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)
“He likes the muzzle you have put on me,” Jean returned. “If I could treat him honestly, he would have walked out weeks ago.”
“And would that make you happy?” Jeremy asked, studying him with a steady look. “Treating him like a Raven, I mean, with your contrition and anger and perfectionism. Would you enjoy it? Because I don’t think you would; I think you’re just so caught up on the results that you’ll accept whatever process will get you there fastest. He’s a kid, Jean. He’s got five whole years ahead of him.”
Jean was saved from answering when the teacher stood up from his desk to start class, but the question chased him as he filled his pages with notes. “Would you enjoy it?” He imagined driving the butt of his racquet into Tanner’s back or hitting him across his padding hard enough that Tanner would feel it for days, and he drew agitated circles in the corner of his page. It would be for Tanner’s benefit, obviously; a couple good hits and the man would either step up or give up. Jean was doing him a grave disservice being so tolerant with his mistakes. Tanner’s future and the Trojans’ success were more important than anyone’s individual happiness.
And yet.
The Trojans placed second in the nation more often than they did third, and they’d given the Ravens a good run this spring. Slow and steady and unserious was working for them, for the most part. With a little more grit and a little more blood, maybe they could have already closed that gap and seized the victory they claimed they wanted. Instead, they’d settled into their role of being second place. Objectively, they were a failure of a team, a squandered collection of phenomenal talent.
Even still. Jean curled his fingers into a slow fist, looking for pain that had long since faded. When the season started next week and he could see firsthand how they handled their opponents, he would know for sure how wretched this year was going to be.
-
Friday was the messiest day of the week to handle, as the only one of Jean’s classes to carry over was his eight o’clock business writing class. He had nowhere to be until afternoon practice started at three. The absence of ceramics meant Jeremy was also free, except he had to leave campus for therapy on Friday. Cat should have been available for at least part of the morning, but she had meetings with her advisors to discuss changes to her program. Shane left Jean with Xavier and Min instead, who turned him over to Nabil an hour later, and then Emma and Mads came to steal him away. Jeremy returned only ten minutes before Cody could stake a claim on Jean’s time.
“You showered again,” Jean said as Jeremy got settled at his side.
Jeremy stared blank-faced at him. “Uh?”
“Different cologne.” Jean dragged a highlighter over a relevant section of his notes. “This one does not suit you whatsoever.”
Jeremy tugged at his shirt to sniff it. “Oh, I didn’t even notice. Not mine,” he explained when Jean glanced his way. “I bumped into a friend on my way back to campus. Is it really that offensive?”
Knowing it had come off another man’s body made it twice as terrible. “Yes.”
“Sorry,” Jeremy said, sounding more amused than apologetic. He scooted out of Jean’s space, then moved again when he realized he was upwind of Jean. His smile was irreverent when he asked, “Better?” and Jean refused to humor him with a response. Jeremy didn’t press him for an answer but flopped back on the grass with a satisfied smile. Jean highlighted the same section again with a little more force.
Jeremy looked at peace, but Jean found the silence grating. Cody’s arrival a few minutes later finally broke the tension, and the older backliner dropped into the empty space at Jean’s side. Today they had a little carton of strawberries with them, and they held it up in offering. Jeremy made a face at the sight, and Cody rolled their eyes before divvying it up between just the two of them. Jean ate his slowly, savoring the tang, and was only halfway through when Cody looked between him and Jeremy.
“Ready for tomorrow?” they asked.
The western district followed the same schedule as the northeast: the first weekend of the year was reserved for the fall banquet. It was an easy meet-and-greet before the season got underway, a chance to assess one’s opponents without the sourness of a first game already muddying the atmosphere. The south and central districts put anywhere from one to three matches on the schedule first, which Jean had found annoyingly backwards last year.
This year the University of Arizona was hosting. Laila guessed it would be an eight- to nine-hour drive once breaks were accounted for, and she’d taken him out last week to find something appropriate to wear.