Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“I don’t know what it was like to be a Raven or how he felt learning from Coach Moriyama himself. I don't know if he had friends or girlfriends. I don’t know what kind of music he likes anymore.” Lucas paused as they passed the coaches’ bench before saying, “I don’t even know his fucking major. Do you get it? The only thing I know about my own brother, my only brother, is that he hates you. He hates me for being on the team that stole you.”
“So you hate me in solidarity,” Jean concluded. “Perhaps you should have been a Raven, except you never would have qualified with those stats.”
“Get fucked.”
“Business.”
“What?”
Jean said it loud and slow: “All Ravens are required to major in business.”
It earned him a lap of peace before Lucas said again, “Tell me why you hate him.”
“You might not know him, but I do,” Jean said.
“That’s not an answer,” Lucas said, but Jean had nothing more to say on the matter. Lucas tried to outlast him before asking, “Did you fuck my brother?”
Teeth, Jean thought. Fingers in his hair; a bruising grip on his chin. For a moment he felt the sticky heat of breath on his face, and he scrubbed the memory away as hard as he could. Reaching for his neck was instinctive, but his fingernails hit his neck guard first. He ran his tongue along the backs of his teeth, trying to erase the taste of Grayson’s skin, and bit the inside of his cheek to bleeding.
“I asked you a question,” Lucas said.
“I’m ignoring you,” Jean said, as if that wasn’t obvious.
“You want me to take his word,” Lucas reminded him. “If I’m supposed to be weighing his words, give me something to weigh them against. I already know—think I know—the answer based on what you said in front of the coaches, but I need you to say it.”
“I do not care what you need,” Jean said, peeling his neck guard off. His fingers found the spot where Grayson liked to bite and dug in with his fingernails. He wanted to claw this memory out of him, but the best he could do was draw blood.
They rounded the corner to find Jeremy off the court and in their path, and they both slowed to a halt in front of him. Jeremy didn’t look at Lucas but moved to Jean immediately and caught hold of his wrist. Jean realized with a start that this was what had pulled Jeremy out of the scrimmage. Thinking Jeremy had been paying more attention to him than to practice was unsettling.
Jeremy gave his hand a careful tug. When Jean held fast, Jeremy looked over at Lucas and said, “See if Coach will put you back in.”
Lucas took a half-step back, then another, and finally turned to go. Jean never wanted to talk to him again, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking: “Is he home?”
Lucas could have ignored him, but the other man came to an abrupt stop. Jean used his free hand to push Jeremy’s shoulder, and Jeremy obediently turned so Jean could see past him. Lucas was quiet for a minute as if debating whether he wanted to respond, then finally said, “He was released yesterday, and he has a flight back to West Virginia on Saturday. He didn’t even call me to say he was out. I had to find out from Mom.”
He didn’t wait for a response before setting off again. Jeremy turned a worried look on Jean and gave his hand another tug. This time Jean loosened his grip and let Jeremy pull his hand free. Jeremy touched his chin, trying to get him to turn his head so he could see the damage better, but Jean snapped his neck guard back into place. It stung, and he’d feel it all practice, but it was too sharp to be teeth and that was fine by him.
“Talk to me,” Jeremy said, almost too quiet for Jean to hear him.
There were only so many ways to argue with Jeremy, so Jean went the route most likely to buy him some peace: “Not today.”
Jean had no intentions of ever explaining, but the lack of an outright ‘no’ gave Jeremy enough false hope to let it go for now. He sighed defeat as he backed out of Jean’s space. “Another day, maybe.”
The rest of the day’s practice felt endless. When they finally let him onto the court again, Jean put every ounce of his concentration into what he was doing and how he was playing. When he was pulled to give someone else time, there wasn’t enough action on the sidelines to keep his thoughts from wandering. He thought about Grayson and Frederico Rossi and Evermore and Riko, and he ran the stadium steps to try and burn his thoughts away.