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    Summary

    Jean feels the urge to bite his hand to still the shaking. A particularly rough game against Arizona’s Wildcats had left Jean with a broken wrist and bruised hips, and off the court much too long for his comfort. Here he sits, on the Trojans bench, barely holding back the restlessness that crawls along his arms and legs. He has to hold back the urge to move, either by shaking his leg or simply pacing in the small space next to the side court benches.

    “Jean? Are you there?” Brown eyes, like soil in a garden.

    Jeremy is looking at him, a concerned pinch in his brows and a hand hovering out, as if he wants to put a comforting palm on Jean’s knee but can’t—won’t—close the distance until Jean says.

    “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong,” Jeremy was still staring at Jean.

    Language:
    English
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