Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 109903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
CHAPTER FOUR
The ride to Belmonte University was relatively uneventful. Neil had brought along schoolwork to pass the time, but he didn't have enough homework to fill a six-hour drive. Luckily Nicky could talk for days once someone got him going, so Neil had someone to distract him from how long they were on the road. Renee joined them at one point to talk about possible plays and ask for advice. She'd already talked to Matt and Wymack, but she wanted to bounce ideas off the other half of the defense line.
Abby drove most of the way so Wymack could sleep. They were driving back after the game instead of checking into a hotel for the night. Wymack would drive that leg and hopefully wouldn't send them off the road. They could have just hired a driver like most schools did, but Wymack was almost as leery of dealing with outsiders as his Foxes were. It was apparently better to be uncomfortable but safe than to trust a stranger with his fractured team.
They stopped for gas and a bathroom break, stopped again for a quick dinner, and crossed a time zone on their way to Nashville. First serve was at seven-thirty, but Neil's watch said they reached the stadium at seven forty-five. There was no point in setting his watch back an hour just for one game, so he took it off and stuffed it in his duffel bag.
They left the bus in a fenced-in parking lot manned by a couple of dispassionate security guards. Two volunteers waited for the Foxes to unload their gear before leading them to the away team's locker room. Neil trusted his feet to get him there and looked around. Belmonte University's stadium was almost identical to the Foxhole Court in the size and build, but it was hard for Neil to see the similarities when the crowd swarming around them wore green. He looked for orange and couldn't find it anywhere.
After four months at the Foxhole Court, Neil found the layout of Belmonte's locker room disorienting. The rooms were larger, to accommodate the league's bigger teams, but it felt smaller and backwards somehow. The changing rooms were right inside the door they came in, and the bathroom was separate. Neil guessed it was cheaper to have one unisex bathroom than install toilets in both changing rooms. There was a room Abby could use in case any of her players got injured. The last and largest room was for the Foxes to argue strategies between halves and meet the press after the game.
One of the volunteers took the back door into the stadium to find the referees and alert Coach Harrison to their arrival. The other went over a checklist of basic rules with Wymack and Abby. Wymack had to wait for the officials so he could turn in their paperwork and roster, so he sent the Foxes ahead to change out.
Neil carried his bag into the bathroom and locked himself in a stall. It was a cramped space to change out in, but he'd had a lot of practice. He pulled his shirt up over his head and draped it over the top of the door so he could get his chest armor on. He yanked the straps tight, twisted to check his mobility, and snapped the buckles to lock his gear in place. He strapped his shoulder pads on overtop and hooked them into his chest plate. Neil had to dig past the rest of his gear to find his jersey. The Foxes had two sets of uniforms: home and away. The former was orange with white lettering and the latter was reverse. Neil liked the white version better as it was a little easier on the eyes.
He didn't need to hide to put on the rest of his uniform, so he stuffed his t-shirt into his duffel and headed to the men's changing room. He only made it three feet inside the door before he realized he had a serious problem. An open, narrow doorway was all that separated the lockers and benches from communal showers. Even from here Neil could see there weren't stall doors. Neil should have expected this, but he'd forgotten, lulled to complacency by the Foxhole Court's setup. The only reason the Foxes had private stalls in the men's room was because Wymack specifically commissioned them.
Neil forcibly focused on the task at hand. First he had to survive the game. Then he could worry about the showers. Neil relaxed his death grip on his duffel bag strap and found a spot to finish changing. His teammates were almost done already, since they didn't have to worry about hiding while they dressed, and they filed out as they finished.
Neil toed out of his shoes, peeled his socks off, and traded jean shorts for jersey shorts. He had to sit down to tug his shin guards on and he kicked his legs a bit to make sure they were snug. Knee-length socks covered the guards and he put on his court shoes. His under-gloves were fingerless and buckled above his elbows. He fastened his arm guards around his forearms but wouldn't need his armored gloves until he was stepping onto the court. He tucked them into his helmet for later. His neck guard was little more than an orange choker. It was uncomfortable but it'd hopefully keep an errant ball from crushing his windpipe. An orange bandana got his hair out of his face and he hooked it tight at the back. With that Neil was ready to go.
Wymack was waiting for them in the main room. Neil was the last to show up, but because he was a striker he was bumped to third in line. They were arranged by positions, but Dan was in front as their captain and Renee was standing with Allison as the substitute dealer. That was weird, but Neil was more concerned with his spot. Standing behind Kevin meant having Allison at his back. Neil didn't look at her as he crossed the room, and she didn't say a word to him when he stopped in front of her.