Page 47 of Freshman

Both gates clanged open, and Alfie heard footsteps rushing to him. Even with them running, he doubted they were going to get to him in time.

Alfie scrunched his face and raised his hands to cover himself. Nate was going to kill him and defending himself was futile, but he didn’t want to die looking like he accepted it.

No punch came at him, and the next time Alfie opened his eyes, Nate was pinned to the wall by the two officers. He didn’t look at Alfie. Even when they dragged him away, he didn’t shoot back a venomous glare. In what felt like a couple of seconds, Nate was gone.

Alfie clutched his hair and forced in a breath. He looked down at the red on the floor and wiped his boot against the droplets, wanting them to be gone, wanting the moment to have never happened. He hit Nate. He lashed out and lost it because he couldn’t control the swirl of confusion in his head.

The door to Ryan’s office swung open, and Alfie flashed a look at his senior officer.

“What just happened?”

Alfie couldn’t speak, only just had enough power over himself to reclaim his jaw and shut it.

He had fucked up big time.

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Alfie took a tentative step into the office. His legs were weak, and he grabbed for the back of the chair to keep himself up. “I just punched Nate Mathews in the face.”

Ryan widened his eyes and opened and closed his mouth a few times before recovering. “That…that is a serious breach of protocol.”

Alfie shook his head and stared at the scuffed carpet. “I know. I—I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe I did it.”

Ryan frowned. “Neither can I. Are you sure?”

“I punched him in the face.”

Ryan flicked his chin at the chair and circled behind the desk. “Was it self-defence?”

Alfie managed to move one foot in front of the other and sank down on the wooden chair. He stared at the etchings in the desk. The word ‘Wanker’ was carved into the top. Henry had told Alfie a prisoner had done it, but Alfie thought it was more likely a prison officer.

“Alfie!”

“No, I just… I lost it.”

He dragged his eyes off the worn desk and looked at Ryan. He expected to see disgust and disappointment, but instead Ryan wore an expression of curiosity. He rubbed at the strip of hair on his chin, staring into space.

“You hit Nate Mathews, and he didn’t hit you back?”

“No, the two guys on the gates got there first.”

Ryan nodded. “You’ll have to thank them. If Dave and Mike weren’t there, I doubt you’d still be breathing.”

“What—what happens now?”

Ryan shrugged. “I need to talk to Dave and Mike.”

Ryan reached for his radio, and it hissed back. He asked for Dave and Mike, and they both responded they were on the way.

“I punched him in the face.”

“Will you stop saying that,” Ryan mumbled.

Alfie snapped his mouth shut and stared down at his restless hands. His plan of resigning was forgotten. He would be punished, was no better than some of the low-level offenders in G-wing. He stared down at his knuckles, curling his hand into a throbbing fist.

Nate had pushed his buttons, had been plucking at the nerves in his brain since the lights went out last night, and it accumulated in Alfie lashing out. He hated Nate, but staring at his reddened fist, he hated himself more.

A knock sounded on the door, and Alfie turned slowly toward it.

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