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)
"As if you feel any differently," Kevin sent Neil.
Neil fixed Kevin with a stony look. "Maybe if you'd stuck around a moment longer you'd understand why I don't care anymore. When you came upstairs, did you hear him laughing, Kevin? He was," he said, ignoring the way Nicky flinched and the quick look Dan shot Matt, "before Drake even hit the ground. So yes, even I would give up this season. And after everything he's done and every risk he's taken for you, you'd better feel the same."
"It's not that simple," Kevin started.
"Then simplify it," Neil cut in.
Kevin went quiet. A minute later, he started drinking in earnest. The others were quick to join him. Renee and Neil kept watch while their teammates tried to drink themselves blind over the next few hours. They had dinner delivered to the dorm even though none of them had much of an appetite. The deliveryman called Renee's phone when he made it to the front desk and Neil went downstairs with her to collect the bags. There were athletes coming and going in the lobby, and Neil didn't miss the way conversations died when the Foxes were spotted. Luckily no one was stupid enough to bother them.
Renee waited until they were on the elevator again before asking, "And you, Neil? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Neil said, and Renee didn't push it.
Dinner took some of the edge off their teammates' drunkenness, but not for long. Neil watched as they passed out one at a time. He expected the girls to retire to their bedroom, but only Allison got up and left. Dan fell asleep curled against Matt on the couch, and Renee nodded off on the floor with Nicky and Kevin. Neil listened to their breathing even out, the last man standing, and finally went to the door. He sat in one of the corners there so he could have a wall at his back and still keep an eye on everyone. It wasn't exactly comfortable, sleeping with his knees hugged to his chest, but he buried his face in his arms and willed himself to stop thinking for the night.
Morning practices usually started at six at the campus gym for weights and cardio, but Wymack pushed it back to ten and called his team to the stadium instead. Neil drove because Nicky was in bad shape. Despite the few hours of extra rest, most of the Foxes had had enough to drink last night that they still looked bleary-eyed where they sat around the locker room. Aaron was conspicuously absent, but no one was surprised and Wymack didn't comment. Neil hadn't seen Aaron in the cousins' room that morning and assumed he was holed up with Katelyn somewhere.
"Let's talk about the season," Wymack said, because it was his job to keep them moving no matter what tragedy tried to set them back. "I spent most of yesterday talking to the Class I coaches about our situation, starting with Coach Rhemann."
Neil dimly recognized the name, but he was too tired to place it. The way the others perked up told him the man was important. Kevin, in particular, looked supremely interested to hear what came next.
"I've got a conference call with the ERC this afternoon to determine our status," Wymack said. "I don't know which way they're going to swing. Andrew's still enrolled as a student at Palmetto State. Easthaven and the registrar's office agreed this morning to let him finish the semester long-distance. That means he's still contracted with us, so we're within regs.
"This is a bit more drastic than having him benched with an injury, though. An injury is treatable and calculable. Andrew's current treatment isn't that black-and-white. But," Wymack continued, "Rhemann has taken our side. He offered to speak on our behalf if need be, and he's helped reach out to the others."
Neil finally recognized the name. James Rhemann was the head coach for the USC Trojans, one of the Big Three in NCAA Exy. USC didn't have Edgar Allan's flawless record, but the Trojans were known for their sportsmanship. They'd won the Day Spirit Award seven years straight and had yet to receive a single red-card: an impossible feat considering their long history and their ranking. It made sense Wymack would turn to them for help first.
"As of this morning, the vote across the Class I teams is almost unanimous," Wymack said. "They want us to finish the season."
"They—what?" Dan almost choked on it. "Why? They've never supported us before."
"Does it matter?" Matt asked. "If they'll fight the ERC for us, I'll take it."
"Maybe they're mocking us," Allison said. "We've knocked down too many teams in the southeast this year. They want us to play so we fail at last. They want to see us put back in our place. More fool them. We've still got Renee, and that's all we need."
"It's not a guarantee," Wymack said, holding up a hand to calm them. "The ERC has to listen, but they don't have to accept. I just wanted you to know there's still a chance for us. That means we have to bring it today like the news is already good, get me? So change out and get down to the court. I want one lap for every time you've ever said the NCAA's never had your back."
"Oh, Jesus," Nicky said. "We'll be running all day."
"Better get started, then," Wymack said. "Move out, maggots."
Despite that breezy command, Wymack stopped them after they'd run three miles' worth. They stretched out as a group, changed into their gear, and hit the court for drills. Wymack pushed hard until noon, then gave control to Dan and went to take the ERC's call. Knowing he was upstairs arguing for their right to finish the season was more than a little distracting, but Dan kept them moving so they couldn't dwell on it.
Wymack was gone for almost an hour. He banged on the court door when he made it back, signaling a stop to practice. Instead of waiting for them to leave the court, he joined them on it. The Foxes stood frozen, afraid to move, almost afraid to breathe. Wymack's poker face did nothing to help them.