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)
“This remote village in the Netherlands was the setting of 1991’s To Death We Dance,” the host said.
“Giethoorn,” Laila said immediately.
One of the contestants slapped her buzzer. “What is Giethoorn?”
“Got ‘em,” Cat said with drowsy pride.
Jeremy had a few precious seconds during points assignment to squeeze between the TV and coffee table; although the host read off every question, Laila wanted to see it written out on the screen. There was one last question before commercials, or so the host said, so Jeremy got comfortable on the couch cushion nearest his friends while it was presented to the team. Laila only needed to hear half of it before saying,
“Hobgoblin’s Thunder.”
“Who are Hobgoblin’s Thunder?” a man said right after her.
Laila twisted in circles, searching the cushion around her hips and thighs. With a frown she leaned forward, pushing Cat with her body so she could check the coffee table. She still came back empty-handed, and asked, “Babe?”
Cat reached back without looking and pulled the remote control out from under the papasan chair. Laila took it, muted the TV for commercials, and put it down where she would likely lose it again. She glanced at Jeremy, then over at Jean where he’d predictably stopped in the living room doorway. Jeremy watched her gaze settle on the black cloth in Jean’s hand, but Laila was good enough not to comment on the color.
“What’d you think of campus?” Cat asked.
“Green,” Jean said, and didn’t elaborate. He turned his shirt over in his hands, glanced Jeremy’s way as if making sure he was staying put, and then vanished down the hall.
As soon as he was out of sight Laila and Cat turned expectant looks on Jeremy. He grimaced and pulled out his phone long enough to tap out, “It is way too much to write. Later, OK?” into the group chat he had with just the two of them. Laila couldn’t find her phone even with the lingering chime it gave off, but Cat saw that coming and held hers up where Laila could see. Laila looked pensive but nodded. Cat was harder to deter.
“At least give us something,” she sent back.
Jeremy jostled his phone between his hands. He wondered what would tide her over until later. Which insight would earn the most discretion on Jean’s first night in California? If Jeremy admitted she might be right about them being a cult, she’d be too curious to bite her tongue. In the end the best he could do was borrow someone else’s words, and he forwarded Kevin’s last text message to them. Cat skimmed it first before starting to lift it for Laila, but her hand never made it that far. She went still as stone as she stared, and Laila had to pry her phone out of her hand to read it.
Cat got to her feet faster than Jeremy had ever seen her move outside of the court, and Jeremy grabbed at her to stop her. She sent him an impatient look that screamed I know, and Jeremy typed out but didn’t send “He insists it happened in scrimmages.” He held his phone up long enough for her to read it before deleting it. Cat balled her hands into fists, relaxed them, and did it again.
On the third attempt her expression cleared, and she sailed out of the room with a loud, “Jean, I’m stealing you. Come help me with dinner.”
“I don’t know if he’ll eat it,” Jeremy admitted in her absence.
Laila slid off her papasan chair and onto the cushion at his side. Jeremy propped himself against her automatically, waited for Cat’s music to start up in the kitchen, and quietly recounted as much of the day as he could. Laila listened to it all without interruption, knowing they were working on whatever time Cat could borrow for them. When he finally went silent, Laila reached over and gave his hand a short, tight squeeze.
“No wonder they’re so nasty all the time,” she said. “They’re not allowed to be human.” She thought that over for a few moments, then said, “We’re going to have to keep him very busy until practices start. If Ravens are only allowed to exist as players, then there’s no telling what’s going on up here when he can’t even gear up for another five or six weeks.” She gestured toward her temple.
Jeremy considered that. “Maybe being numbered helps balance it out, even if it subjects him to even greater expectations? Guaranteed spot on the lineup, kind of thing. He can take the time he needs to heal because he knows his rank is secure.”
Or maybe he was used to it, but that thought was too insidious and impossible. “I haven’t been taken off the court this long in years,” Jean had said after meeting with Davis. Jeremy wondered how literal that “taken off” was supposed to be. Had it been another accidental confession, or had he been including normal injuries as well? The Ravens weren’t exactly clean players; it wasn’t hard to imagine that they would sideline each other for a day or two on a regular basis.