The Foxhole Court (All for the Game Book 1)
The Foxhole Court: Chapter 4

Neil spent the following morning exploring the campus and memorizing its layout. When he was sure he knew his way around, he left school grounds and went for a long run. Gradually he looped his way back around. He had an hour to stretch out and eat lunch before he met the others at the stadium, and he made sure to show up early enough to change in private.

When the others arrived, Neil was waiting for them on the court. He watched as Kevin propelled Andrew toward the home goal. Andrew was laughing about something, but Neil couldn’t hear what Kevin was saying to him. Aaron and Nicky scattered balls down the first-fourth line, and Nicky rolled a couple Neil’s way. Neil spaced them out at half-court around him.

They started with drills, some of which Neil practiced yesterday and a few more he didn’t know. The exercises gradually increased in difficulty and Neil grimaced a little as Andrew deflected every shot Neil aimed his way. It was only a little comforting that neither Aaron nor Nicky was scoring, either, but Kevin landed almost a third of his shots. It was a poor show from a former national champion, but it was also intensely humbling as Kevin had grown up playing left-handed. Seeing him take on Andrew righthanded was ballsy enough; seeing him actually score was surreal.

Kevin kicked them off the court for a water break after an hour and a half of drills, but instead of following the backliners and Neil to the locker room, he stayed behind with Andrew to keep practicing. Neil watched them over his shoulder.

‘I saw him first,’ Nicky said. ‘I thought you had Erik,’ Neil said.

‘I do, but Kevin’s on the List,’ Nicky said. When Neil frowned, Nicky explained. ‘It’s a list of celebrities we’re allowed to have affairs with. Kevin is my number three.’

Neil pretended to understand and changed the topic. ‘How does anyone lose against the Foxes with Andrew in your goal?’

‘He’s good, right? But Andrew sat out most of last year.’ Nicky shrugged. ‘Coach didn’t need a third goalie when he signed us, so Andrew was a bench warmer up until November. Then the ERC threatened to revoke our Class I status and fire Coach if we didn’t start winning more often. Coach bribed Andrew into saving our collective asses with some really nice booze.’

‘Bribed?’ Neil echoed.
‘Andrew’s good,’ Nicky said again, ‘but it doesn’t really matter to him if we win or lose. You want him to care, you gotta give him incentive.’
‘He can’t play like that and not care.’
‘Now you sound like Kevin. You’ll find out the hard way, same as Kevin did. Kevin gave Andrew a lot of grief this spring,’ Nicky said as they pushed their way into the locker room. Aaron went ahead of them to the water fountain and Nicky propped himself against the wall to watch Neil. ‘Andrew walked off the court for an entire month. He said he’d break his own fingers if Coach made him play with Kevin again.’
The thought of Andrew willingly destroying his talent made Neil’s heart clench. ‘But he’s playing now.’
Nicky took a couple quick sips from the fountain as soon as Aaron stepped out of the way and smeared a hand across his mouth. ‘Only because Kevin is. Kevin got back on the court with a racquet in his right hand, and Andrew wasn’t far behind him. Up until then they were fighting like cats and dogs. Now look at them. They’re practically trading friendship bracelets and I couldn’t fit a crowbar between them if it’d save my life.’
‘But why?’ Neil asked. ‘Andrew hates Kevin’s obsession with Exy.’
‘The day they start making sense to you, let me know,’ Nicky said, moving so Neil could get a drink. ‘I gave up trying to sort it all out weeks ago. You could ask, but neither of them will answer. But as long as I’m doling out advice? Stop staring at Kevin so much. You’re making me fear for your life over here.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Andrew is scary territorial of him. He punched me the first time I said I’d like to get Kevin too wasted to be straight.’ Nicky pointed at his face, presumably where Andrew had decked him. ‘So yeah, I’m going to crush on safer targets until Andrew gets bored of him. That means you, since Matt’s taken and I don’t hate myself enough to try Seth. Congrats.’
‘Can you take the creepy down a level?’ Aaron asked.
‘What?’ Nicky asked. ‘He said he doesn’t swing, so obviously he needs a push.’
‘I don’t need a push,’ Neil said. ‘I’m fine on my own.’
‘Seriously, how are you not bored of your hand by now?’
‘I’m done with this conversation,’ Neil said. ‘This and every future variation of it. Look, Nicky, I have no problems with your sexuality, but I’m here to play. All I want from any of you is the best you can give me on the court.’
The stadium door slammed open as Andrew showed up at last. He swept them with a wide-eyed look as if surprised to see them all there. ‘Kevin wants to know what’s taking you so long. Did you get lost?’
‘Nicky’s scheming to rape Neil,’ Aaron said. ‘There are a couple flaws in his plan he needs to work out first, but he’ll get there sooner or later.’
‘You’re such an asshole,’ Nicky said as he started for the door.
‘Wow, Nicky,’ Andrew said. ‘You start early.’
‘Can you really blame me?’
Nicky glanced back at Neil as he said it. He only took his eyes off Andrew for a second, but that was long enough for Andrew to lunge at him. Andrew caught Nicky’s jersey in one hand and threw him hard up against the wall. Nicky grunted at the impact but made no move to shove Andrew off when Andrew leaned up against him. Neil looked from Nicky to Aaron, but Aaron appeared unmoved and unsurprised by the sudden violence. Neil looked back at Andrew and waited to see how this played out.
‘Hey, Nicky,’ Andrew said in stage-whisper German. ‘Don’t touch him, you understand?’
‘You know I’d never hurt him. If he says yes—’
‘I said no.’
‘Jesus, you’re greedy,’ Nicky said. ‘You already have Kevin. Why does it—’
He went silent, but it took Neil a moment to realize why. Andrew had a short knife pressed to Nicky’s jersey. Where he’d pulled it from, Neil didn’t know, but he refused to think Andrew wore one onto the court under his uniform. There had to be rules and regulations against that. The last thing Neil wanted was for Andrew to stab someone in the middle of a game. The Foxes would be banned from the league in an instant.
‘Shh, Nicky, shh,’ Andrew said, like he was soothing a troubled child. ‘Why the long face? It’s going to be okay.’
