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“Andrew, for the love of God, will you stop mixing up my files?” Wymack barked, no bite.
“Coach, I’m simply reorganizing them. You really need to work on your filing system, everything’s out of order,” Andrew grinned from his vantage point on the floor. He slipped a prospective dealer’s info sheet into the folder for a rejected backliner, then set the whole thing in the “to be reviewed” pile on the coffee table in front of him.
Kevin continued to pace and mutter in front of the tv in the lounge. The tap tap tap of his shoes across the shitty linoleum played a metronome in the back of Andrew’s mind: five steps across, pause, five steps back, repeat. They were wasting their time on this candidate - she was a crappy striker that wasn’t worth the gum on the bottom of Kevin’s shoe. Andrew had already looked through the files and knew who would be worthy of the coveted spot on the NCAA laughingstock’s roster, not that either of them would ask for his opinion. Their loss.
Andrew grabbed the stapler and began stapling a stack of high school score stats together all the way around–to make sure they didn’t get separated, of course.
“Wait, Coach, pause it.” Kevin demanded. The tv went silent and Kevin stopped pacing. “I think I know this kid.”
Andrew’s ears perked up. Kevin didn’t know people that weren’t Ravens. And if this kid’s prospective college tape was in the hands of David Wymack at Palmetto State University, of all places, they certainly weren’t a Raven.
“What do you mean you know him?” Coach asked.
Andrew looked up to the screen to see a frozen, slightly blurry image of a scrawny black-haired boy with his racquet in mid-swing. He was short, probably around Andrew’s own height, and looked like he hadn’t been fed a proper meal in ages. There wasn’t anything remarkable about him–he looked like any other dark haired, dark eyed kid you’d see on the street. All of his immediate intrigue drained at the sight, and Andrew was, once again, bored. He returned to his stapler.
“I think Riko and I played with him when we were kids. I think… but his hair is different,” Kevin was leaning too close to the screen, as if the picture would get clearer if he just looked harder. “What did you say his name was again?” Kevin asked, sounding uncertain.
“Neil Josten. 19. Millport, Arizona.”
“Josten? No, that wasn’t his name. His name was Wesley or something like that.” Kevin glared at the screen. “Well that doesn’t matter. I guess it’s not him, but he does have more potential than a lot of the others we’ve looked at today. His technique is shit, but he’s fast. If I can get my hands on him, I can whip him into something decent.”
High praise from the Son of Exy. Andrew considered how Kevin still seemed uncertain despite being proved wrong. Curious, but not interesting enough for Andrew to bother. If Kevin needed to tell him something, he would–or he wouldn’t, and hopefully it wouldn’t be a problem.
Coach and Kevin started discussing the semantics of travel to the great state of Arizona, and Andrew decided that he’d had enough exy for one day. He stood up from the ground, knocking a pile of files off of the table for good measure, and popped his back. He pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket as he turned toward the exit.
“Sorry you didn’t find your long lost friend from summer camp, Kevin. However, I have a very important appointment to make. Wouldn’t want to be late, you understand.”
With a dismissive wave, he tuned out any response to his departure and headed towards the parking lot.
***
Andrew was not very much looking forward to their trip to Arizona, no. He was not looking forward to an uncomfortable flight to try to drag some sorry nobody to their sorry team on the bottom rung of collegiate exy. But Kevin was going, so Andrew’s attendance was non-negotiable. Andrew kept his promises, fear of heights be damned.
Kevin was twitchy. He’d been dodgy for the last few days, looking at Andrew as if he wanted to tell him something, then looking away when Andrew caught his eye. It was extremely annoying.
Kevin’s leg bounced between them where they sat next to each other on the cramped plane. He glanced toward Andrew, again, and looked away. His anxiety did nothing for Andrew’s own dread at the impending takeoff.
“Spit it out, Day. Say it, Day. Say, Day, do you have something you want to tell me?” Andrew asked, getting as close to Kevin’s face as his own tolerance would allow.
Kevin reared back, dropping his eyes to the folder in his lap. He opened it and looked at Neil Josten’s photo on the info sheet for the 12th time in the last hour. He closed the folder again and tucked it into his bag. He sighed.
“I know I’m probably wrong, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve met Neil Josten before.”
“You’re the famous Number 2, aren’t you? Maybe an old fan? Did you sign an autograph for him?” Andrew couldn’t stop the smile that split his face. He leaned back into his own space.
