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Summary
Even after the summer growth spurt, he’s still svelte. Perhaps someday, in his twenties, he’ll have some muscle to show for all of his training. But for now, Freminet is a few months shy of sweet sixteen. The only future he has to worry about is the immediate one: will the ball come toward him, and if it does, will he catch it?
A good older brother would want to preserve his sibling’s innocence. Why is it then, that Lyney has begun to notice the ways in which it slips away from Freminet, unbeknownst to him?
Like now, even. Freminet vaults himself toward a stray ball, stretching out his mitted hand. His white shirt is heavy and dark with sweat on the back and underarms. The ball sails into his hand like a miracle, or a seabird returning to its nest. Either or.
With college admissions looming, Lyney finds himself increasingly distracted by Freminet.