Neil was no stranger to violence. He’d heard every threat in the book, but never from a man who smiled as bright as Andrew did. Apathy, anger, madness, boredom; these motivators Neil knew and understood. But Andrew was grinning like he didn’t have a knife point where it’d slip perfectly between Nicky’s ribs, and it wasn’t because he was joking. Neil knew Andrew meant it. If Nicky so much as breathed wrong right now, Andrew would cut his lungs to ribbons, any and all consequences be damned.
Neil wondered if Andrew’s medicine would let him grieve, or if he’d laugh at Nicky’s funeral too. Then he wondered if a sober Andrew would act any different. Was this Andrew’s psychosis or his medicine? Was he flying too high to understand what he was doing, or did his medicine only add a smile to Andrew’s ingrained violence?
Neil looked to Aaron, waiting for him to interfere. Aaron was tense but quiet as he stared at Andrew’s knife. Neil gave him another second, but he couldn’t wait forever. He didn’t know what would finally set Andrew off and he didn’t want to find out.
‘Hey,’ Neil said, looking back at Andrew. ‘That’s enough.’
‘Quiet,’ Nicky said in English, barely louder than a breath of air. ‘Quiet. It’s fine.’
‘Hey,’ Neil said again, ignoring him, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Questioning Andrew’s sanity or calling his bluff would end with Nicky in the hospital. He wouldn’t pretend to accept Nicky’s advances just to calm Andrew down. What Neil needed was a distraction, something more important to Andrew than Nicky. That left only one thing that Neil knew of. One person, rather.
‘Are we playing or what?’ he said. ‘Kevin’s waiting.’
Andrew looked at Neil as if that hadn’t occurred to him. ‘Oh, you’re right. Let’s go or we’ll never hear the end of it.’
Andrew let go of Nicky and spun away. His knife vanished under his armor before he reached the door. Aaron squeezed Nicky’s shoulder on his way out. Nicky looked shaken as he stared after the twins, but when he realized Neil was watching him he rallied with a smile Neil didn’t believe at all.
‘On second thought, you’re not my type after all,’ Nicky said when the door closed behind his cousins. ‘You need some more water before we hit the court for round two?’
‘That’s not okay,’ Neil said, pointing at the door.
‘That’s nothing,’ Nicky said.
Neil caught his arm as Nicky passed and hauled him to a stop. ‘Don’t let him get away with things like that.’
Nicky considered him for a moment, his smile fading into something small and tired. ‘Oh, Neil. You’re going to make this so hard on yourself. Look,’ he said, tugging free and turning Neil toward the door. ‘Andrew is a little bit crazy. Your lines are not his lines, so you can get all huff and puff when he tramps across yours but you’ll never make him understand what he did wrong. Moreover, you’ll never make him care. So just stay out of his way.’
‘He’s like this because you let him get away with it,’ Neil said. ‘You’re putting all of us at risk.’
‘That was my fault.’ Nicky opened the door and waited for Neil to precede him out. ‘I said something I shouldn’t have, and I got what I deserved.’
Neil wasn’t convinced, but he couldn’t demand better explanations for an argument that had happened in German, so he led the way to the inner court. Neil looked first to Andrew, who was jogging to the half-court line, and then to Kevin, who was standing on the fox paw logo at the court’s center. Aaron was at the door waiting for Nicky and Neil, and the three entered the court together.
Kevin barely waited for them to stop at his side before dividing them up with a flick of his fingers. ‘Aaron is with me. Nicky and Andrew get the child. Two-man team scrimmage with an empty away goal.’
‘I’m not a child,’ Neil said. ‘You’re only a year older than I am.’ Two, really, but he wasn’t about to tell them he’d lied about both his birthday and his age.
Kevin ignored that, but Nicky spoke up, ‘Shouldn’t Andrew be with you and Aaron? Then Neil can practice shooting on him.’
Kevin looked bored by the suggestion. ‘If I thought he could make it to the goal, I would have set it up that way.’
‘Them’s fighting words,’ Nicky said, grinning at Neil. ‘Bring it, kid.’
There were only five of them, but they set up as if they had two full teams: Neil and Kevin spaced out on the half-court line, Nicky at first-fourth, and Aaron at far-fourth. Andrew acted as dealer from his place in home goal and slammed the ball all the way to the other end of the court. The second Neil heard the crack of Andrew’s racquet, he started moving, pushing up before Aaron could close him out.
Kevin should have done the same and pushed up the court toward Nicky, but he stayed on the half-court line. Likewise, Aaron let the rebound go past him. Neil didn’t stop to think about it but scooped the ball out of the air. He only had it for two seconds before Kevin appeared out of nowhere. Kevin smashed their racquets together so hard the ball popped one way and Neil’s racquet flew the other. Neil swore at the sharp pain that stabbed up his arms.
‘Keep count,’ Kevin said before going after the ball.
Neil scrambled for his stick and hurried after him, but Kevin’s headstart was too much. Nicky tried to fend Kevin off, but Kevin faked him out and scored a few seconds later. Andrew, who should have been guarding their goal, was using his oversized racquet as a prop. He looked over his shoulder as the goal lines lit up red but didn’t react otherwise.
‘You could at least try,’ Kevin said.
Andrew thought about it, then said, ‘I could, couldn’t I? Maybe next time!’
Nicky caught the ball and tossed it to Andrew, who caught it with his goalie glove. The four set up to go again, and Andrew started them off with another vicious serve. This time Kevin jogged to meet Nicky, leaving Neil to get past Aaron. Neil ran for the ball and Aaron fell in alongside him on his way by. As soon as Neil was close enough to catching the ball that body-checking was a legal move, Aaron slammed into him full-force. Neil stumbled, off-balance, and ground his racquet into the floor to stop himself from tripping over his own feet. Aaron caught the ball and threw it right over his head to Kevin. Andrew watched as Kevin scored again.
‘What’s Andrew doing?’ Neil asked.
‘Nothing,’ Aaron said, as simple as it was obvious, and they set up for another serve.
At the twenty-minute mark, Kevin checked Neil into the wall and pinned him there with a gloved hand to his chest long enough to demand, ‘Are you even trying?’
Neil shoved him, but Kevin was already leaving, off to grab the ball and score again.
The court seemed so much larger when he only had one teammate to rely on, and the rules that only let them carry a ball for ten steps made them rely heavily on the court’s walls. Neil wasn’t used to playing like this. He didn’t like it and his unfamiliarity with this style only made it easier for Aaron and Kevin to completely dominate the court.