Kevin shook his head. “He just looks like this kid that came to Evermore. I was 10 or so, I don’t remember a lot of the details but he played exy with me and Riko. The Master had said something about him being a potential new member of the future Perfect Court. Then… something happened, and I never saw him again.”
Withholding information, how interesting. Kevin usually had too much of a one-track mind to bother with lying.
“Now, now,” Andrew felt violent. “You wouldn’t be wasting my time with silly stories for no reason, would you? Get to the point.” His medicated grin hurt his cheeks.
“Like I said,” Kevin rushed, voice low. “I’m probably wrong. But he just looks so much like him, I can’t get it out of my head. If, on the small possibility that he is who I think he is, he could be… dangerous.”
All the synapses in Andrew’s brain were firing, danger danger danger. He grabbed the collar of Kevin’s jacket.
“Why,” Andrew ground out. “Would we be going to middle-of-nowhere Arizona to pick up someone you think could be dangerous?”
“We’re going because he’s decent at exy and we need him if we’re going to make it to championships this year.” Kevin had the audacity to look at Andrew as if he were slow, like this was a perfectly reasonable answer instead of a single-minded, self-destructive excuse.
“I can only do so much for you, Day. If you’re walking into the lion’s den, I will not follow you.” Now Andrew was lying. Tit for tat, he reasoned. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Kevin batted Andrew’s hand away from his jacket. “It’s not him, so it won’t matter. We need to focus on getting Neil to join the team.”
“Passengers, please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for takeoff,” the pilot’s tinny voice rang through the speakers in the plane.
Taking that as his dismissal from the conversation, Kevin leaned back in his seat and pulled a history textbook out of his bag. He slid his headphones over his ears and pointedly avoided looking at Andrew.
As the plane started rumbling down the runway, Andrew’s thoughts flit around in his mind, crashing into each other. Kevin was lying, Kevin was in danger, Kevin was stupid for getting them into a situation that might turn ugly.
The plane lifted off the ground, and Andrew’s fingers itched for his knives.
***
Millport, Arizona was flat. Flat and beige and unassuming.
Andrew could hardly keep still as they’d made the two-hour drive from Tuscon International Airport to Millport High School. Stretched out in the backseat of their rental car by himself, he’d pressed the window button to roll it down, then up, then down again. Coach and Kevin had just talked louder to be heard over the intermittent sound of the wind rushing through the window as they flew down the freeway.
They got to the school shortly after that night’s exy game started. Andrew was buzzing with energy thanks to the dose of his meds he’d taken in the car. He jogged up and down the mostly empty bleachers while Kevin and Coach watched with rapt attention, making comments and taking notes.
He stopped his jog and looked out at the shoddy, makeshift court with rollaway plexiglass. His eyes immediately tracked Neil Josten; striker, number 16, 5’3, 19 years old. No history of playing exy at any of his previous high schools in similarly boring, middle-of-nowhere towns. He was small, but a little taller than Andrew had initially guessed. Nothing about him screamed danger–his general look and demeanor gave off more of a charity case vibe–but Andrew of all people knew not to let looks deceive.
“What do you think, Kevin? Worth your time?” Coach asked.
“His footwork is awful, he can’t pass for shit, and he misses more shots on goal than he makes. But,” Kevin continued, “he plays like he has everything to lose. That’s what we need to even have a shot at making it past the deathmatches this year.”
“He plays like he’s being chased,” Andrew chimed in, and was steadily ignored.
He stared at the setting sun until he saw spots in his vision, blinked a few times, then did it again. Maybe if he did it enough times he’d go blind and he wouldn’t have to watch any more of this painful high school exy match. Kevin would probably have a stroke if Andrew blinded himself, and that alone was almost enough to convince him to try.
Coach Hernandez sought them out after the game; a sweaty, middle-aged man in a polo shirt and khaki pants. He beamed as he approached, looking between Coach Wymack and Kevin. He spared a passing glance to Andrew before returning his attention to the other two.
“Coach Wymack, great to finally meet you,” he said as he extended his hand to Coach.
“And same to you, Coach Hernandez.” Coach gestured toward Kevin. “This is Kevin Day and Andrew Minyard. Kevin’s been assistant coaching for me this past year but is returning to the court this upcoming season, and Andrew’s our goalie.”
