Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
“Sure,” Neil said. “If they bother to show up this week.”
After a few awkward moments, the reporter joked, “That’s it? Last year you had such strong opinions about the Ravens.”
“Most were about their coach and Riko, but those two aren’t a problem anymore.” Neil shrugged indifference. The way he was jostled made Jeremy think Kevin kicked him where the camera couldn’t see it. Neil returned Kevin’s withering look with an unimpressed stare and only said, “If you’d ever be honest when people ask you about them, I wouldn’t have to be.”
“Says the least honest man I know,” Kevin said.
“They don’t deserve kindness from me after everything they’ve put us through,” Neil insisted. “I hope they lose every game this season, and I’ll say it as many times as someone asks me. They don’t belong on the court until everyone Coach Moriyama trained has been cleared out of there. Edgar Allan should have farmed them out to other schools and dismantled the entire program, if you ask me.”
“He didn’t ask you,” Kevin said. “Stay on topic.”
“The topic was the Ravens,” was Neil’s unrepentant response.
“Speaking of misplaced Ravens, I assume you watched USC’s match last Friday,” the reporter said, tipping his microphone back toward Kevin. It worked like a charm: Kevin forgot all about his contentious teammate in favor of Trojan gossip. “Setting aside how the night supposedly ended, what a brilliant start for your favorite team.”
“Supposedly,” Jeremy echoed, and got the same indignant message from Cat a few seconds later.
“A little unfortunate for me,” the reporter admitted with a laugh. “My coworkers and I had an informal bet that Moreau would get in at least one brawl. I thought for sure we would see the Trojans’ first red card.”
Maybe he expected Kevin to agree with him, but Kevin affected confusion. “The USC Trojans don’t fight on the court. It’s their most controversial and well-known statistic. I’m sure you know that.”
“Yes, but—” The reporter floundered for a moment. “It being Moreau’s first game with such restrictions, I would have expected him to fall back on old habits. Impressive that he didn’t,” he added when it was obvious Kevin was not going to help him out. “A fantastic debut all around, wouldn’t you say?”
“Sure,” Neil said, with a smile that had Jeremy leaning away from his computer. “Glad to see his ribs healed up without any lingering consequences for anyone involved.” He grimaced when Kevin kicked him again. Kevin’s face looked carved from stone as he stared down at his short teammate, but he didn’t have to say anything. Neil let it go with an easy, “Anyway, we’re over our time and need to get back to the court.”
“You mentioned Moreau’s ribs?” the interviewer pressed.
“Renee and Andrew are last, right?” Neil asked as he stood.
Pin-pon, Jeremy’s phone went, and Jeremy read Laila’s, “Forever an instigator.”
Jeremy started typing out a response, but the interviewer tried a last ditch, “Kevin, would you care to explain that comment?” and Kevin went still.
Jeremy set his phone aside to watch the way Kevin and Neil stared each other down. That Kevin gave ground first was unexpected, but at last Kevin tilted his left hand where he could see his scars. He rubbed idly at the pale skin for a few moments, then flicked a steady look at the off-screen interviewer.
“With all due respect, there is no point,” he said. “You will never take anyone’s word over theirs, so you are best off asking the Ravens for the truth. But good luck: they do not know how to tell it unless one has been fed to them.” He motioned for Neil to get a move on. This time Neil went without argument, starting for the door without another look at the interviewer. Kevin turned after him with, “Thank you for your time. We will send you the next pair.”
Jeremy belatedly remembered his phone. “Scale of one to ten, how angry is Jean?”
“And I quote, ‘Rancid menace’,” Laila answered a few seconds later. Before Jeremy could worry, she sent a few more texts: “He left the room as soon as Kevin sicced the reporter on the Ravens. Cat went after him. Going to pause here until they get back, though I’m not sure Jean will watch the rest. What about you?”
Jeremy glanced at his screen. Andrew Minyard and Renee Walker were now settled in front of the camera, Renee with a small smile and Andrew looking bored into the distance. Jeremy paused the clip to study the Foxes’ goalkeepers. Andrew was technically the greater threat on the court, but Jeremy’s gaze lingered on Renee. Before Friday’s short phone call, his only interaction with her was the handshake at last year’s semifinals, but he knew she was important to Jean. They texted on a regular basis, and Kevin had recognized her cross on sight when he saw Jean wearing it.