Each set forced Neil to try harder and go faster, but this wasn’t Millport. His childhood experience and his speed weren’t enough when facing athletes of this caliber. Neil was frustrated, then amazed, then frustrated all over again as the scrimmage wore on. He scored a couple times during the scrimmage, but his goals felt worthless when he didn’t have a goalkeeper to contend with.
After forty minutes, Kevin called them to an abrupt halt and swept his racquet at the backliners. ‘Get out. Both of you get out right now.’
‘Thank God,’ Nicky said, and ran for the door.
Kevin waited until Aaron pulled the door closed behind them, then grabbed the grated front of Neil’s helmet and dragged him toward Andrew’s goal. Andrew finally took an interest in the proceedings and stood up straight. Kevin let go when Neil reached the fox paw marking the foul line.
‘Ball,’ he said, and Andrew tossed it over. Kevin pushed it against Neil’s chest until Neil took it. ‘You stay here and fire on Andrew until he’s tired. Maybe you’ll score once.’
‘Uh oh,’ Andrew said with a laugh. ‘This won’t end well.’
Kevin turned around and left, slamming the door behind him on his way out. Neil collected the bucket of balls from the north home corner where they’d stored it during their scrimmage. He set the bucket on first-fourth and went back to the foul line for his first shot.
Andrew, who hadn’t lifted so much as a finger to stop Kevin from scoring on him, didn’t have the same consideration for Neil. He swept his massive racquet around in one long swing and hit the ball so hard Neil heard it bounce off the away court wall behind him. Neil looked over his shoulder, then took another ball from the bucket and tried again.
Neil lost track of time after that. Swings and minutes blurred in an exhausting mix. He kept going long after his arms started burning because he didn’t know how to stop. Eventually the pain faded in favor of a heavy sense of numbness. He knew Andrew should be tired by now since Andrew had such a heavy racquet and was hitting every ball like he wanted to score a home run, but Andrew didn’t even slow down.
He knew he’d gone too far when he took a swing and lost his grip on his racquet. Andrew laughed as it clattered against the ground and skidded toward the goal. Andrew knocked the ball straight back at Neil, and Neil didn’t have a racquet to defend himself with. He brought up his arms to block his face instinctively, but he felt that sharp smack on his forearms even through his arm guards. He stumbled back a step under the impact and shot Andrew a dirty look.
‘Let’s go,’ Andrew said. ‘Tick tock. I won’t wait forever for you.’
Neil knew it was a bad idea, but he went for his racquet anyway. Picking it up hurt, and when he tried to lift it high enough for a swing, his right arm gave a sharp spasm and he lost his grip. His stick hit the court at his feet.
‘Oh no,’ Andrew said. ‘I think Neil’s in trouble.’
Neil crouched and reached for his racquet. It felt like his muscles were unraveling inside of him, twisting into tight balls around his elbow and wrist, but Neil wrapped his fingers around the stick and picked it up. Andrew stood his racquet up in front of him and propped his arms on top of it, waiting and watching as Neil stupidly tried another shot on goal. Neil only got his racquet shoulder height before he dropped it again. The ball rolled harmlessly away.
‘Can you or can’t you?’ Andrew asked.
Defeat tasted sour as Neil crouched by his racquet. ‘I’m done.’
Andrew left the goal to meet him but stopped with one foot on Neil’s racquet. Neil tried to pull it out from under him, but he didn’t have the strength. He was even less successful in his attempt to push Andrew off, and that hurt so much his vision crackled black.
‘Get off my racquet.’
‘Make me?’ Andrew said, spreading his arms in invitation. ‘Try, anyway.’
‘Don’t tempt me.’
‘Such fierce words from such a little creature,’ Andrew said. ‘You’re not very bright. Typical of a jock.’
‘Hypocrite,’ Neil said.
Andrew gave him a thumbs-up and pushed past Neil. Neil tried to catch himself before he tipped over, but his hand wouldn’t hold his weight. He fell flat on his back and didn’t even try to get up. He was too tired to care anymore, so he laid there and listened as Andrew left the court. The door banged closed behind him. Neil rolled his head to one side and watched through the walls as they left.
When he was sure they were gone he painstakingly cleaned up the court. His arms were throbbing as he peeled his uniform off, and getting dressed again was almost too much to handle.
‘Damn,’ he whispered. He’d gone too far today in his determination to keep up with his teammates. If he couldn’t control himself and take it one step at a time, there was no way he’d be able to play by the time August rolled around.
He ran back to Wymack’s place, keeping his pace slower than usual, and took the stairs up to the seventh floor. The apartment door was unlocked, and Wymack was waiting for him in the hall with a can of coffee grinds in his hand.
‘Kevin called ahead to say you wouldn’t be on the court tomorrow and that I should entertain you with clips of past games. He said you tried to blow your arms out against Andrew. I said you weren’t that stupid. Which one of us is right?’
‘I might have gotten carried away,’ Neil said.
Wymack tossed the coffee to him. Neil caught it instinctively, but he couldn’t hold onto it. It bounced off the floor at his feet and the lid popped off to spill grinds everywhere. Wymack stalked toward Neil with a snarled, ‘You idiot.’
Retreating from a furious older man was so instinctive Neil didn’t realize he’d flinched until Wymack froze. Wymack’s face went almost dangerously blank and Neil dropped his gaze. He was careful not to look away from Wymack entirely. He needed to see when Wymack started moving again. He waited for Wymack to say something. After an endless, brittle silence, he realized Wymack wouldn’t speak until he did.
‘Today was my mistake,’ Neil said quietly. ‘It won’t happen a second time.’
Wymack didn’t answer. He didn’t come closer, either. At length he pointed at the ground in front of him. ‘Come here. No,’ he said when Neil started to reach for the mess at his feet. ‘Leave it.’
Neil stepped over it and went to stand in front of Wymack: within arm’s reach but just barely. He’d perfected that trick as a kid. He could look at anyone’s arms and judge the safe distance from them in a heartbeat. If they had to move to hit him, he had enough time to dodge. Either way he wouldn’t catch the full intended force of their blow.
‘Look at me,’ Wymack said. ‘Right now.’
Neil dragged his stare up from Wymack’s chest to his face. Wymack’s expression was still too blank for Neil to feel safe, but he knew better than to look away again.