“Oh Kevin Day, I know all about you, who doesn’t!” Coach Hernandez went to shake Kevin’s hand with his left hand, and Andrew stilled.
Before he could intervene, Kevin gracefully smiled and reached out with his right hand, redirecting the coach without him noticing anything amiss. Andrew’s shoulders relaxed and he tuned out the rest of the conversation, bouncing on his toes.
“Follow me and I’ll take you to Neil,” Coach Hernandez turned away and motioned them to follow.
The halls of Millport High couldn’t be more stereotypically dull if they’d tried. Andrew passed the time from the entrance of the school to the athletics department walking behind Kevin, trying to make him stumble by kicking his knee from behind. Kevin, much to Andrew’s dismay, just walked faster and kept his camera-ready smile on as he discussed the current professional exy season with Coach Hernandez.
“Neil’s in the locker room,” Coach Hernandez informed them as they entered the athletics lounge. “I didn’t tell him you were coming, or that I sent you his tape. He’s a modest kid, doesn’t like any kind of attention, but I think he could be really great if given the right opportunities. He… seems to maybe have some troubles at home. Never seen his parents come to any games, he says they travel a lot but I don’t know.”
“Well he’ll fit right in with the rest of my Foxes if that’s the case. I’ll go make the initial pitch,” Wymack said, nodding to Kevin. “Kevin, you wait out here as backup.”
Andrew grinned. This potentially dangerous part of Kevin’s past being ambushed by exy’s Number 2 himself. This could only go one of a handful of ways, most outcomes having Andrew ghosting his fingertips over his armbands. He wished he hadn’t had to leave his knives behind at the dorm.
Wymack turned his gaze to Andrew. “No funny business, Minyard.”
“Awh Coach, you wound me. I’d never hurt a fly.” Andrew’s smile made him grit his teeth so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he chipped one.
Coach Hernandez led the way for Wymack as they strode into the locker room, signing papers in hand. Kevin leaned against the entertainment center while Andrew stood sentry near the back of the room.
Minutes went by without incident. Andrew couldn’t hear whatever conversation was occurring between Coach and his latest victim, so he passed the time by rearranging notes and flyers pinned to the notice board in the lounge. The sound of someone running in their direction had Andrew on alert, and, not having his usual weapons on hand, he grabbed a spare exy racquet off the rack against the wall.
Neil Josten himself entered the room and stopped in his tracks when he saw Kevin perched against the tv.
The room was silent aside from Neil’s heavy breathing. Andrew could see Kevin’s face, going from uncertain to shock in a matter of seconds. Kevin moved away from the entertainment center and towards Neil, and Neil took a frantic step back.
“Nathaniel,” Kevin said, with certainty, as he took another step toward the kid.
“No,” Neil whispered, but Kevin didn’t seem to hear him.
“I knew it was you from your tape,” Kevin continued. “Why does it look like you haven’t played in years? By this time you should be much better than that pitiful performance you put on out there.”
Andrew watched the exchange from his spot near the back of the room. Neil–Nathaniel–hadn’t seemed to notice him, too focused on Kevin. He was moving backward slowly away from Kevin, not taking his eyes off of him.
“Did you look at the contract? Coach already signed off on recruiting you. You clearly need work, since you’ve wasted who knows how much time doing who knows what, but if you just do as I say–”
“Sorry,” Nathaniel interrupted. “But I don’t know who you’re talking about. My name is Neil.” Andrew caught him glance toward the door, planning his escape.
Lying! The little alarm bells in Andrew’s head were going off, and he gripped the handle of the racquet in his hands harder.
Kevin furrowed his brow, as if Nathaniel were being deliberately obtuse.
“Why are you acting like this? I remember you from Evermore, you were supposed to be Court with us. You played much better as a backliner, by the way. We need a striker so unfortunately we’ll have to work with you as you are now–”
Neil cut him off again. “Listen, Kevin, I know who you are–because everyone does–but I’m not who you think I am. And I don’t want to sign your contract, I’m done with exy now that the season’s over. I’m going home.”
Lying lying lying.
Nathaniel turned toward the door, which, unfortunately for him, was not going to work for Andrew. As Nathaniel tried to step away from Kevin, Andrew made his presence known by swinging his borrowed racquet directly into his gut.
He collapsed, gasping for air and clutching at his stomach. Andrew stepped between Nathaniel and the door and grinned at the boy on the floor.
