Page 19

J eremy

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M onday morning practice was as tense and miserable as Jeremy knew it would be, and that was despite him spending all of Saturday and Sunday arguing with his teammates via text. This was the second time Jean had been attacked at the Gold Court by a former teammate, and the Trojans were justifiably riled up about it. That Zane had put his hands on Jean and gone home again with no repercussions whatsoever was unforgivable; that Ingrid s story made it sound like a two-sided rivalry was worse.

Jeremy understood his teammates anger, and his own hurt was a lingering weight in his heart, but he d promised to follow Jean s lead. He didn t have to like it or agree with it; within a few days it was obvious Jean knew what he was doing. He d been taking slow and careful steps away from the Ravens all summer, but for him to finally and emphatically reject everything they stood for was a tremendous leap toward healing at last.

This was the most settled Jeremy had ever seen him, though it took time to pinpoint the change: Jean was finally treating the Trojans like his team instead of the team he d been assigned to. It was a tiny but critical shift in his outlook and demeanor. Jeremy wouldn t ever forgive Zane, but for now he would let sleeping dogs lie.

It helped that the press had bigger fish to fry this week. Due to Rogeson s death, the Ravens had been excused from the southern fall banquet on Saturday. Their first public appearance of the season was now their upcoming match against the Foxes. Both Edgar Allan and Palmetto State had campus events all week to hype up their respective student bodies, and Wymack invited the press to his locker room on Tuesday afternoon.

Because of practice, Jeremy had to wait until he was back home before he could watch the video, but Jean s private lessons delayed his friends almost as long. Jeremy messaged Laila when he was home and settled at his laptop, and she let him know when they d gathered around Cat s computer. It wasn t as fun as being there with them, but it made him feel a little closer as he finally hit Play.

The Foxes freshmen went first, and Jeremy listened with no little exhaustion as they wrote the Ravens off as overhyped has-beens. It was a bold stance to take, seeing how long the Ravens had been dominant and how little of NCAA Exy these kids had experienced so far. The upperclassmen were only marginally better, but Jeremy would have been surprised by civility. The Foxes had been kicked around for too many years, the butt of a thousand cruel jokes, and had learned years ago to bite back any chance they got.

They were called up in pairs, and it was inevitable that Kevin and Neil would be thrown together for their bit. Kevin couldn t be rude with a camera in his face, but Jeremy could read between the lines: Kevin had no interest in the rematch whatsoever. Edgar Allan was a shattered ghost of its former self. Without the perfect Court or Coach Moriyama on the line, the team had no challenge or value to him anymore. Kevin gamely did his best to keep Neil out of the conversation, not trusting his vice-captain to speak, but the interviewer was persistent.

What about you? the man asked as he stuck his microphone in Neil s face a third time. Are you looking forward to the match?

Sure, Neil said. If they bother to show up this week.

After a few awkward moments, the reporter joked, That s it? Last year you had such strong opinions about the Ravens.

Most were about their coach and Riko, but those two aren t a problem anymore. Neil shrugged indifference. The way he was jostled made Jeremy think Kevin kicked him where the camera couldn t see it. Neil returned Kevin s withering look with an unimpressed stare and only said, If you d ever be honest when people ask you about them, I wouldn t have to be.

Says the least honest man I know, Kevin said.

They don t deserve kindness from me after everything they ve put us through, Neil insisted. I hope they lose every game this season, and I ll say it as many times as someone asks me. They don t belong on the court until everyone Coach Moriyama trained has been cleared out of there. Edgar Allan should have farmed them out to other schools and dismantled the entire program, if you ask me.

He didn t ask you, Kevin said. Stay on topic.

The topic was the Ravens, was Neil s unrepentant response.

Speaking of misplaced Ravens, I assume you watched USC s match last Friday, the reporter said, tipping his microphone back toward Kevin. It worked like a charm: Kevin forgot all about his contentious teammate in favor of Trojan gossip. Setting aside how the night supposedly ended, what a brilliant start for your favorite team.

Supposedly, Jeremy echoed, and got the same indignant message from Cat a few seconds later.

A little unfortunate for me, the reporter admitted with a laugh. My coworkers and I had an informal bet that Moreau would get in at least one brawl. I thought for sure we would see the Trojans first red card.

Maybe he expected Kevin to agree with him, but Kevin affected confusion. The USC Trojans don t fight on the court. It s their most controversial and well-known statistic. I m sure you know that.

Yes, but- The reporter floundered for a moment. It being Moreau s first game with such restrictions, I would have expected him to fall back on old habits. Impressive that he didn t, he added when it was obvious Kevin was not going to help him out. A fantastic debut all around, wouldn t you say?