‘I want you to understand something,’ Wymack said. ‘I am a loud, grouchy old man. I like to yell and throw things. But I don’t throw punches unless some punk is dumb enough to try me first. I have never, ever hit someone without provocation, and I’m sure as hell not going to start with you. You hear me?’
Neil didn’t believe him, but he said, ‘Yes, Coach.’
‘I’m serious,’ Wymack said. ‘Don’t you dare be more afraid of me than you are of Andrew.’
Neil could have told him it was Wymack’s age that made him such a problem, but he didn’t think Wymack wanted to hear it. There was no solution to that problem. ‘Yes, Coach.’
Wymack gestured over his shoulder and stepped aside. ‘I already ate, but I haven’t put the leftovers away yet. I’ll take care of this. You take care of you.’
Neil ate to the sound of the vacuum. Wymack was in his office by the time Neil was done, and Neil retired to the couch early. He wanted to get his bag and go through his folder, but he didn’t want to intrude on Wymack’s space, so he stared at the ceiling until he finally fell asleep.
It took Neil two weeks to decide he’d never meet Kevin’s standards. It got to the point where he saw Kevin’s look of cool disapproval every time he blinked. Half of the time Neil didn’t know what he was doing wrong and the other half he couldn’t change. He clocked a faster mile than any of them, but they were better and stronger than he was. Kevin knew Neil was inexperienced, but he didn’t forgive Neil for his mistakes. Neil didn’t want pity, but he did want understanding. When he caved and asked Nicky for advice on how to deal with Kevin, Nicky only smiled and said, ‘I warned you.’
It did nothing for Neil’s fraying patience. Luckily being angry at himself and loathing Kevin’s condescending version of coaching meant he didn’t have time or energy to be afraid. Two weeks of playing with the dysfunctional group and Kevin still gave no signs of recognizing him. All Kevin cared about was how short Neil fell on his court—and as far as Neil could tell, it was shorter and shorter by the day. Two weeks of Kevin’s scornful dismissal and rude commentary wore away at Neil’s resolve to take it easy. He didn’t care if he blew out his arms again if it meant Kevin would stop riding him like he was an incompetent preschooler.
Everything was for Exy, from his early morning run to the hours he clocked at the gym to the afternoon scrimmages to the longer run he took in the evenings after dinner. He made loops around the campus and went up and down the stairs in the stadium. No matter what he did he was too slow, and he went to sleep in so much pain every night he could barely change for bed. By the time his third week started, he couldn’t even sleep because he was too busy analyzing the day’s mistakes.
One night he cast aside his blankets in disgust and left the apartment. It was pitch black out, probably somewhere around two in the morning, and it was just cool enough he should’ve changed out of his pajama pants. He warmed up quickly as he set off for Palmetto State. There were few street lights around Wymack’s neighborhood, but when Neil reached Perimeter Road, the winding street that surrounded Palmetto State, the path was better lit.
Neil knew the way to the stadium by heart even in the dark. There were a couple cars in the parking lot, as usual, and Neil thought he saw the moving figure of a security guard in the next lot. He punched in the code for the Foxes’ entrance and opened the door, then stilled with his hand halfway to the light switch. The lights were already on.
Belatedly he realized he’d passed the cousins’ car. He was so used to seeing it here when they met for scrimmages he hadn’t thought it out of place. He frowned over his shoulder at it, wondering if Wymack had heard him leave and called the others to check on him, then pulled the door closed and jogged for the locker room.
He checked every room but found no sign anyone was there. He stretched out in the foyer before pushing through the back door. He heard the sound of a ball ricocheting off the wall, but with the stadium seating rising up to either side of the Foxes’ entry hall, he couldn’t see where on the court the others were. He was almost to the inner court before he finally spotted Kevin. Kevin was alone at firstfourth with a bucket of balls, and he was systematically heaving them at the wall. Neil watched in silence, wondering what odd sort of drill he was doing. It took Kevin a dozen shots before Neil realized he was trying to rebound them all from the same spot. Kevin was honing his right-handed aim.
Watching Kevin going at it in the middle of the night, fierce and merciless, was almost enough that Neil forgave him. Kevin was more demanding of himself than he was of anyone around him. He set his standards impossibly high and tried for them with everything he had, and he didn’t understand why others wouldn’t do the same.
Neil was watching Kevin, but it didn’t take him long to realize someone else was watching him. He didn’t have to look to know who it was; the intensity of the other man’s stare set his nerves on edge with its weight. He didn’t turn to see where Andrew was but raised his voice enough that Andrew would hear.
‘Won’t you play with him?’
‘No,’ Andrew said, somewhere to Neil’s left.
Neil waited, but Andrew didn’t elaborate. ‘I think he’d benefit more if you did.’
‘And?’
Neil slowly turned, dragging his gaze along the empty home bench to the seats behind it. Andrew was sitting in the first stairwell about ten steps up. He was leaning forward, arms folded across his knees, as he stared Neil down. The blank expression on his face was startling. It’d been weeks since Neil last saw him sober and he’d gotten used to Andrew’s drugged mania. Neil almost accused him of violating his parole again before he remembered what time it was. Andrew had likely come off his drugs to sleep.
More interesting than Andrew’s calm demeanor was the baggy tshirt and sweatpants Andrew was wearing. Andrew wore long sleeves to pick Neil up from the airport, and Neil had only seen him in court gear since then. Now, without bulky armor and gloves in the way, Neil could finally see Andrew’s trademark accessories: black bands that covered his arms from his wrists to his elbows. From what Neil heard, they were a sarcastic joke meant to help people distinguish the twins from one another. Why he had them on in the middle of the night, Neil didn’t know.
He didn’t have to ask. Andrew knew what he was looking at. He tucked two fingers into the band on his opposite arm and slid free a long, slim blade. Metal glinted in the overhead lights as Andrew pushed it back under the dark cloth a few seconds later.
‘Is that your slow attempt at suicide or do you actually have sheathes built into those?’ Neil asked.
‘Yes.’
‘That’s not the one you tried to cut Nicky with. How many knives do you carry?’
‘Enough,’ Andrew said.
‘What happens when a referee catches you with a weapon on the court?’ Neil asked. ‘I think that’s a little more serious than a red card. You’d probably get arrested, and they might even suspend our entire team until they think they can trust us again. Then what?’