“Nuh uh uh, little rabbit. I really don’t like liars, so let’s try that again. Once more, with feeling!” Andrew felt the venom in his teeth. The look in Nathaniel’s eyes was pure rage, which was oh, so charming.
Coach Wymack and Coach Hernandez chose that moment to reenter the lounge, and Andrew watched the anger in Nathaniel’s eyes fade back into the scared animal look he’d been wearing before. How easily he could lie without even opening his mouth.
“God damnit, Minyard. This is why we can’t have nice things.” Coach was furious.
“Oh, Coach,” Andrew smiled, “If he was nice, he wouldn’t be any use to us, would he?”
“He’s no use to us if you break him.”
“Kevin.” Nathaniel said suddenly. He had stood up, leaning against the wall and still clutching his stomach. “I’ll talk to Kevin, but everyone else has to leave.”
Kevin looked at the coaches. “I’ll handle this, Coach.”
“Just get him to sign the papers,” Wymack sighed, putting the folder on the table and heading toward the exit. Coach Hernandez excused himself to his office down the hall.
Nathaniel stared daggers at Andrew. “He needs to leave too.”
“Sorry, no can do.” Andrew smiled as he lazily passed the racquet between his hands. “I really don’t like to be left out of things, you see.”
"Fuck you," Nathaniel spat. "Leave."
“Andrew stays.” Kevin agreed.
Dropping his head into his hands, Nathaniel slid his fingers into his hair and yanked. He sighed, then looked back up at Kevin with dead eyes. So many stories those eyes could tell. Andrew was suddenly very interested in hearing them.
“You said you’d talk, Nathaniel, so talk. And no lies.” Andrew took his spot next to Kevin, eyes never leaving Nathaniel’s face.
“What do you want to know?” The look on Nathaniel’s face told Andrew that he was bracing himself for questions that he would not answer.
“Why won’t you sign with us?” Kevin demanded.
Nathaniel blinked at that, clearly caught off guard. Oh foolish Kevin and his exy-addled brain. Of all the answers Andrew wanted, that certainly was not one of them.
“I don’t want to play exy anymore.”
The look on Kevin’s face at that answer was pitiful at best, but the one on Nathaniel’s face was worse.
“Liar liar, pants on fire! I thought I specifically said ‘the truth’ this time.” Andrew brandished the exy racquet toward his face. “Try again.”
Nathaniel batted it out of his way. “I’m not lying. I don’t want to play anymore because I can’t. I can’t go to Palmetto.
“Why not? Did you get signed to another school? I’ll tell Coach to negotiate you out of the contract.”
“Jesus Christ, Kevin,” Nathaniel ran his hands over his face again. “I’m not signed anywhere. I’m not going to college anywhere. I’m leaving Millport.”
Now wasn’t that something? The string of different high schools in different podunk towns across the country, the way he seemed to mark all potential exits at any given time, the mysterious name change… the pieces were coming together in Andrew’s mind.
“Oh you’re going somewhere? Business or pleasure?” Andrew grinned, leaning forward into Nathaniel’s space. “Now, now… what are you running from?”
The fear that washed over Nathaniel’s face was confirmation enough that Andrew had hit the nail on the head.
“You’re running from something? Andrew, what do you mean by that?” Kevin, finally seeming to grasp that this situation was not about exy, actually looked concerned.
Closing his eyes, Nathaniel took a deep breath. He kept them closed as he addressed Kevin. “Kevin, you said you remember me from Evermore. I assume you remember everything that happened while I was there?”
Andrew watched the color drain from Kevin’s face. He swallowed hard before responding. “I remember you playing exy with me and Riko. And then in the tower… with your father…”
“Yes, exactly. My father,” Nathaniel opened his eyes, composure back. “Was going to kill me. My mother took me from Evermore and we ran. I can’t go to Palmetto because I have to keep running. You finding me here was a mistake.”
“Where is your father now?” Andrew was suddenly invested. Could this meeting put Kevin in the path of whatever danger Nathaniel’s father posed?
Nathaniel glared at him again. “He’s in prison, for now. He won’t be forever, though, so I need to go.”
Kevin’s face was white as he looked at Nathaniel. For a moment, no one spoke.
“Well, this has been terrible,” Nathaniel said, looking sharply at Andrew again. “But I need to go now. Kevin, good luck with the season.”
