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Kendra levels Nelle with a look that says: you dumbass. “Look, Nelle. I get that you want to,” she gestures her hands around with no rhyme or reason, emphasizing her words. “do something special for Andrea's birthday, but. She's weird about her birthday, she'd honestly probably appreciate some ice cream. Trust me, I've tried doing things for her birthday in the past, and I almost ended up with a knife in my gut.”
Nelle doesn't say anything, taking a sip of her smoothie. She's heard stories about Andrea a few years ago—before Nelle was a part of their group—the medication she was forced to take as a way to “stabilize her", and she knows from others and Andrea that it didn't work. Now, off her meds, even years later, Andrea is still quietly coping with the aftermath of the drugs. In the time Nelle's been around, she's seen Andrea pull knives very rarely. And always for good reason.
“Look, if you want to try something special for her, I'm sure she'll appreciate the effort,” Kendra tries to correct. Nelle just shrugs. It's not that she wants to do something special for Andrea's birthday (which is less than a month away), but more-so that she wants Andrea to feel wanted and cared for the same way she makes Nelle feel when she rubs lotion on her scars or remembers that Nelle ate the last of the fruit and stops at the store on the way home. She isn't looking to do anything huge; she wants it to be huge in meaning.
“I'm not trying to take her on a trip or anything big like that,” Nelle says. Kendra straightens noticeably at that.
“Actually, that might not be a bad idea. Andrea likes driving. When she was on her medication, she wasn't allowed to drive at all, so she'd make Nichole drive us around. Sometimes when she wanted to piss me off, she'd drive around for about twenty minutes before taking me to night practice.” Nelle considers it for a minute, and also decides it's not a bad idea—if she can find a way to plan a road trip and get them both the time off work, she could do it. Money won't be an issue, as she still has a few million in her account from her father's business before he died.
“Thanks for the idea,” she shrugs. Kendra gives Nelle a look, and Nelle knows she's not being as nonchalant as she's pretending she's being. So, she decides to change the subject. “Do you need new shoes? I'll buy.” Kendra visibly perks up at that and stands from the chair. It scrapes so loud on the floor that multiple people shoot looks at the pair. Nelle doesn't care.
The ten minutes car ride is filled with Kendra's constant chatter about Exy stats that Nelle can't bring herself to listen to. Exy was such an important part of Nelle's past, until her father kidnapped her after one of the games. The FBI gave her two options after she confessed everything: quit Exy and live a low profile life, or leave everything behind and join witsec. She quit her team—some ragtag team in New Jersey—and in fact did leave everything behind, and moved to Palmetto. That's where she met the Foxes, and although she wasn't allowed to play Exy, Kendra still let her train at night. Now, out of college, they still train Exy and work out together sometimes, though their friendship isn’t solely based on Exy anymore.
“Look at these,” Kendra immediately grabs a bright pair of shoes when they enter the athletic store. “They're a good brand too, breathable and flexible.”
Nelle wrinkles her nose at the neon of the shoes and shakes her head. “No.” Kendra takes that and makes her way down a different aisle, pausing every once in a while. Nelle doesn't need new shoes, but she still looks. Maybe she can find a pair of the leggings Andrea seems to favor when working out. The rubbery smell of the store is giving Nelle a light headache, and the lights don't do much to help, but she doesn't pay any mind to it. “Kendra,” she calls from the next aisle.
A few seconds later, Kendra, holding four pairs of shoes, stands in front of Nelle. “Yeah?”
“Do you think I would have made Court if I didn’t have to quit Exy?” She doesn’t know where the thought came from, but the words are out before she can even process them. Kendra clearly isn’t expecting it either, because one of the pairs of shoes in her arms fall to the ground and her eyes widen slightly. “I mean, I know I wasn’t on your team until I moved here, but if I was still allowed to play, do you think I could have made it to Court?”
“Yes,” Kendra says, leaning over to pick up the shoes before setting all four pairs on one of the shelves next to them. “You were an awful player at first. Awful isn’t a strong enough word. But, you had passion. You were on a team not fit for you, and when you transferred here and trained during night practices with me, you were good. Even now, you’re a good player. If you were on a team, you would make Court.” It’s surprising how much Nelle wanted to hear that, so she doesn’t acknowledge the warmth that spreads at the knowledge that she is good enough for Kendra’s standards—most of the time, at least.
“Pick your shoes, so I can buy them. I have to get back soon and start planning this trip,” she sighs. Kendra accepts the change of subject and picks a black and white pair of shoes that look comfortable enough, and they head to the check-out. “Thank you,” Nelle says once they’re back in the car. Kendra doesn’t answer, but Nelle knows she understands.