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)
"You," he said, "attempt to behave this time. Don't pick fights with him today."
"Yes, Coach."
Wymack looked skeptical but didn't argue. "Let's go, then."
The Blackwell stadium was eerily quiet. Everyone who'd arrived already was on the court. Thick cushioned mats covered the polished floor to keep table legs and chairs from scraping up the wood. All of the lights were on, but the overhead scoreboard was dark. Neil thought he heard music, but he wasn't sure until he'd made it to the inner court.
Fourteen teams meant there were two hundred and fifty athletes present, then another ninety or so bodies in dates and staff. Neil had never seen so many people on an Exy court before. There was still plenty of room to walk around between the tables, but Neil hated seeing a court repurposed like this.
Wymack opened the court door and shooed his Foxes on. A small group of coaches were waiting right inside the door. One picked up a megaphone and announced the Foxes' arrival. Conversations faltered around the court and chairs creaked as athletes turned to look. Wymack looked at Dan, jerked his chin in a silent command to keep moving, and peeled off to play nice with his colleagues. Abby stayed behind with him after one last pensive look at Kevin.
There was a seating arrangement on the court. Chairs had paper banners draped over the backs with school colors and mascots. Finding a short line of orange chairs didn't take a lot of looking. Spotting the Ravens was easier. The two teams were seated across from each other at the same table.
"Motherfucker," Dan said, low but with enough heat Neil had no problems picking up on it. He had to give her props, though. Dan didn't even slow on her way over to the table.
"Oh, how cliché," Andrew said, sounding almost delighted by this turn of events. "Maybe this will be fun after all. Come on, Kevin. Let's not keep them waiting."
All the blood had left Kevin's face, but he followed close behind Andrew.
Judging by Neil's quick headcount, the Ravens hadn't brought dates. They hadn't brought any color along, either. All twenty-two of them were dressed head-to-toe in black. The twenty men wore the same shirts and slacks, and the two women wore identical dresses. They even sat the exact same way, all with their right elbows on the table, all of them with their chins in their hands. Another team might look foolish going so far, but somehow the Ravens looked imposing.
"Riko," Dan said, pulling out the chair directly opposite him. "Dan Wilds."
Riko offered her his hand in the most condescending handshake Neil had ever seen. He kept his arm straight and his wrist loose, like a lord expecting a subject's kiss upon his knuckles. Neil hoped Dan would ignore it, but she slipped her hand into his and squeezed. Riko smiled when she let go.
"I know who you are," Riko said. "Who here doesn't? You're the woman who captains a Class I team. You've done admittedly well despite your disadvantages."
"What disadvantages?"
"Do you really want me to start listing them?" Riko asked. "This is only a two-day event, Hennessey."
Neil didn't understand, but Matt did, judging by his fierce, "Careful, Riko."
Dan touched Matt's arm to calm him down and pulled out her seat. The upperclassmen sat to one side of her, with Allison neatly tucked between Renee and Matt. Andrew's group stretched out to her right in the same order they'd been in on the bus. Neil was closer to Riko than he wanted to be, but having a couple bodies between them was a little comforting.
Unfortunately, Riko wasn't the only problem. The man to Riko's right stood up as soon as the Foxes were settled and walked behind the Ravens until he was across from Neil. Two fingers to the woman's shoulder got her out of her chair and she moved to the newly-emptied seat. The stranger sat across from Neil. As he did the Ravens fell out of their frozen poses, but they did so only to lean back as one in their chairs. The only one still sitting straight was Riko, and Neil's new dinner companion was leaning forward as he considered Neil.
Neil didn't recognize the man, but he didn't need to ask. The black three tattooed on his left cheekbone meant he could be no one but Jean Moreau. He was the Ravens' starting backliner and supposedly an old friend of Kevin's. There was nothing friendly on his face tonight.
"You look familiar," Jean said in heavily accented English.
"If you watched Kathy's show you saw me there," Neil said.
"Ah, you are right. That must be it. What was your name again? Alex? Stefan? Chris?"
For a moment Neil thought he'd fallen over. He felt the world lurch out from under him and take his stomach with it. A second or minute or eternity later he realized he hadn't moved at all. He wasn't even breathing.
In eight years on the run Neil had been through sixteen countries and twenty-two names. Hearing one name from Jean wouldn't mean anything. Hearing three wasn't a coincidence. It was a threat. Andrew had warned Neil Riko would unearth his trail no matter how well he and his mother buried it. Neil feared that eventuality, but he hadn't wanted to believe it. It sometimes took his father years to catch up with them. It was impossible to think Riko succeeded in just two weeks.
Coaxing air back into his lungs was the hardest thing Neil had ever done. It was a miracle his breath sounded so steady when his throat was closing up.
"It's Neil."
"Hmm?" Jean titled his head to one side as if that would help him see Neil better. "You don't look much like a Neil."
"Blame my mother," Neil said. "She named me."
"How is she doing, by the way?" Riko asked.
Neil looked into Riko's dark eyes and felt like he was dying. He might have answered, but Dan beat him to it with an annoyed, "Don't antagonize my team, Riko. This isn't the place for it."