Sure, Neil said, with a smile that had Jeremy leaning away from his computer. Glad to see his ribs healed up without any lingering consequences for anyone involved. He grimaced when Kevin kicked him again. Kevin s face looked carved from stone as he stared down at his short teammate, but he didn t have to say anything. Neil let it go with an easy, Anyway, we re over our time and need to get back to the court.

You mentioned Moreau s ribs? the interviewer pressed.

Renee and Andrew are last, right? Neil asked as he stood.

Pin-pon , Jeremy s phone went, and Jeremy read Laila s, Forever an instigator.

Jeremy started typing out a response, but the interviewer tried a last ditch, Kevin, would you care to explain that comment? and Kevin went still.

Jeremy set his phone aside to watch the way Kevin and Neil stared each other down. That Kevin gave ground first was unexpected, but at last Kevin tilted his left hand where he could see his scars. He rubbed idly at the pale skin for a few moments, then flicked a steady look at the off-screen interviewer.

With all due respect, there is no point, he said. You will never take anyone s word over theirs, so you are best off asking the Ravens for the truth. But good luck: they do not know how to tell it unless one has been fed to them. He motioned for Neil to get a move on. This time Neil went without argument, starting for the door without another look at the interviewer. Kevin turned after him with, Thank you for your time. We will send you the next pair.

Jeremy belatedly remembered his phone. Scale of one to ten, how angry is Jean?

And I quote, Rancid menace , Laila answered a few seconds later. Before Jeremy could worry, she sent a few more texts: He left the room as soon as Kevin sicced the reporter on the Ravens. Cat went after him. Going to pause here until they get back, though I m not sure Jean will watch the rest. What about you?

Jeremy glanced at his screen. Andrew Minyard and Renee Walker were now settled in front of the camera, Renee with a small smile and Andrew looking bored into the distance. Jeremy paused the clip to study the Foxes goalkeepers. Andrew was technically the greater threat on the court, but Jeremy s gaze lingered on Renee. Before Friday s short phone call, his only interaction with her was the handshake at last year s semifinals, but he knew she was important to Jean. They texted on a regular basis, and Kevin had recognized her cross on sight when he saw Jean wearing it.

She looked sweet enough, but Jeremy knew what sort of people Coach Wymack recruited for his line. More than that he remembered Jean saying Renee was the one who d taken him from Edgar Allan after Riko beat Jean within an inch of his life. Jeremy wasn t sure how literally he meant it, but he finally hit play to hear her answers.

She existed in jarring opposition to her teammates, reflecting on the upcoming match with caution and a gentle concern for the Ravens questionable wellbeing. Since Andrew refused to say a word, no matter how often the interviewer tried to include him, she was forced to handle the entire bit with unflagging patience.

One last thing, before you go, the reporter said, though I m not sure you can help me with it. Neil mentioned a rumor we haven t heard yet, that Jean might have sustained additional injuries last spring that weren t reported. Perhaps he s said the same to you? Renee s smile faded, and she studied the man with serene calm. The reporter allowed her a few seconds to respond before trying, We re just trying to sort out where this gossip might be stemming from.

Renee chose her side with an easy, Insider knowledge. Jean spent time with us before moving to California, but that is as much as I can tell you. Even if it wasn t inappropriate for me to discuss Jean s injuries without his consent, we promised President Andritch our discretion on the matter. Jeremy didn t hear what Andrew said, but Renee laughed. He tried replaying the part twice with the volume turned up, but Andrew s muttered interjection was for Renee s ears only. Jeremy gave up and let it play.

Renee smiled at the reporter, but this time it didn t reach her eyes. I m sorry, but our hands are tied. You will have to ask Edgar Allan for the rest of the story.

They are notoriously hard to get a comment from, the reporter said dryly.

Sometimes they are, she agreed. Perhaps you are trying the wrong Ravens.

It was obvious he wouldn t get better out of her, so he wrapped it up with quick thanks and sent the pair on their way. The last few minutes of the video cut back to the studio, where two men dissected the Foxes answers. Jeremy didn t need to listen to the wrap up, so he closed the video and pushed his laptop to the back corner of his desk.

A few minutes later he picked his phone up and started a new message to Laila: She s pretty, right? He studied it for a moment, thumb hovering the button that would send it, and erased the last bit. A second later he deleted the rest. Cat had already weighed in on Renee s favorable looks, and it was irrelevant either way. Saying such a thing unprompted would only get Laila thinking, and Jeremy didn t want her asking questions when he genuinely didn t mean anything by it in the first place.

He was saved by a knock, and he looked over to see William in his bedroom doorway. Jeremy checked the time and said, Late for you to be working, isn t it?

Just wrapping up a few items before I call it a night.

