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)
“Jeremy,” Laila pressed when he took too long to answer.
“Yeah.” Jeremy watched Jean obliterate cones at dizzying speed so he wouldn’t have to see Laila’s disappointed face. “I’m sure enough.”
“Peas in a pod,” Laila said wearily. “You’re both terrible liars.”
“He’s so bad at it,” Jeremy agreed, almost admiring. “Unexpected.”
“Is it?” Laila wondered. Jeremy sent her a curious look, but she thought it over before trying to put it into words. “Jean’s often said he’s not allowed to talk to outsiders, but what about the Ravens? They were trapped in the Nest, bound to each other and the dark almost twenty-four-seven. How do you keep secrets in a place like that?”
She shrugged, as if warning him not to take her too seriously, but continued, “We’re his team now, and you’re his partner. Maybe he can’t lie to us because we’re his people.”
Jeremy tested it out, liking the sound of that: “We’re his people.”
“It’s just a theory.”
“We’re his people,” Jeremy said again, and was heartened enough to return to his studies. He used a finger to follow along, then two when he kept zoning out. Laila was thumbing through something on her phone, but she still noticed how many times he flipped back to the first page. She grumbled under her breath and took the textbook from him.
“Listen,” she said, and read it aloud.
This didn’t make it any less awful or boring, but Jeremy appreciated Laila’s help too much to tune her out. Every other paragraph she’d stop and wait for him to summarize it before continuing. Bit by bit they conquered the section. Just as Jeremy thought he’d finally make it out of this chapter, Rhemann stepped into the inner court with a piece of paper in his hands. Laila trailed off at his approach and used her thumb as a bookmark.
“That time already, Coach?” Jeremy asked.
“Schedule’s in,” Rhemann said, sitting down on Laila’s other side. He folded his paper in half and tapped the corner against his palm as he thought. Nothing in their district would give Rhemann pause like this; Jeremy knew where the conversation was going before Rhemann finally said, “Arizona wants to get space reserved as soon as possible, so I need a banquet headcount by next Wednesday.”
“Oh,” Jeremy said. It was all he could manage.
Laila gave Jeremy’s arm a firm squeeze. “You don’t have to go.”
“You don’t.” Rhemann’s agreement was easy, like it wasn’t the big deal they all knew it was.
The banquets were a mandatory team event. For a player—a captain, even—to miss them three years straight was otherwise unheard-of in the NCAA. Jeremy’s saving grace was the Trojans’ reputation and the unwavering respect the ERC had for Rhemann. Jeremy knocked the heel of his shoe against the ground and looked toward the court. If he was hoping for inspiration, he came back emptyhanded. Every word he ought to say was lodged somewhere in his chest.
Rhemann figured out nothing was forthcoming and said, “It’s your senior year, so I thought I should at least ask.”
Laila followed Jeremy’s gaze and could guess where his thoughts were going. “Trust me and Cat to keep an eye on Jean for you. We’ll introduce him around to the teams and make sure they understand he’s one of ours now.”
Jeremy kicked a little harder, until the jarring felt like it would shake his kneecap out of alignment. “By Wednesday?”
“End of day Wednesday,” Rhemann confirmed, holding up his paper.
“I’ll let you know, Coach.” Jeremy took his book back from Laila, the schedule from Rhemann, and got to his feet. “Sorry, can you—?”
“I’ll get him home,” Laila promised, and Jeremy left without looking back.
It was an easy walk home so long as he refused to think about anything. He heard Cat’s strident voice down the hall as he eased the front door open. She and Cody had left practice on time so they could log into their game and do some kind of event. Jeremy closed the door as quietly as he could, pushed his shoes into their place off to the side, and went down the hall to the kitchen. Careful hands smoothed the schedule out, as if that tight crease could be undone, and Jeremy stuck it on the fridge to consider it.
One game at a time, he added their matches to the calendar. More than a few made him smile. The Trojans were historically dominant in their district, but he liked almost all of their opponents: some because they made the Trojans work for it, others because their players followed the Trojans’ lead and just tried to have a good time. The few bad apples were spaced out, and it was unfortunate that White Ridge would be the first team they faced, but Jeremy was satisfied overall.
“Hey,” Cat said from the doorway.
Jeremy glanced back. “I thought you were playing?”
“Cody’s connection is being a bit fussy, so they’re resetting their router.” She watched him put the pen away and toss the printout in the trash before getting to the point: “Laila texted me. What’re you thinking?”