‘I’d grieve forever,’ Andrew dead-panned.
‘Why do you hate this game so much?’
Andrew sighed as if Neil was being purposefully obtuse. ‘I don’t care enough about Exy to hate it. It’s just slightly less boring than living is, so I put up with it for now.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘That’s not my problem.’
‘Isn’t it fun?’ Neil asked.
‘Someone else asked me that same thing two years ago. Should I tell you what I told him? I said no. Something as pointless as this game is can never be fun.’
‘Pointless,’ Neil echoed. ‘But you have real talent.’
‘Flattery is uninteresting and gets you nowhere.’
‘I’m just stating facts. You’re selling yourself short. You could be something if only you’d try.’
Andrew’s smile was small and cold. ‘You be something. Kevin says you’ll be a champion. Four years and you’ll go pro. Five years and you’ll be Court. He promised Coach. He promised the school board. He argued until they signed off on you.’
‘He—what?’ Neil stared at him, blood rushing in his ears as he tried to make sense of Andrew’s words. Andrew had to be lying to him; Kevin couldn’t have said such things about him. Kevin could barely stand to be on the same court with him as far as Neil could tell. What good did it do Andrew to say such obvious lies? Was he trying to rile Neil up?
‘Then Kevin finally got the okay to sign you and you hit the ground running,’ Andrew said. ‘Curious that a man with so much potential, who has so much fun, who could ‘be something’ wouldn’t want any of it. Why is that?’
If Andrew was telling the truth, then Kevin had definitely lied to all of them, and Neil could only guess at one reason why he’d go to such great lengths. Maybe Kevin remembered him after all and was saying whatever he had to in order to recruit Neil. But if that was so, how much did Kevin know? How much did he understand or remember about what happened eight years ago? Did he know Neil’s name? Did he know what that name meant?
‘You’re lying,’ Neil said at last, because he needed that to be the truth. ‘Kevin hates me.’
‘Or you hate him,’ Andrew said. ‘I can’t decide. Your loose ends aren’t adding up.’
‘I’m not a math problem.’
‘But I’ll still solve you.’
Neil turned away without another word. Kevin was gathering his balls, finished with practice. When Kevin started for the door, Andrew moved behind Neil. Neil heard cloth rustle as Andrew stood, and Andrew’s shoes tapped quietly on the stairs as he came down to inner court.
‘You are a conundrum,’ Andrew said.
‘Thank you.’
‘No, thank you,’ Andrew said as he slipped past Neil without a look back. ‘I need a new toy to play with.’
‘I’m not a toy.’
‘I guess we’ll see.’
Kevin had his helmet off as soon as the court door closed behind him. He looked right past Andrew to Neil. Neil stared back at him, looking for the truth on Kevin’s face, looking for some reason behind Andrew’s big words. Kevin couldn’t have heard their conversation all the way out on the court, but Neil still expected him to call Neil by his real name.
Instead Kevin said, ‘Why are you here?’
‘I wanted to practice.’
‘As if it will help you any.’
It was rude, but it was exactly what Neil needed to hear. Andrew had lied to him. Neil could breathe a little easier as he watched Kevin set the bucket of balls on the ground at his feet. Kevin set his racquet and helmet on the home bench to undo his gloves and arm guards. Andrew took them as Kevin peeled them off, tucking the gloves under his arm and looping his fingers through the straps of the guards. He snagged Kevin’s helmet by the safety grating across the front and watched Kevin collect his racquet again.
‘Andrew?’ Kevin asked.
‘Ready already,’ Andrew said, and started for the locker room.
Neil didn’t watch them leave. He sat on home bench and stared at the court, listening to the door close behind them. He reached over and picked a ball out of the bucket, turning it over and over in his fingers.
‘Court,’ Neil whispered, then gave himself a violent shake.
He squeezed the ball until his fingers ached, mentally retracing his steps backward. He went to Arizona, then across Nevada to California. He remembered the black sands beach along California’s lost coast where his mother finally gave up the fight. He hadn’t even realized she’d been injured so badly after running into his father in Seattle. She’d bled most of the way through Oregon, but he hadn’t thought it was serious. He hadn’t known she was bleeding out on the inside, a kidney and her liver ruptured, her intestines bruised beyond repair.
He didn’t know when she figured it out, if she’d known by Portland that something was seriously wrong but was too scared to stop or if she hadn’t seen her death coming until they crossed the California border and she started losing consciousness. She should have gone to a hospital, but she’d turned them down the treacherous path to the lost coast instead. They stopped six feet from the tide and she made him repeat every promise she’d ever dragged out of him: don’t look back, don’t slow down, and don’t trust anyone. Be anyone but himself, and never be anyone for too long.
By the time Neil understood she was saying goodbye, it was too late.
She died gasping for one more breath, panting with something that might have been words or his name or fear. Neil could still feel her fingernails digging into his arms as she fought not to slip away, and the memory left him shaking all over. Her abdomen felt like stone when he touched her, swollen and hard. He tried pulling her from her seat only once, but the sound of her dried blood ripping off the vinyl like Velcro killed him.
He burned the car instead, dumping every emergency case of gasoline they’d bought along the way onto the seats so it’d scorch her down to the bone. He hadn’t cried when the flames caught, and he hadn’t flinched when he pulled her cooling bones out. He filled her backpack with everything that was left of her, carried her two miles down the beach, and buried her as deep as he could. By the time he found the highway again he was numb with shock, and he lasted another day before he fell to his knees on the roadside and puked his guts out. Somehow he’d made it to San Francisco, but he only stayed a day before setting off for Millport. He took it one step and one mile and one day at a time because anything else was too much for him to handle in his grief.
Neil stared at the court in front of him and swallowed once, twice, against the nausea that was crawling up his throat. This was why Wymack’s contract, Kevin’s lofty ambitions, and Andrew’s words meant nothing in the end. It didn’t matter what they offered or promised him. Neil wasn’t like them. He was nothing and no one, and he always would be. Court wasn’t for people like him. He’d take what he could learn and enjoy it while he could, but this was a dream he’d have to wake up from eventually. Wanting anything more than that would just make it harder to walk away.
