Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 109903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Matt gave Neil a grim smile and closed his locker. He passed Neil on the way to the door and clapped a hand on Neil's shoulder. "Just try not to think about it until we get there. You won't do yourself any favors if you spend the ride stressing out about things you can't change."
Neil nodded and said, "Matt, I'll help Coach with the racquets. I want to ask him something."
"You sure?" Matt asked. "Then here, I'll get your duffel out to the bus. It's awkward dealing with both."
Neil handed the heavy bag over and got the door. Matt turned left and headed for the exit, and Neil went right to the foyer. Wymack had the gear closet open and had already rolled out the trolley the racquets hung on. The protective lids were open so Wymack could check heads. Neil knew the sticks were in good shape, since maintenance was one of the last things the Foxes did before leaving practices everyday, but Wymack was testing string tensions down the line.
Wymack glanced up at Neil's approach but didn't ask why Neil was here in Matt's stead. Neil said nothing at first but reached out and hooked his fingers through the head of his racquet. He was bringing both of his racquets tonight just in case. The racquets were sturdily built to put power behind their throws and withstand all the stick-checking on the court, but even the strongest racquet would break with enough abuse. Neil didn't want to be seven hours from home and have nothing to play with.
"Watch your fingers," Wymack said.
Neil moved so Wymack could snap the lids shut. Plastic latches clicked in rapid succession. Wymack rattled the rack a little to make sure none of them popped open then gestured for Neil to take the front handle. Neil did as he was told but didn't move yet. He stalled, mentally digging for the best way to word his question. He thought Wymack would hurry him along since they had a schedule to keep, but Wymack waited him out.
"I didn't think Andrew had a price tag," Neil said. "He doesn't seem the kind of person who can be bought."
"He's not," Wymack said. "If I asked him to do it for free, he would. The only reason he's getting something out of this is because I know what it'll cost him to play for us tonight."
"But why?" Neil asked. "Why are you so special?"
Wymack arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm not."
"I don't understand."
"Maybe you've noticed how much I let this team get away with," Wymack said. "I know what sort of people I've recruited, and I know some of them need a little help to keep an even keel. So long as no one gets hurt, no one gets caught, and no one is stupid enough to bring it onto my court, I don't care what you guys get up to in your free time. It's not my business because I don't want it to be my business."
Wymack meant the cracker dust party drugs and alcohol Andrew gave his group in Columbia. Neil wasn't sure what surprised him more: that Wymack knew what his defense line was into or that he let it happen. Wymack's inaction wasn't approval, but a man in his position shouldn't condone such things even implicitly. Someone else might think Wymack was being irresponsible. Maybe he was, but Neil knew it wasn't that simple.
Some said Wymack recruited troubled athletes as a publicity stunt. Others thought he was a misguided idealist. Digging up talented wrecks and giving them the chance to turn their lives around was nice in theory and a disaster in reality. Truth was Wymack picked them because he understood firsthand how much they needed another chance. He looked the other way because he knew how badly some of them needed their escapes to survive.
"Does Andrew know you know?" Neil asked.
"Of course he does."
That was interesting. Andrew knew Wymack could keep a tighter leash on him and was choosing not to do so, so when Wymack needed him to pull through he would. Neil thought about it and asked, "Is it respect or prudence?"
"We'll go with the latter," Wymack said. "Andrew likes me about as much as you do."
There was nothing in his tone to make it an accusation, but Neil still winced. "I'm sorry."
"Be sorry while you walk. We're running late."
They rolled the stick rack down the hall to the exit. Neil detoured in the lounge long enough to grab his backpack and Wymack turned off the lights as they went. They waited outside the gate long enough to make sure the lock caught. Getting the rack into the bus was awkward, as they had to load it sideways. Luckily the case around it kept the racquets from dragging against the metal floor of the undercarriage. Wymack slammed the storage doors with a mighty shove, followed Neil onto the bus, and did a headcount from the front.
Everyone else was already on board. Abby had the front row, with Dan and Matt doubled up behind her. Allison and Renee were sitting together in the third row, choosing comfort and companionship over the room to spread out. Because the upperclassmen were doubled up, it left four empty rows between them and Andrew's group.
Unlike their teammates, Andrew's group sat one to a row. Andrew had the very last row, with Kevin right in front of him. Nicky had been in front of Kevin last time, but now Nicky and Aaron were up a row to leave an empty spot in the middle. Neil didn't have to ask why. He dropped his backpack on the third seat and sank into the cushion. Leather creaked as Nicky turned, and Nicky grinned over his seatback at Neil.
"I was starting to think you got lost."
"No," Neil said. "I just wanted to check something."
Finished with his count, Wymack got into the driver's seat. The bus rumbled to life and the doors snapped closed. A few minutes later they were on the road. Neil watched out the window until the campus disappeared from view.