DURING THE LUNCH SHIFT, I chopped a lot of vegetables, washed a lot of pans and worried about Bella. I was in way over my head. Maybe a smarter man would have already gone to the dean and explained the situation. But some of what Bella had said rang true. What could they do, anyway? If Bella named the guy who’d brutalized her reputation, they could make him take the picture down. But that could take weeks, and the damage was already done.

Also, if I went to the dean she’d never speak to me again.

That was the wrong reason to keep her secret, though. I worried that my judgment was completely obliterated by all the complicated feelings I had for her. Every time I saw her square her shoulders against the latest indignity, I wanted to scoop her up and hold her close. Nice, right? Just what she needed—another guy to ogle her.

My job was just to be the best friend I could be. For right now, that meant watching and waiting. If Bella went to class, ate meals and went to work at the rink, then maybe I didn’t have to take any drastic action.

Before lunch was almost over, I went out to the salad bar with one last pan of lettuce.

“Hey,” someone said. “I didn’t catch your name the other day.”

I looked up to see Bella’s friend Graham. “It’s Rafe,” I told him.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Kinda working here,” I said, more annoyed with him than I ought to have been. But I was pretty sure this was the guy Bella had fallen for, and so I disliked him just on principle.

“It will just take a second.”

“All right.” I led him over to the door to the kitchen, where nobody else could hear. “What’s up?” I asked, noticing that Graham’s boyfriend had also joined us.

Graham got right to the point. “Who’s fucking with Bella?”

“I have no idea,” I said truthfully.

“It was someone from Beta Rho, though,” Graham said. “That website is theirs.”

“Sure,” I agreed. “But that’s… forty guys?”

Graham flushed. “Seriously, if you have any idea…”

Rikker put a hand on Graham’s shoulder. “He hears you, babe. Message received.”

Graham’s shoulders slumped. “I just… I hate that some asshole is getting away with this.”

“No kidding,” I grunted. “It’s all I think about.”

Rikker lifted his eyebrows. “Is it?”

Now they were both staring at me. “How do you know Bella, anyway?” Graham asked.

Smooth, Rafe. “We’re neighbors,” I said. There was a beat of silence during which both guys seemed to debate whether to ask me more questions. “Look. If you want to help Bella, make sure she eats dinner tonight. I’ll be at a team meal.”

Rikker’s eyebrows shot up again. “She’s not eating?”

“She’s avoiding public places,” I said. “Or maybe she isn’t anymore. But it would be great if you could check.”

“Done,” Graham said. “I’ll bring her some dinner.”

“I have to get back to work,” I said.

“Hey, thanks!” Rikker called after me.

I walked back into the kitchen, wondering why he was thanking me. Had I helped Bella at all?

I really had no idea.

The soccer schedule swallowed up my next few days. I cajoled Bella into running with me once more, and she came to Urban Studies class again. But for several days in a row, I didn’t see much of her.

My team made a road trip, where we beat Harvard and lost to Dartmouth. Bickley chattered in my ear all the way home from New Hampshire, when really all I wanted to do was sleep.

Bickley could afford to squander his time on gossip. But the second I stepped off that bus, I had to hustle to make a Sunday night dining hall shift.

Fighting exhaustion, I cut up chickens for three hours straight, and then chopped vegetables for tomorrow’s omelets.

Dinner service was almost over when I saw Bella slip into the dining hall. Good news. She got herself a plate and carried it over to sit by Graham and Rikker. I gave her a wave when I went out to pull trays off the salad bar.

“Hey, Graham?” I heard her ask. An edge in her voice made me linger nearby. “Do you have anything going on next Saturday night? I have a thing in New York that I have to go to, and I need a date. It’s an open bar.”

“What about my needs?” Rikker joked, his arms spread wide. “I like free drinks. And you’re stealing my date.”

Graham cleared his throat. “Um, guys? That’s the night of Skate with Harkness Hockey. I have to cover it, because a couple of Bruins players are supposed to show up, too.”

“Oh,” she said slowly. “The charity thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck,” Bella said. “The game schedule made that look like a night off.”

Rikker frowned. “Wait. I could come down with the flu, or something,” he suggested. “I don’t see why they need two dozen players out there.” He gave a faux cough into his hand. “I think I feel it coming on.”

Bella shook her head. “Yeah, and nobody would notice if the most famous Harkness teammate wasn’t there.”

Rikker grabbed her hand and stuck it on his forehead. “That’s a fever, right? Don’t I feel hot to you?”

She gave him a sad smile. “Don’t worry about it, Rik. It’s not a big deal.”

“I would totally blow it off, Bells.”

Bella stood. “Really, I’m good. Thanks anyway, guys.” She trotted over to the conveyor belt to bus her tray.

I caught up to her on the rebound. “Hey, Bella?”

She looked up, startled. “Yeah?”

“I can go to your thing in New York.”

Bella hesitated, which bummed me out a little bit. Maybe I wasn’t Upper East Side enough to be her date. “Are you sure?” she asked after a long pause.

“Well, I don’t have a game until Sunday night. So my mother decided that I should make an appearance at my little cousin’s christening on Sunday morning. I was supposed to take the train down anyway.”

“Huh.” She raised her eyes to mine. “The reason I asked Graham to go was because he already knows the story of my crazy family.”

Oh. “Well… how bad could they really be? You said there’d be drinks.”

She seemed to consider the question. “Drinks will help. I just hope we won’t need them too badly. With my family, you never know.” She bit her lip, and even though it was inappropriate of me to think this way, I kind of wanted to bite it, too. “If you’re sure it’s not a big inconvenience, I could really use the company.”

Holding up a hand for a high five, I said, “No problem. But first, we make some headway on the Urban Studies project.”

She slapped my hand. “Okay, slave driver.”

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