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“I want Magdalena.”
Andrew looked up from where he had been detaching, reattaching, detaching, reattaching, detaching, reattaching the velcro strap of his left glove. Renee had come to stand right in front of him on the bench he was seated at, her helmet tucked under her arm and her racquet still discarded from the water break that Wymack had cut short for the outcourt players. He had all but pushed them all out through the court walls again, probably for some last minute lecturing in preparation for their upcoming game that night.
A move had left the goalies alone behind by the home bench, to the delight or horror or however the Foxes deigned to interpret their relationship these days.
Andrew arched an eyebrow at her. He had assumed that Renee would have wanted to resume their previous conversation about the resurrection of mummies. This could prove to be infinitely more entertaining though. “Now, that’s an interesting turn of events. But why should I care?”
Renee offered him a knowing smile. “I know you don’t want her. But I would fight you for her if you did.”
Which meant that she was Renee’s now, even if Andrew would have had objections to it. He never won his fights against Renee.
Andrew hummed as he inspected his gloves, trying to feel the way the strengthening of them restricted his grip on the racquet through the buzz of his high. Just a few more hours and he would be crashing, crashing, crashing. “Starting a collection of strays?”
Andrew honestly didn’t care, but Renee was fun to needle for her motivations, if only to see how she would react to the provocation.
He would have guessed for her to smile kindly at him again before gently reprimanding him. Instead her eyes turned disgustingly soft as they flicked to the girl in question. She had a weak spot for the insensitive ones. “She needs a home. I want to try to give it to her.”
Andrew grinned. “Renee, Renee, Renee. Doesn’t that cross ever get heavy around your neck?”
This time she did smile sweetly before she tossed a ball she had been holding at him. “No.”
Andrew had already known the answer to that. He had asked before.
Inspecting the ball for a few moments, he had to start tossing it between his hands in a single balled juggle before the itch under his skin grew too unbearable. Following Andrew’s movements with attentive eyes, Renee asked, “Have you decided on Neil yet?”
Andrew smiled, because that was the only reaction he was capable of. “No.”
“Well, tell me as soon as you do,” Renee said with another smile before she turned to watch the flitting children in need of protection again.
Andrew had delayed this conversation the entire summer, and Renee had let him, because ‘Neil and Magdalena Josten’ hadn’t actually existed to the outside world up until today. They had been safe, or as relatively safe as people as them ever could be, in the Foxes’ little bubble at Palmetto. Now though, their names and faces were plastered on anything and everything even remotely related to Exy, and now they could really start getting themselves into trouble.
Figured that Renee was keen to finally sort their alignments out.
“You really want that collection, don’t you?”
Renee’s eyes flicked back to him again. She was quiet for a few moments, her lips pursed.
“I think you’re curious,” she eventually said. She met his stare with a level gaze of her own, and it was a dare, if only her sweet natured version of the concept.
Renee understood him better than anyone, save perhaps Bee. That was why she knew better than to accuse him of wanting Neil. Because that he certainly did not. He didn’t want anything.
But being accused of having his interest grabbed was almost as affronting, because it was too close to a truth he wasn’t willing to admit. But Andrew never backed down from a challenge, and so he held Renee’s steady gaze.
“He’s interesting,” he conceded, because he wasn’t in the business of lying. Especially not to Renee. “But we’ll see for how long.”
Renee hummed quietly in response, her eyes turning pensive. Andrew, on his hand, stretched as he pushed up from the bench, his spine popping around his cooling muscles, restless energy jittering just below his skin, begging to finally be put to use. Wymack was slowly wrapping up his little lecture of the outcourters, and Andrew would have bet his entire scholarship that he planned on letting them try take out their frustration on their goalies.
More fool of them then.
Tossing the ball back at Renee, the thing thumped softly against her chest armor before she cradled it with an amused expression. “Either way, it doesn’t matter,” he said with another grin, feeling his high tugging, tugging, tugging, always tugging, at his control. “Our little strays won’t stay around for much longer.”
Andrew wasn’t one to tell others secrets, but Renee had recognized the same harried look in the small rabbits’ eyes that he had. Runaways.
“Well,” Renee said softly, ever patient, ever optimistic, as she went to pick up her racquet again. “Then I’ll just have to make do with the time I have, won’t I?”
Andrew laughed as he led their way out onto the court again.