He dropped the ball back into the bucket and went up to the locker room. After making sure Kevin and Andrew really were gone, he changed into his uniform and headed to the court for drills. He wore himself out, putting every thought he had into the moves he was making so he couldn’t think about the Foxes or Court or his past. When he was finally done and had cleaned everything up, it was after dawn. He was too tired to go back to Wymack’s and knew he’d just get back when Wymack was watching the morning news, so he showered and dressed and fell asleep on one of the Foxes’ couches.
He woke up again around noon and headed back to the apartment. His keys got him into the building, but Wymack’s door was unlocked again. Neil considered bringing up Wymack’s lax security with the coach and then forgot all about it. Even with the door just a couple inches open he could hear furious voices arguing. He put an ear to the crack and held his breath, straining to make out the words.
‘Damn it, Kevin, I said sit down!’
‘I won’t!’ Kevin shot back. If Wymack hadn’t said his name already, Neil wouldn’t have recognized his voice. Kevin’s voice was twisted with fear and panic. ‘How could you let him do this?’
‘I don’t have any say in this and you know it. Hey!’
There was a hard thud as bodies hit the wall, and Neil took advantage of the struggle to slip inside. He closed the door as quietly as he could, but his stealth was a wasted effort. It sounded like Wymack and Kevin were knocking over everything Wymack owned, and Neil winced at the sharp sound of shattering glass.
‘Look at me,’ Wymack demanded. ‘Look at me, god damn you, and breathe.’
‘I warned Andrew he was going to come for me. I told him!’
‘It doesn’t matter. You signed a contract with me.’
‘He could pay off my scholarship in a heartbeat. You know he would. He’d pay you off and take me home and I—I can’t go back there. I can’t, I can’t, I won’t, I—I have to go. I have to go. I should go now, before he has to come for me. Maybe he’ll forgive me if I go back. If I make him hunt me down any more than I have already he’ll kill me for sure.’
‘Shut up,’ Wymack said. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’
‘I can’t tell Riko no!’
‘Then don’t say a word,’ Wymack said. ‘Keep your mouth shut and let me and Andrew do the talking. Yes, Andrew. Don’t tell me you forgot about that psycho. I’ve got Betsy’s number on speed dial. Want me to put you through to her office so you can talk to him? Want to tell him you’re thinking about going back?’
Silence followed that. Neil waited, holding his breath, until Wymack spoke again. He was quieter this time, but concern made his voice more gruff than comforting.
‘I’m not letting you go back there,’ Wymack said. ‘Nothing says I have to. Your contract says you belong to me. He can send us all the money he wants, but you have to sign off on it before it means anything, and you’re not going to. Okay? You let me and Andrew worry about Riko fuck-face. You worry about getting your game and team where they need to be. You promised me you could get us past the fourth match this year.’
‘That was before,’ Kevin said, miserable. ‘This is now.’
‘The ERC is giving us until June before they break the news. They saw how many security issues we had over your transfer, so they’re waiting until everyone’s here where I can keep an eye on them. I told you because you need to know, but I need you to keep it from Andrew until then. Tell me you can see Andrew today and not completely freak out.’
‘Andrew will figure it out. He’s not stupid.’
‘Then you have to be the better liar,’ Wymack said in a hard voice. ‘The ERC is looking for a reason to take him away from us, and you know they won’t give him back. Then where will you be?’
They were quiet for so long Neil thought they might be done. Finally Kevin said, ‘Give me your phone.’
‘If you think I’m going to let you use my phone to call him, you—’
‘Jean,’ Kevin cut in. ‘I have to call Jean. I have to hear him say it.’
Apparently that was an acceptable compromise, because Wymack stopped arguing. Neil looked over his shoulder, wondering if he should make a break for it. He didn’t know what was going on, but it had to be awful if it’d brought Kevin this far off his condescending perch. He was debating how quietly he could slip out the door when Kevin spoke. Kevin’s bleak tone brought Neil up short, as did the French Kevin was speaking.
‘Tell me it isn’t true,’ Kevin said. ‘Tell me he didn’t.’
Neil couldn’t hear the answer, but the sharp slap of the phone snapping shut again said it wasn’t the one Kevin wanted. The couch creaked under someone’s body weight and Neil imagined Kevin sinking onto the cushion in despair.
‘Wait here,’ Wymack said, and a few seconds later he stepped into the hallway. He started a little when he spotted Neil at the end of the hallway but said nothing. Neil watched as he disappeared into the kitchen. He recognized the sound of Wymack’s liquor cabinet by now, the click of the lock and the soft clink of the glass doors. Wymack returned with a handle of vodka and dropped it off with Kevin.
‘Drink,’ he said from out of sight. ‘I’ll be right back.’
Wymack came back to the hallway. Neil pointed over his shoulder at the door in a question. Wymack followed Neil out of his apartment and closed the door behind him. Neil looked down the hall for stray eavesdroppers, but the other doors were closed.
‘I wasn’t going to tell anyone else until June,’ Wymack said. ‘How much did you hear?’
‘Kevin’s having a nervous breakdown,’ Neil said. ‘I don’t know why.’
‘Edgar Allen put in a transfer request with the ERC and it was approved this morning. They’re part of the southeastern district effective June 1st.’
It took a minute for Wymack’s words to make sense. When it clicked, Neil’s stomach bottomed out. It’d been hard enough facing Kevin in Arizona. How could Neil risk meeting Riko too? Just because Kevin didn’t remember Neil didn’t mean Riko wouldn’t either. Neil didn’t want to find out the hard way if Riko had the better memory of the two.
‘That’s impossible,’ Neil said.
‘Not really. They’re the only NCAA Exy team in West Virginia, so it was as easy as a vote and a couple signatures.’
‘That’s impossible,’ Neil said again. ‘We can’t play the Ravens. What sane board pits the best and worst teams against each other?’
‘One that knows there’s a lot to gain from it,’ Wymack said. ‘Kevin’s transfer created a lot of backlash, but it also generated a lot of new interest in Exy. The ERC wants to follow it through to the natural conclusion: Kevin and Riko’s reunion on the court, but this time as rivals for the first time ever. It doesn’t matter who wins. They know what publicity and funding they can score with such a move.’
‘I can’t play against Riko,’ Neil said. ‘I’m not ready.’
‘Riko isn’t your problem,’ Wymack said. ‘Leave him to Matt. Your problem is getting around his backliners and goalkeeper.’
‘Can’t you protest?’ Neil said. ‘They’re setting us up for a match everyone knows we can’t win.’
