Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 87395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
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?"