ronan stared.

“How many fucking freshmen were these people terrorizing?”

Elliot almost smiled. That reaction helped. Good.

“Enough.”

“What'd you do?”

“Told him to stop.”

“And that scared him?”

“No.”