CHAPTER 337: ATTACK ON MICAH: DORMITORY UPRISING

Micah said goodbye to Willow with a light wave before heading toward his afternoon class. His feet moved on instinct, but his mind was preoccupied with what she had told him. Plans, counterplans, and worries about what he should do next stacked one atop another until he could hardly hear his professor’s voice. He sat through the entire lecture staring at the board, pen resting uselessly in his hand, not even realising when his classmates began to pack up.

By the time he blinked and looked around, the room was already empty. Somehow, without remembering the walk, Micah found himself back in the dormitory corridor, standing before the door of room 306.

His shoulders slumped. He rubbed his face with both hands and let out a long sigh, the sound muffled against his palms. "Alright," he muttered to himself, "time to face the angry birds."

He pressed his ear against the door first, just in case. Silence. No footsteps, no voices. Maybe... just maybe they hadn’t come back.

He knew this was his wishful thinking.

Micah braced himself, rolling his shoulders back like a soldier heading to the battlefield. His hand lingered on the knob before gingerly pushing it open a crack and peeking inside.

"Hello...?" he tried cautiously.

Something whizzed through the air with a sharp hiss.

A slipper.

Micah jerked his head on instinct, and the slipper smacked against the doorframe with a heavy thwack.

"Fuck! What was that?" Micah yelped, throwing the door wide.

That wasn’t the end of it.

The room erupted into chaos. A pillow came flying at his chest. A rolled-up magazine smacked his shoulder. A smelly sock ball bounced off his knee. Micah flailed his arms in front of his face, ducking and weaving as best he could, but still a hardcover book grazed the side of his head.

"Hey! Ow, ow! Stop it!"

From the other side of the room, Nick stood on his bed like an avenger, hurling whatever he could grab. Eddie was the opposite of him, digging into the desks for more ammunition. Their faces were flushed red with righteous fury, eyes blazing.

"You asshole!" Nick roared. "How could you not tell us?"

"Traitor!" Eddie added, furious.

Micah stumbled further inside, arms shielding his head. "I’m sorry, okay?!"

"Give me back my scrumptious meal!" Nick yelled.

Micah’s gaze fell on the corner where Emile was sitting comfortably on his bed, one leg crossed over the other. The bastard hadn’t moved an inch, just watching the spectacle with relish.

"Emile! Don’t just sit there! Help me!" Micah whined, dodging another pillow.

But Emile leaned back on his elbows, looking far too amused. "Mm. And ruin the show? Not a chance," he said with a grin.

Micah cursed, half ducking, half running toward the safety of his bed. Another slipper flew past his ear. "Shit! Why are you guys so angry?"

"Why? You ask why!" Nick pointed an accusing finger. "First, you didn’t even tell us it was your birthday, then you went to that esports tournament with just Darcy! And after that, you ditched us to go to that fancy birthday party of yours!"

"What, you think you’re too good for us now?" Eddie said, launching a shoe at him.

Micah crouched low, arms over his head. "No... no! You’ve got it wrong. I thought you guys would be uncomfortable surrounded by those prickly uptight-ass people."

"Who cares about that!" Nick shrieked. "I want fancy food!"

"What about the tournament then?" Eddie demanded. "How could you not tell us about that and go ahead playing with big shots?"

"Wait, wait...How do you even know about it?" Micah asked, confused.

Nick grabbed the nearest bag and flung it at him. "You shameless dumbass! You’ve got some nerve trying to interrogate us?"

Micah ducked, but Eddie lunged forward in a flash. "Wait till I get my hands on you!"

They collided with a thud, both tumbling onto the nearest bed. Nick pounced a second later. In seconds, Micah was pinned flat, Eddie grabbing his wrists while Nick latched onto his ankles.

"Let go! Hey. Stop! Ow!" Micah resisted, kicking and twisting like a fish caught in a net. "I said I’m sorry."

His captors were merciless. Nick smacked his thigh with a pillow while Eddie jabbed his ribs mercilessly, laughing at his helpless wriggling.

"I’ll do anything you guys say," Micah pleaded, voice cracking between laughter and desperation. "Just let me go!"

But they did not stop.

"Time out!" Micah wheezed, face turning red. "Okay, okay! I will treat you guys to takeout tonight!"

That made them pause.

Micah, breathless, asked them again. "Seriously, though...how did you know that I was in the Esports tournament?"

"Russell told us. He was looking for you Friday night!" Nick said, catching his breath.

Micah’s expression darkened instantly. He gritted his teeth. That fool with his big mouth! "Who else knows?"

"Oh, that you are Frosty?" Eddie snickered, poking Micah’s side again.

Micah froze. "Damn it! That blabbermouth! He even told you that?"

"Right," Nick said, nodding. "He is too damn naive. I barely had to push, and he spilled everything. Man, I should join the police. I’ve got a real knack for interrogation, right?"

"Right, my ass," Eddie mocked. "He was drunk, you loony."

Nick smacked Eddie’s arm. "Hey!"

Micah bit his lip. "Unbelievable. Who else did he tell?" Micah asked, feeling a headache forming on his temple.

"Relax. Just us. We kinda put him to sleep before he could announce it to the whole campus," Nick said.

"Thank you, guys. You two might’ve actually saved my ass." Micah sighed in relief.

The thanks lasted about two seconds.

Then the two began their next attack. Nick jabbed his underarm, aiming for tickling, while Eddie smacked his shin.

"Ow. Ouch! Hey, quit it. I thought we’d called it a truce." Micah yelped.

"What truce? I am heartbroken! Do you know what you denied me? My premium beef! King shrimp! Caviar! Sparkly champagne! Top-notch dessert and cake! You robbed me of all of it!" Nick wailed in despair.

"My chance at meeting a gorgeous, rich girlfriend! Gone!" Eddie joined in, hitting his stomach.

Micah twisted, trying to wiggle out from between them, but both held him in place. He was laughing and crying at the same time, struggling to push them off while dodging their playful smacks. "Stop... stop," he half laughed, tears prickling at his eyes from the sheer ridiculousness. His hair was a mess, his shirt crumbled, his chest heaving with laughter.