‘I could, but it won’t do any good,’ Wymack said. ‘The ERC doesn’t do take-backs, especially when it means spurning a Moriyama. There’s something you need to know about the Moriyamas, but I didn’t want to have this conversation with you yet. I wanted you settled a bit more, or at least hoped you’d get to know the team better before I dropped this on you. Now that the ERC is forcing my hand, I don’t have a lot of choices.
‘What I’m going to tell you is an open secret. That is, we know it,’ he waved a finger in a circle, likely meaning the Foxes, ‘but no one outside our team does. It has to stay that way no matter what, do you understand? People could get hurt if this gets out. People could die.’
Neil waved over his shoulder at the apartment doors. ‘What about them?’
‘I’m the only one on this floor,’ Wymack said. ‘They built this complex around the same time we started construction on the Foxhole Court. Thought our team would be something and people would want to live in the area to be close to the stadium for games. Then we couldn’t perform, so the apartments didn’t fill. The lower floors are pretty full, and the middle floors get rented out during football season, but top two floors are pretty bare. And no, you can’t break into any of them, so don’t even think it.’
Neil let that accusation go without comment. ‘You’re stalling, Coach.’
Wymack folded his arms across his chest and stared at Neil. ‘Do you know why Kevin came to Palmetto State?’
‘He broke his hand,’ Neil said. ‘He couldn’t play, so he transferred here as an assistant coach. I assumed he was following Andrew.’
‘I brought him here,’ Wymack said. ‘He showed up at my hotel room at winter banquet with his hand a bloody mess. He didn’t want us to notify the Ravens or take him to a hospital, so Abby bandaged him up as best she could and I put him on the bus back to South Carolina with us.’
‘That doesn’t make sense,’ Neil said. ‘How’d he get from the ski resort to your hotel?’
‘He wasn’t in the mountains,’ Wymack said.
‘But he broke his hand in a skiing accident,’ Neil said.
‘Bullshit,’ Wymack said. ‘It wasn’t an accident.’
Neil stared blankly at him, and Wymack gave a short nod before explaining.
‘The ERC had an end-of-year meeting a few days before the southeastern district’s winter banquet. The NCAA advisors got everyone talking about Riko and Kevin. They had some concerns about the season, they said. They were sure Riko was holding Kevin back, that Kevin was selling himself short so as not to outshine Riko on the court. They wanted to know if it was Coach Moriyama’s doing. In response Moriyama pitted Riko and Kevin against each other.
‘Riko won,’ Wymack said, ‘but I’m thinking he didn’t get it fair and square. If he had, maybe things would have turned out differently. As soon as Coach Moriyama dismissed them for the night Riko broke Kevin’s hand.’
It was like getting punched in the gut. ‘What?’
Wymack dragged his thumb along the back of his hand, tracing the path of Kevin’s injury. ‘Kevin doesn’t talk about his time at Evermore, but I could tell it wasn’t the first time Riko or Moriyama laid a hand on him. It was just the first time Kevin was smart enough to pack his bags and walk away. So much for family, hm?’
‘I don’t believe in family.’
‘Neither do I.’
He meant it. Neil finally understood that look Wymack sent him in Millport, that perfect understanding that undid Neil’s defenses. Neil searched his face, looking for the story behind that exhaustion. Whatever broke Wymack happened so long ago he wasn’t even bitter over it anymore, but he was definitely still cracked if he poured so much time into the Foxhole Court.
‘Why doesn’t anyone else know what Riko did?’ Neil asked.
‘Because Riko is a Moriyama,’ Wymack said tiredly. ‘This is where it starts getting messy.’
He thought for a minute, then held up his index fingers. ‘The Moriyama family is broken in half: the main family and the branch family. The main consists of the first-born sons and the branch is for everyone else. Coach Moriyama— Tetsuji—heads the branch family and his older brother Kengo heads the main. Kengo has two sons, Ichirou and Riko. Because Ichirou was born first, he stayed with Kengo in the main family. Riko was born second, so Tetsuji became his legal guardian and Riko became part of the branch family. Follow?’
‘I think so.’
‘The families are estranged,’ Wymack said. ‘Kengo and the main family are up in New York City, where Kengo is CEO of an international trading company. One day he’ll pass the business to Ichirou. Tetsuji and Riko get a kickback of the profits, but they’re considered unimportant and have no say in any business decisions. That’s how Tetsuji had the freedom to study in Japan and develop Exy. So long as he doesn’t do anything to damage the family’s reputation, he is free to do what he likes, and what he likes is to create the most awful and powerful team in the nation. This all is public knowledge.’
Neil looked past Wymack at the door, thinking of Kevin’s freak-out. ‘And the truth?’
‘The real Moriyama family business is murder.’
Neil shot a quick look at him. Wymack held up a hand to ward off any questions, his expression grim. ‘The Moriyamas are an immigrated yakuza group. Do you know what the yakuza are? They’re Japanese mafia. Kengo’s father brought the group to America a couple decades ago and set up shop up north. I don’t know what all they’re involved in and I don’t want to know. I don’t know how much even Kevin knows, since he’s attached to Riko and the branch family, but Kevin knows the main family uses Raven games as a cover for big meetings. So many people go in and out of Edgar Allen that it’s a convenient way to bring in their far-flung contacts. They’ve got VIP lounges along the upper floors where they make deals.’
‘They’re a gang,’ Neil said slowly.
Wymack nodded, watching him carefully and waiting to see how Neil took it. Neil barely noticed the attention. He was thinking back to the last time he’d seen Kevin and Riko together. He remembered scrimmaging and arguing footwork with them. Their game came to an abrupt halt when they were called upstairs. If Neil closed his eyes now he could remember every detail of the room they went to, from its floor-to-ceiling tinted windows to the heavy conference table dominating it. The floor was carpeted, but someone had laid a tarp down on top of it to catch all the blood.
Neil finally knew where he’d been and why. He’d never understood how they went from Exy practices to murder or why Kevin and Riko were there too. But if the Moriyamas were a gang, it made sense. Neil’s father worked out of Baltimore and held the eastern ports with an iron grip. His territory’s western border would have ended at West Virginia. In that sense he was Tetsuji Moriyama’s neighbor, and that would have brought him to Kengo’s attention. Neil’s father and Riko’s father were business partners; that’s why Neil was allowed to practice at Edgar Allen’s stadium.
