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)
A vile understatement, but Jean refused to explain further. The Ravens mocked Lyle so mercilessly his freshman year he tried to stop talking altogether, but the coaches thrived on cruelty for cruelty’s sake. They’d called on him in team meetings at any given opportunity, then brutally punished him for his inevitable struggle. It reminded Jean of his early days in the Nest, when English was more noise than language. Maybe Sergio also understood, as he’d fought to be Lyle’s partner last fall after keeping his distance the year before.
Jean hadn’t heard Cat approach, but her subdued, “It’s creepy, isn’t it?” had Laila looking over her shoulder. Jeremy took advantage of her distraction to squeeze past at last, and Cat burrowed into Laila’s side with a troubled look on her face. “Where are the Ravens’ parents in all this madness?”
“Ravens do not have families,” Jean said.
“They do,” Cat insisted. “But fuck, they might as well not.”
Jeremy stared at her. “Cat, easy.”
Cat gave a sharp jerk of her hand. “Like, yes, they got their kids therapy this summer when they were falling apart, but then they sent them right back to Edgar Allan to try again. Now three more Ravens—four, if you include the freshman last week—are gone, and their parents are dead silent. Sorry,” she said, wincing at her word choice. “It’s just... How many Ravens have to die before their families finally step up?”
Laila wound an arm around Cat’s waist and gave her a slow squeeze. “I imagine,” she said slowly, with a glance at Jean for confirmation, “that the Ravens’ contracts with Edgar Allan are to blame. A school that can force its players to drop all contact with their families for five straight years must have strict contingencies and countermeasures in place. Either they can’t speak out, or they’ve been well compensated for their discretion. Maybe both. Jean?”
“Perhaps. I did not read the contract.” The silence that followed that statement was deep enough to drown in. Jean refused to believe they were surprised, and a hint of impatience bled into his words: “What it said was unimportant. I had no choice but to sign.” Property had no right to contest the terms of ownership, but Jean couldn’t say that. The best he had was, “I could not go home again.”
Cat’s expression turned immeasurably sad, but Jeremy found his voice first: “Jean, tell me you at least read the contract we sent you for USC.”
“Some of it,” Jean admitted. He shrugged indifference in the face of Jeremy’s obvious dismay. “It was very long and very boring. All I needed to know was if you included what I asked of you. It does not matter. What matters is that we will be late to practice if you do not hurry up and pack,” he added, shaking his bag of clothes in Laila’s direction. “I do not want to talk about the Ravens anymore today.”
She held her tongue, but he didn’t trust the look in her eyes. It was a little too knowing to be curiosity, and a little too prying to be sure, but he didn’t want to know what inspired it. It was enough that she turned away without further comment, and that Cat followed her across the apartment. Jean turned an expectant look on Jeremy, who mimed zipping his mouth closed, and sat down on his blanket to wait on the girls.
Despite rejecting the conversation, his thoughts stayed with Evermore. Sergio would know what was going on with Lyle, but Jean didn’t know his phone number. For a moment he considered calling Josiah Smalls for it, but the thought was enough to turn his stomach. Eventually Edgar Allan would spin a story for the news, and Cat would relay it to the group. Until then there was nothing Jean could do.
Except when Edgar Allan finally made a statement that afternoon, there was no mention of Lyle’s breakdown. Campus president Louis Andritch was more interested in introducing the Ravens’ new head coach: Joel Coer, a member of the Ravens’ original lineup and the team’s first captain. He’d dropped off the face of the planet after a seven-year tenure with the Ohio Thunder. That Edgar Allan had found him again wasn’t surprising, but Jean could only imagine what they promised to draw him out of retirement.
Jean’s statistics class had ended almost ten minutes ago, but Cody had seen the Coer headline when packing up to leave. Now they were the last two in the classroom, and Cody’s laptop was angled so both could read the screen. Cody finished first, of course, but they waited for Jean to sit back before asking, “Thoughts?”
“Undecided,” Jean admitted. “He has been away a long time, but he is a Raven. He will know how to guide them.”
“Hope so.” Cody tugged the laptop closer. “Let me email this to Cat real quick, and then we can go.”