As Nathaniel turned to go, Kevin caught him by the sleeve.
“Stay.” Kevin said, almost whispering. “Come to Palmetto.”
“Kevin. Did you miss the part where I said I can’t go? I need to leave.” Nathaniel looked defeated. Tired.
A hard, determined look took over Kevin’s face. “Come to Palmetto. Play for me. Give me your game, and I’ll make it worth the risk. If you’re hiding in plain sight, surrounded by people, he can’t touch you. Andrew won’t let him.”
Well, wasn’t that something? Andrew could almost describe himself as shocked, both from Kevin’s sudden acquisition of a train of thought that had anything to do with someone other than himself, and for so boldly offering up Andrew as a sacrifice.
It was an amusing idea, sure. Kevin certainly seemed committed–granted, it ultimately had to do with exy so of course he was. The gears in Andrew’s mind were spinning at full speed. If he had to keep Kevin alive, Kevin needed something to focus on to stop him from running back to the Nest. If he was dead set on recruiting Nathaniel, if having a pet would keep him distracted enough to stay at Palmetto, the runaway might be a worthwhile investment.
Nathaniel’s face betrayed him. He looked wistful, as if he wanted so badly to believe Kevin but knew better. Andrew cleared his throat, grabbing both of their attention.
“Kevin, I’d like a word alone with our friend here. Go wait in the car.”
“But, Andrew–”
“I will not repeat myself, Day.”
Kevin opened his mouth as if to argue but thought better of it, huffing before leaving the lounge. Andrew locked his gaze on Nathaniel's now blank, guarded face.
“An interesting proposition, isn’t it? Kevin has such lofty ideas sometimes, I don’t know where he gets them.” Andrew said, teeth sharp.
“Interesting is one word for it. I don’t know what could make him think that you could do anything about my father.” Nathaniel’s muddy brown eyes were spiteful.
“Ah, you underestimate me, I think.” Andrew tapped his fingers over his armbands. “I have my own deal to propose.”
Nathaniel didn’t say anything but gestured for Andrew to continue.
“You come to Palmetto. You give Kevin your game, play your stupid little stickball and do whatever he says. In return, I’ll watch your back. For one year, I will protect you.”
“Why would you do that? Why do you want to help me?” The facade of indifference was gone from Nathaniel’s eyes, replaced by confusion.
“You’re mistaken. I don’t care about you at all, but I have my own reasons for wanting to keep Kevin busy.” It’s not as if Nathaniel needed to know anything about Riko or the Ravens. He just needed to play along with Kevin’s stupid plan.
“Why should I trust you? Why should I believe for a second that you’ll be there if someone comes after me?” There was a fire in Nathaniel’s eyes that Andrew hadn’t seen yet. It was a challenge. Convince me.
There was something hidden behind his sneer, and if Andrew were to venture a guess it might even be something as stupid as hope. Nathaniel, unbelievably, wanted this to be real. He, for whatever reason, was nearly willing to blow his cover to come to Palmetto and play exy. Another single-minded junkie jock. Of course Kevin wanted to sign him.
“You don’t have to trust me. I certainly don’t trust you. But Kevin thinks you’re worth his time, so don’t waste mine. Either you come to Palmetto or you don’t.”
Andrew watched as various emotions crossed Nathaniel’s face, from anger to disbelief and back to the blank look he tried so hard to maintain.
“You have one week to get your signing papers back to Wymack. If you don’t, I’ll consider you as good as dead. Choose wisely, little runaway.” Andrew smiled and pressed the head of the racquet under Nathaniel’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Maybe it’s time you stop being the rabbit.”
At that, he tossed the racquet to the side. He strode out of the locker room, loudly singing as he went. “Don’t be late! Be late! For a very important date!”
He pulled out a cigarette as he made his way through the halls back to the parking lot, lighting up as soon as he was out the door.
Kevin and Wymack were standing outside the rental car, in the middle of what appeared to be a heated discussion. At Andrew’s arrival, Kevin quickly rounded on him.
“Well?” Kevin demanded.
“Oh, ye of little faith.” Andrew said, blowing smoke into Kevin’s face. “He’ll come.”
With a look of smug determination, Kevin turned back toward the car. Before he could get too far, Andrew snagged the sleeve of his sweater.
“Not so fast, Day. I need you to tell me everything there is to know about your new pet.”