Wymack interpreted his long silence as fear. ‘I’m telling you this because everyone else here already knows the story from Kevin, but don’t worry about the yakuza. Like I said, Kengo and Ichirou mostly keep to New York and couldn’t give a flying fuck what Tetsuji and Riko do. The only way it’s relevant to us is explaining why Tetsuji and Riko are violent and rotten. They have a lot of power behind their name and a rather twisted view of their place in the world. And we happen to have something of theirs.’
‘Kevin,’ Neil said.
‘I’d hoped they’d thrown him away,’ Wymack said. ‘Everyone said Kevin would never play again. Edgar Allen had to release Kevin from his school contract because of the severity of his injuries and Tetsuji didn’t argue when I took Kevin on as an assistant coach. I thought they were ready to let him go. But Tetsuji didn’t take Kevin in out of the goodness of his heart. He raised Kevin to be a star. He put a lot of time and money into Kevin’s development on the court. As far as Tetsuji is considered, Kevin is valuable property. Any profit Kevin makes is rightfully the Moriyamas’.’
‘But Kevin’s handicapped.’
‘He’s still a name,’ Wymack said.
Neil’s head was spinning as he tried to sort it all out. ‘He wants Kevin to transfer back?’
‘If he wanted Kevin to transfer, he’d just say so,’ Wymack said.
‘Kevin wouldn’t really go back,’ Neil said, disbelieving. ‘Not after what Riko did.’
Wymack gave him a pitying look. ‘Tetsuji never formally adopted Kevin. Do you know why? Moriyamas don’t believe in outsiders or equals. Tetsuji took Kevin in and took over his training, but he also gave Kevin to Riko— literally. Kevin isn’t human to them. He’s a project. He’s a pet, and it’s Riko’s name on his leash. The fact he ran away is a miracle. If Tetsuji called tomorrow and told him to come home, Kevin would. He knows what Tetsuji would do to him if he refused. He’d be too afraid to say no.’
Neil thought he’d be sick. He didn’t want to hear anymore of this; he’d already heard too much. He wanted to run until it all started making sense in his head, or at least until the ice left his veins. ‘Then why go through all the trouble of changing districts?’
‘The Moriyamas are ready to cash in on their investment,’ Wymack said. ‘No one honestly expects Kevin to make a comeback, but he signed with us to play. His arrogance is inspiring, and this year he’s still a star. If he can’t keep up and perform, the fans and critics will move on and forget about him. Tetsuji thinks he’ll burn out, so he has to seize the moment now.
‘Our teams are going to make a fortune this season. People are going to be hounding us every step of the way and gambling on our games. There’ll be TV spots and merchandise and all kinds of publicity stunts. Tetsuji is pitting Riko and Kevin against each other knowing how it’ll end. He’ll put it all on the table and let his Ravens destroy us on the court. Rake in the winnings, establish Riko as the superior player forever, and relegate Kevin to the has-beens.’
Neil swallowed hard. ‘What if Coach Moriyama told him to stop playing?’
Wymack was quiet for an endless minute, then said, ‘Kevin only had the strength to leave because Riko destroyed his hand. That was finally one injustice too many. Because of that I’d like to think Kevin would defy Tetsuji, but it’s just as likely we’d never see him with a racquet again. But the day Kevin stops playing forever is the day he dies. He has nothing else. He wasn’t raised to have anything else. Do you understand? We cannot lose to the Ravens this year. Kevin won’t survive it.’
‘We can’t win against them,’ Neil said. ‘We’re the worst team in the nation.’
‘Then it’s time to stop being the worst,’ Wymack said. ‘It’s time to fly.’
‘You don’t really think we can,’ Neil said.
‘If you didn’t think you could, what are you doing here? You wouldn’t have signed the contract if you’d already given up on yourself.’ Wymack half-turned away. ‘I need to make sure Kevin’s not cutting his wrists open in there. It’s probably best if he doesn’t see you right now. I can call Abby to come get you if you want to hang out with the others, but I need you to keep this a secret from your teammates until June. I need time to figure out how we’re going to handle this season.’
‘I won’t say anything,’ Neil said, taking a couple steps back. ‘And don’t worry about me. I’ll go for a run or something.’
‘Kevin should be out of here by four,’ Wymack said. ‘That’s when Andrew’s done with Betsy, so Nicky will pick him up on his way over to her office.’
Neil nodded and left, taking the stairs back down to the ground level.
Neil thought it would be awful if Kevin remembered the boy with the murderous father, but this was worse. This was Kevin maybe remembering that boy when Kevin belonged to an equally horrific family. Neil didn’t remember the Moriyamas, but they’d definitely remember him if they’d done business with his father. The Butcher of Baltimore wasn’t a man easily forgotten. Neither was his wife, who’d stolen five million dollars the night she ran away with the Butcher’s only son. The Butcher turned his people inside-out for years hunting them down. All of his contacts would have heard of it.
Somewhere the ERC was reworking and finalizing a schedule that put the Moriyamas in Neil’s near future. Neil would quit before that match. He had no choice. He’d play up until their game against the Ravens and then run. If he was lucky, the match would come at the end of the fall season so he wouldn’t jeopardize the striker line too much by taking off.
It was stupid and suicidal to stay even that long. Neil knew he should go now, before he met his teammates or the ERC publicized his name or he ever stepped on a court with Kevin Day at his side. It’d seemed an acceptable risk before, since none of his father’s people were into sports. The chance of one of them seeing him on TV during a match was negligible so long as Kevin didn’t figure him out and give him away. Now that he knew who the Moriyamas were and knew they would be watching him, it made absolutely no sense to stay.
Neil had grown up wondering why Kevin and Riko were in that room eight years ago and how they’d overcome it. He’d wondered why their luck and circumstances were so different that they could become international stars while Neil’s life spiraled so quickly out of control. He’d hated and worshipped them all his life, jealous of their successes and desperate for them to excel. Now it seemed he’d been wrong all along; Kevin hadn’t escaped either.
No matter what they did or who they became, maybe they never would.
Neil shoved the stairwell door open so forcefully it banged against the wall and was running before he was even halfway across the lobby. He hit full speed before he reached the street, going so fast he was nearly falling over, but he couldn’t outrun his thoughts.

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