Chapter 1

The night Sterling moved into Room 404, Knox slammed his hand on the desk and said, “The Floor Lead position should be rotated.”

Miles nodded along like a puppet. Sterling leaned back in his chair, a harmless smile plastered on his face.

I pulled the dorm key from my pocket and tossed it onto the table.

“Fine by me,” I said.

They froze. I could tell they had a whole speech prepared―some crap about “fairness and democracy” and “everyone having a voice.”

But I didn't even give them the chance to start.

The key spun twice on the wood and came to a dead stop.

I slept better than ever that night. They had no idea what was tucked away in my desk drawer.

It was a full-ride PhD offer from MIT’s Computer Science department. It had arrived three days ago.

1

On the third day of junior year, the department advisor sent a message to our group chat.

“Sterling Vance from the Business School is moving into 404. His building has a pipe burst, so he’s being temporarily reassigned to your room.”

Knox practically leaped off his bed. “Sterling Vance? The VP of the Student Government? I heard his dad donated an entire research wing to the university.”

Miles looked up from his stack of literature books. He was usually quiet, but his eyes lit up at the mention of a big shot.

“His dad’s company sponsored the Centennial Gala last semester. Sterling gave the keynote speech with the university president sitting right behind him.”

I didn't say a word. I just kept tweaking the parameters of my AI model.

At three in the afternoon, Sterling dragged a designer Rimowa suitcase through the door.

He was over six feet tall, wearing a crisp grey Polo, with every hair on his head perfectly in place.

The first thing he did wasn't to unpack. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a stack of gold-embossed business cards, and handed them out.

“You must be Silas, right?” The gold-edged card landed next to my keyboard.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. The coding genius of the CS department. Two top-tier conference papers already―you’re the local legend.”

His words were smooth. But as he said “legend,” his eyes flickered toward Knox and Miles.

It was a clear move. He was setting me up on a pedestal. If I gave him any attitude now, I’d look like a prick.

“Appreciate it,” I said, sliding the card to the side. “Your bed is the top bunk by the window. It’s empty.”

“Got it.” He turned around. “Hey Knox, mind giving me a hand with this?”

He was already on a first-name basis. Knox, a track-and-field star who stood six-foot-two, practically bowed to help him lift the suitcase.

At eleven that night, I turned off my desk lamp to sleep. In the dark, Sterling poked his head down from the top bunk.

His voice was just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“Silas, I heard you’ve been the Floor Lead for two years? That sounds like a lot of work.”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Must be exhausting,” he paused. “But I heard the Floor Lead gets a ten-point boost on their leadership evaluation. Is that true?”

“What? We never knew about that!” Knox’s voice came from the darkness.

“Well, who would go around telling people about a sweet deal like that, right, Silas?” Sterling’s voice dripped with fake innocence.

I didn't answer. He pulled his head back up.

After the lights went out, I heard Knox and Miles tossing and turning. Their phone screens stayed lit for hours.

I knew those two wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.

The next day at noon, Knox texted me: “Silas, floor meeting tonight.”

I stayed at the library until nine. When I pushed the door open, all three were there.

Sterling was lounging in his chair with his legs crossed, scrolling through his phone. Knox and Miles were sitting on their beds, looking like they were ready for an intervention.

“Silas is back,” Sterling said, putting his phone down.

“We were just talking. Knox had an idea that made a lot of sense. Since we all live here, shouldn't the Floor Lead position be rotated?”

He put a heavy emphasis on the words “Knox had an idea.”

Knox kept his head down, his ears turning bright red. He was nervously flicking a lighter over and over.

“Yeah,” Knox muttered. “You’ve done it for two years, Silas. You’ve gotten enough extra credit. It’s time to give someone else a shot.”

“I agree,” Miles chimed in, sounding like he was reciting a script. “Sterling said universities in Europe and the Ivy League all use a rotation system.”

Sterling spread his hands wide. “See? Three to one. What do you say, Silas?”

He said it like he was reading the weather report―objective, neutral, and final.

I pulled the key to 404 from my pocket and set it on the table.

“Fine. It’s all yours.”

My voice was quiet, but Sterling’s smile faltered for a split second.

I’d ruined his planned follow-up. He was ready to offer me a graceful exit, but I’d just handed over the power without a fight.

“Then I propose a schedule,” Sterling recovered quickly. “Knox takes the first week, Miles the second, and I’ll take the third. Silas―”

“Don’t worry about me,” I said, pulling out my chair. “I’m not part of the rotation.”

Knox blinked. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. I’ll clean my own area. You guys can rotate the common space. Fair, right?”

Sterling narrowed his eyes. He tapped his finger on the desk twice and smirked. “Fine. We’ll respect your choice, Silas.”

After the lights were out, I heard him whisper to Knox.

“See that? Guys like him can’t handle losing control. Once you take his power away, he doesn't know what to do with himself.”

Knox didn't reply, but I heard him chuckle in the dark.

Their phones buzzed at the same time. They were all looking at their screens and laughing.

I guessed they had a group chat now. One that didn't include me.

I looked at the key on the table and smiled to myself.

I only had one thought: Let them have this crappy job.