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)
“Did it make you happy?” Cody finally asked. “Knowing you were pissing off your opponents, I mean. Getting under their skin and riling them up?”
“Of course,” Jean said.
“Me too,” Cody agreed, and Jean just looked at them. “Imagine you’re doing everything you can to make me lose my cool. Tripping, shoving, ugly checks when the referees aren’t looking, insulting me and my mom and everything under the sun, and I’m just doing this back at you the whole time.” They pointed up at their face and gave a bright smile. “Which one of us do you think is gonna snap first?”
“You have permission to use my favorite line if someone tries getting to you,” Cat said as she settled in at Jean’s other side. She flashed two thumbs up and intoned, “Have a winning day!” She couldn’t hold her wide-eyed innocent look for long before dissolving into laughter, and she nudged Jean. “If you use it at the right moment, it has an eighty-percent success rate of starting a fight. Then you just take a couple hits, boom bam bang, and you get to score on the penalty.”
“I assumed the Trojans were idiots,” Jean said. “Now I think you are all insane.”
“It’s a step up,” Cody said. “I’ll take it.”
The Trojans stayed for almost another hour before finally heading out as a large group. They’d come in two cars that they’d parked on campus, so Cat and Laila walked them out while Jean got to work tidying up the kitchen. Jeremy joined him, wiping down counters and the island while Jean handled the dishes. Cat and Laila offered to take over halfway through, but ended up eating candy at the island when Jeremy waved them off.
“What do you think?” Jeremy asked Jean.
Jean gave it due consideration. “They’ll do.”
“Your enthusiasm knows no bounds,” Laila said dryly.
“We’ll make a Trojan of him yet,” Cat agreed.
-
Summer practices would be split between the stadium and fitness center, but the Trojans would always start at the court so they could change out and park on-site. The first day started with a boisterous meeting as teammates reconnected after almost two months apart. The team’s seven freshmen tried to play it cool and make a good first impression, but Jean caught more than one of them staring around the expansive locker rooms in awe and disbelief.
The coaches allowed them a few minutes to get the excitement out of their system before sitting everyone down for introductions. When it was Jean’s turn to speak, he offered up the absolute bare minimum:
“Jean Moreau, defense.”
“The Jean Moreau,” he heard Lucas mutter from a few spots down.
Coach Rhemann didn’t seem to hear, too busy watching Jean. “That’s it?”
Everyone who’d gone before him had added irrelevant factoids: home states, majors, and, in more than a few cases, what they liked to do in their free time. It had been exhausting to listen to, and Jean would be damned if he followed suit. Speaking to a coach demanded a bit of tact, though, so Jean only said, “It is all I am, Coach.”
He half-expected Rhemann to push the matter, but the man only nodded and moved to the next in line. At long last they were finally done, and all four coaches said their bit. Paperwork followed, and Jean idly wondered why the Trojans had to sign their own waivers. The Ravens’ coaches had handled all of the behind-the-scenes work. This was tedious and a waste of his time when he could be practicing.
At long last they were dismissed to their lockers to change into their workout uniforms. Each line had been given a different row for their lockers, but the players weren’t in numerical order. Jean considered it against the team’s introductions before deciding they were arranged by grade. Shawn Anderson, Pat, and Cody had the first three spots as fifth-year seniors. Jean was the only actual senior on the line, and then came the three juniors. Cat had the locker next to his, and she was chatting away with Haoyu Liu as she redid her ponytail.
“Xavier!” one of the younger defensemen—Travis?—called out, and Jean looked to see the vice-captain standing shirtless at Shawn’s locker. Travis almost knocked Jean over in his hurry to get by, but Jean didn’t notice. He was distracted by the pair of horizontal scars on Xavier’s chest. “Heck yeah, man! How are you feeling? Are you okay to be back?”
“Never been better,” Xavier said with a wide smile. “I’ve been walking since the day after I was discharged. Started light weights around week five. I should be good to go for full contact, but Coach L’s going to put me on no-touch until closer to the semester just in case. I’m just now getting started on heavier weights and a proper routine, but that means I can keep an eye on our new kids while the rest of you leave us in the dust.”