She rattled off the entire order in one breath, like she was trying to reclaim every calorie she'd burned that morning.
Ethan smiled and agreed. "Alright, alright. Go find seats, I'll get in line."
Using his height to his advantage, he quickly squeezed into a window with a shorter line.
Ashley and Taylor got lucky and snagged a four-person table in the corner.
The second she sat down, Taylor collapsed face-first onto the table, completely done, groaning, "Ugh... I feel like everything's been wrung out of me... Ashley, do you think the afternoon is going to be even worse?"
Ashley pulled out a tissue, wiped down the table and chair, then handed Taylor a sweat wipe, her voice calm and reassuring. "Push through and we win, Taylor. We'll cheer each other on this afternoon."
A little while later, Ethan came back balancing two stacked trays.
Braised ribs glazed and shiny a big chicken leg with a charred, fragrant crust, a side of stir-fried broccoli.
"OKAY Ethan, you never disappoint!!"
Taylor's eyes lit up the second she saw the food. She sat bolt upright, grabbed her fork, and went straight for the ribs. "Mmm... Oh my god... I'm alive again. This is what life is about."
Ashley looked at the spread and smiled softly. "Thank you, Ethan."
Ethan set down his tray, dropped into his seat, and picked up his fork. "Stop being so formal with me. You say that every time. Just eat — you've been on your feet all morning."
The three of them dug in.
Taylor ate with zero restraint, cheeks stuffed, muffled voice going a mile a minute — recapping the morning's training, reenacting the moment she chased off those guys, vivid and dramatic enough to make Ashley genuinely laugh.
Ethan ate more quietly, occasionally refilling their drinks, half-listening to Taylor's commentary, and every so often glancing over at Ashley, who was eating beside him without saying much.
Ashley had excellent table manners — small bites, calm movements. Even in the middle of a packed, noisy dining hall, she had this effortless composure about her.
She caught Ethan looking, glanced up, gave a small smile, then picked up a rib and set it in his bowl. "You should eat more too, Ethan."
Ethan blinked for a second, then smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Ashley."
Taylor clocked the whole exchange immediately and lost it. "HEY. Favoritism!! I want ribs too!!" She shoved her bowl forward dramatically.
Ashley smiled and dropped a piece in for her. "Eat, you bottomless pit."
Ethan looked between the two of them, the smile at the corner of his mouth deepening.
This — easy, warm, no pretense — was something he genuinely valued.
He asked casually, "What time does afternoon training start?"
"Two thirty!! Which means we can actually nap for a bit!!"
Taylor answered immediately, then her face fell again. "Just thinking about standing at attention again makes me want to... ugh."
Ashley said gently, "Rest well so you have the stamina for it." She glanced at Ethan. "Ethan, this afternoon you're..."
"I might have something going on, so I probably won't be on the yard."
Ethan said, "But I'll try to arrange the water and watermelon for you guys."
He could just work something out with the lady at the campus convenience store.
"Legendary!!"
Taylor gave him a thumbs up. "With you around, training drops from a ten to like a four. Seriously, it must be so nice not having to do this."
The three of them ate and talked, the conversation drifting between complaints about training and funny stories from their dorms.
Ashley listened mostly, chiming in every now and then, expression easy and warm.
Ethan tossed out the occasional joke that made Taylor burst out laughing, which always pulled a deeper smile out of Ashley too.
Lunch in a packed, loud dining hall — but somehow, with the right company, it felt genuinely good.
They only got up once the trays were nearly empty and the lunch break was almost over.
"Ethan, we're going back to the dorm to lie like corpses," Taylor announced, rubbing her stuffed stomach.
"Good luck this afternoon." Ethan nodded.
Ashley looked at him. "Don't overwork yourself either, Ethan. If you're busy this afternoon, don't bother coming."
"I'll be fine, I've got the easy end of the deal here."
Ethan waved them off. "Go on."
He watched Ashley and Taylor lean on each other as they shuffled slowly toward the residence halls, then turned and headed in the opposite direction.
The sun was still blazing. But somehow it didn't feel as oppressive anymore.
Not that he'd say any of that out loud — if he did, he'd absolutely get roasted. You have no training, no suffering, and you're talking about the sun being 'not so bad'? Easy for you to say.
...
That afternoon, Ethan had originally planned to drive over to NYU Tandon to hang out with Robert and catch up.
But then he looked out the window at the punishing sun and reconsidered. Robert's school was probably deep in their own brutal training right now — showing up there wouldn't exactly be fun for either of them. He scrapped the idea.
"Forget it, another day." He muttered, turned the wheel, and cruised into the busy student strip just outside campus, pulling into a gaming café called GameZone 24HR.
Cheap rates, great AC — perfect way to burn an afternoon.
He booted up a machine, put on his headphones, and let himself get pulled into the chaos of Call of Duty.
But even mid-game, he didn't forget what actually mattered.
During a loading screen, he pulled out his phone and called the woman who ran the campus convenience store. "Hey, it's Ethan. Could you bring two chilled watermelons over to the yard around three, along with some cold Gatorade and water..."
He gave her the details — one delivery for Taylor and Ashley's formation, one for Marcus's Business Admin Class 2.
Payment went through Venmo on the spot.
She was more than happy to do it. Easy money was always welcome.
The afternoon blurred by — keyboard clicks, the occasional shout from nearby players, the hum of the AC.
It wasn't until the faint sound of dismissal whistles and the noise of students flooding off the yard drifted in that Ethan finally quit out and made his way back to campus.
The freshmen had been standing out there until nearly sunset before they were finally let go.
Before dismissal, the instructor made a point of saying today was just a warm-up and the real thing started tomorrow. That landed like a rock in everyone's chest. Collective devastation swept through the crowd.
Somewhere in the dispersing mass, Nora's figure stood out.
Her face was nearly white, lips dry and cracked, steps slow and unsteady.
Years of poor nutrition had left her with a frailty that intense physical training simply overwhelmed — like everything had been drained out of her, leaving just enough to keep moving.
She pushed through the dizziness and the ache in her limbs, kept her head down, and forced herself forward with the crowd toward the dining hall.
She hadn't gone far when she heard a voice behind her.
"Nora."
Almost nobody at school called her that. With a voice like that, she didn't even need to turn around to know who it was.
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