Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Andrew started for the stairs, rightfully assuming Neil would follow. The car was at the curb, hazards flashing. The other three of their group squished into the backseat. Neil didn't know who'd talked Kevin to giving up the passenger seat or why, but it wasn't worth asking about. He got in and buckled up.
"I didn't tell anyone I was going to the library," he said when Andrew got them on the road.
"You only have a couple hiding spots," Nicky said. "Coach said you weren't at the stadium. You didn't answer your phone when we called."
Neil patted his pockets and dug his phone out. When he flipped it open the screen stayed dark. He'd charged it yesterday, but not for long. He flipped it shut and dropped it in the cup holder between the front seats. Andrew reached across the car and popped open the glove compartment. A charger was tucked inside. For a moment Neil thought Andrew had gone through his things, but the red sticker on the cord wasn't familiar. This had to be Andrew's, then; they had the same model phone. Neil pulled the charger out and snapped the glove compartment closed again.
A key was fastened to the adapter head with a rubber band. Neil had used Andrew's car key often enough in the past couple months to recognize the shape of it. Neil looked from it to the key in the ignition. Either Andrew had confiscated Nicky's copy or he'd gone out and gotten Neil one of his own. Neither option made much sense to Neil. He'd only used Andrew's car because Andrew needed a second driver in his absence.
It was a short drive to the Foxhole Court and Andrew didn't follow them inside. Neil keyed in the code to let them in and preceded the others into the locker room. Wymack and Abby were waiting for him in the lounge. Abby looked immeasurably sad as she took in Neil's sorry state, but she didn't chastise him for what he'd done or ask him why. Maybe she'd gotten satisfactory answers from Wymack already, or maybe Wymack was here to make sure she didn't pry. Neil was grateful either way.
"I can't believe you trusted David to patch you up," Abby said. "The man can barely wash a dish, much less clean stitches."
"Shush, woman," Wymack said. "I was careful with him."
Abby beckoned with both hands for Neil to follow. "Come on, let's take a look at you."
She led the way into her office and closed the door as soon as he was inside. Climbing onto the bed wasn't quite as painful as climbing the ladder to his loft was, and Neil perched on the edge of the thin mattress. Abby collected gauze and antiseptic while Neil tried to get his sweater over his head. He gritted his teeth at the heat that knifed down his shoulders into his back and tried to take shallow breaths through the pain.
Abby helped him with the sleeves and carefully set his sweater aside. Neil picked a spot on the far wall to look at and sat silent while she worked. She started at the top, gently rubbing her fingers through his hair for hidden bumps, and worked her way down. Wymack had just checked Neil yesterday morning, but Abby peeled off all of Neil's bandages save the one on his cheekbone.
"He told you about my tattoo," Neil said.
"And these." Abby slid her thumbs along the tender skin under his eyes.
"You won't ask?" Neil said.
"I've seen your scars, Neil. I'm not as surprised as I should be to find out they're not the only things you hide. I want to ask, but you told me once already not to pry."
She went back to work, but it was a long time before she finished. When she was done with his upper half she still had to take care of his legs. The striped bruises across his thighs, left there by heavy racquets, had her pursing her lips in outrage. There were layers of them, fresher purple ones over fading green and yellow. Neil's knees weren't better off, consequence of falling to them so many times.
"Coach won't let me on the court until you clear me," Neil said. "How soon can you?"
Abby looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language. "You can gear up when you don't look like you were trampled in the derby."
"I'm getting better," Neil said. "Besides, I played in worse shape at Evermore."
"This isn't Evermore. I know the season is important to you, but I won't let you risk your safety and health any further. You need to take it easy for a while. For a week," she said, raising her voice when Neil started to protest. "Next Tuesday I'll decide whether or not I want to let you play. If you do anything strenuous between now and then I will bench you for another week. Understand? Use this week to rest. And when you can, leave the bandages off. These need to air."
"A week," Neil echoed. "That isn't fair."
"No," Abby said, and cupped his face in her hands. "This isn't fair. None of this is."
The pain in her voice killed Neil's argument in his throat. Abby looked him over, tracing his vicious scars and new wounds with a desolate gaze.
"Sometimes I think this job is going to kill me," Abby said. "Seeing what people have done, what people continue to do, to my Foxes. I wish I could protect you, but I'm always too late. All I can do is patch you up afterward and hope for the best. I'm sorry, Neil. We should have been there for you."
"I wouldn't have let you be," Neil said.
Abby folded her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. She tried to be careful, but it hurt regardless. It wasn't pain that made Neil go still, but uncertainty. The only people who'd ever hugged Neil were his teammates, and those were quick squeezes throughout a good game. His mother had pulled him close before, but usually it was when they were sidestepping curious eyes and she wanted to shield him with her body. She'd never held him like he was something to be sheltered. She'd always been hard. She'd been fierce and unbreakable until the end.