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)
“The—head coach gave us a special schedule,” Jean said.
Laila propped her hip against the island by his side to stare him down. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but you’ve got this funny little hitch every time you talk about Coach Moriyama. It’s always ‘the—’” She put her hands up and went perfectly still, exaggerating the brief catch. “Kind of curious what it is you keep biting off. You’ve noticed it, haven’t you?” she asked Jeremy.
“Yes,” Jeremy admitted. “I thought it a conversation for another day.”
“I think now’s a great time,” Laila said, turning on Jean again.
Unsurprisingly, Jean picked the lesser evil: “Ravens use sixteen-hour days.”
Cat almost took her fingers off when she slammed her knife down. “Excuse me?”
Jean kept his attention on his carrots as he went back to work with new energy. “We took two classes a day in back-to-back periods with dedicated professors to minimize time away from Evermore. Four and a half hours for sleep, three and a half for classes and transit to campus. Odd days were eight hours on the court; evens were six with two hours for school-related necessities and personal upkeep.
“It was never perfectly static. Game nights pulled it out of alignment, as did classes. We were scattered across too many years to line our lessons up exactly. Because of it we rarely had all of the Ravens at Evermore outside of games. Holidays were a different story,” he said, as if that made any of this easier to listen to. “When classes weren’t in session, we ran ten-sixes: four hours to sleep, six hours to practice, two hours to rest, four hours to practice. An ideal schedule that ensured we were all in sync.”
There was a fierce tug at the corner of his mouth, irritation or frustration quickly held in check, and he said, “The perfect Court had a different schedule out of necessity, as we had… extracurricular studies to tend to. Still sixteen hours, but a different breakdown. After Kevin left, I had the least amount of time to practice. It was not viewed favorably by the rest, but I will make up for it here. I will not fall behind.”
Laila plucked the vegetable peeler out of his hands and cast it aside. He reached for it automatically, but Laila caught his shoulder to turn him to face her. She took hold of his face in both hands. Jeremy couldn’t see her face from here, but Jean went perfectly still at whatever he saw in her expression.
“I need you to listen to me for one moment,” Laila said, “and I need you to believe me when I say it. Fuck Coach Moriyama.”
“So the wholesome front is an act,” Jean noted. “It makes you marginally more tolerable, though it doesn’t explain why you would willfully shoot yourselves in the foot.”
“Do not deflect,” Laila warned him quietly. “He kept you isolated and exhausted for years, and for what? None of you deserved what he put you through. Do you understand me?”
“I am Jean Moreau,” he told her. “I have always gotten exactly what I deserve.”
“And what did you do to deserve broken ribs?” Laila demanded.
“You would not understand, and I will not try to explain it to you.”
Cat piped up, “What we don’t understand is how a grown-ass man took a bunch of kids and turned them into monsters for sport. With so much money and prestige at play I know why they let him get away with it, but damn. The gap between first and second place cannot be worth all that cruelty.”
“Being first is all that matters,” Jean said, prying Laila’s hands off his face. “The Ravens understood that.”
“But they’re not first anymore,” Laila said. “You said they would implode when everything they knew got taken away from you, and earlier I might’ve thought you were exaggerating. But they’re all ticking bombs, aren’t they? And if losing to Palmetto State didn’t light the fuse, then Riko dying did.”
Jean flinched, and Jeremy stepped in with a short, “Enough.” It earned him a hooded look from Laila, but Jeremy only shook his head and said, “That’s enough for tonight. He spent his whole morning traveling and is three hours ahead in his head still. A bit unfair to pick a fight when he’s probably exhausted and half-asleep.” He wasn’t entirely sure Laila and Cat would back down, so instead he turned on Jean and changed the subject:
“Sure, there’s a bit of an act involved in being a Trojan, but that doesn’t mean it’s a complete lie. Some of us are here for a good education and prestige, so it’s worth toeing the line and playing along. Some of us want to be good role models for those coming after us. And some of us just really want to have fun.
“I wasn’t born a Trojan, right? My high school team was just like every other school out there. So competitive, so much bad-mouthing, so many put-downs. And it was just… exhausting, playing like that. All that pressure on one side and all that antagonism on the other.” He clapped his hands together as if crushing his past self between the two. “We go out of our way to be good sports for the people we play against and the people watching, but mostly it’s for us. To show that we can still have fun and excel without resorting to poison.”