William followed Jeremy s beckon into the room and offered a manila envelope. This is the preliminary list of French instructors who speak with the Marseille accent. The most experienced is overseas and arranges lessons over... Skype? William leaned forward to check his notes over Jeremy s shoulder. The one in San Francisco has eight years of experience and is also willing to teach you over the phone.

The last has no teaching experience but is both local and a native speaker, if you prefer a more informal setting face-to-face. I ve attached copies of their profiles and, for the certified instructors, select reviews from other students. If none of them are to your satisfaction I will continue the search.

No, this is great, thank you, Jeremy said, lingering over the last. Chances of Mom challenging the charges when she sees Leslie s spreadsheet?

William gave it some thought before saying, Middling. For obvious reasons she would prefer you study Latin again. He answered Jeremy s grimace with a wan smile that was quick to fade. William studied him with such a serious look Jeremy felt eight years old again. He realized too late he was fidgeting with the folder and forced himself to stillness. French has its uses and appeal of course, but this is very specific dialect. It is public knowledge your newest teammate hails from Marseille. You know your mother does not approve of him.

She doesn t even know him. She s been taken in by a smear campaign.

You deny his criminal affiliations, then, William said.

No, Jeremy admitted, but why is he responsible for his parents crimes? He s been dealt a rotten hand in life, but he s made it this far because he refuses to give up. Every single day he puts in the work to get better and be better, and no one seems to care because healing journeys don t sell as many newspapers.

The bland look on William s face said he was pitching his argument to the wrong person; William himself had no strong opinion on Jean either way. Jeremy subsided with a quiet sigh and said, Did you know he barely knew English when he enrolled at Edgar Allan? Sounds like it was such a last-minute decision he had no time to really prepare. But they wouldn t let him speak French because no one could understand it. I just thought that... He gestured helplessly at the folder. I want to show him we re as committed to him as he is to us.

William folded his arms across his chest as he thought it over. Mathilda will find out you are studying French, and she will guess what inspired you, but she needn t know the finer points. I can make a strong enough case in your favor to stay her hand, perhaps: a new interest in international law or immigration studies, with intent to branch into additional languages down the line as your career requires.

It was a bit weak, but Jeremy knew it would work. Nan had hired William over twenty years ago at the recommendation of her personal assistant, and he d been with the family ever since. Mathilda was his employer now that Nan was gone, but she trusted and respected William more than she did most of her supposed friends. The unguarded fondness that slipped out of her sometimes when she spoke with him was warmer than anything she directed toward her own children.

It was a sour thought to have when William was trying so hard to help him, so Jeremy stamped it down as quickly as he could. I don t want to make you choose sides.

Maybe some of that bitterness showed, because William treated him to a long look. At length all he said was, If you still have to ask whose side I am on, you have not been paying enough attention. Jeremy was forced to look away, jaw working on a grief he didn t dare acknowledge or voice. William stepped back, giving him space to breathe. If there is nothing else, I will retire for the night.

Nothing else, thank you, Jeremy said, tugging his folder closer so he wouldn t have to face the man. Get some rest for once.

He waited until he heard William s footsteps on the stairs before spreading out the profiles William compiled for him. The first and second were the obvious better choices, but Jeremy couldn t deny the appeal of less-structured classes in person. Fitting them into his messy schedule would be a headache, but his mother s approval might be the tipping point. She d excuse a late arrival home from practice if she knew he was meeting with a tutor.

It was early to get his hopes up, but Jeremy pushed his homework aside in drafting a letter of introduction. He d hope for the best and adjust to the worst; it was all he knew to do when it came to family.

-

I t took reporters only a few hours to decipher what Renee might have meant by the wrong Ravens , and the ensuing forty-eight hours were chaotic and angry. Edgar Allan had ensured their current lineup was untouchable, and the Ravens classmates would happily close ranks to protect their fallen stars, but there were years worth of graduates scattered around the United States and abroad who had fewer safeguards in place.

Jeremy ought to be impressed with Renee s gentle scheming, but he watched each disastrous and short-lived run-in with a growing sense of dread. It was glaringly obvious that the Ravens had serious issues, even so many years out from Evermore. It wasn t just the widespread reluctance to speak to the press, or how soundly they refused to speak about Coach Moriyama and the Nest. Half of the Ravens who d graduated and signed to professional teams were already on their way out of the league. The average Raven career seemed to last only five years.

Looking at them one or two at a time, the sustained injuries and chronic pain were simply unfortunate, but parading so many uncooperative Ravens in front of a camera back-to-back made it glaringly obvious. Years of sixteen-hour days, with so many few days to rest, coupled with their hideous concept of contrition, had shattered these players on a bone-deep level. Jeremy wondered why it took anyone this long to notice-then wondered if people simply didn t care. While they could still play, the Ravens burned bright and ferocious, and there were always so many players desperate to replace them when they sputtered to ash.

Jeremy feared for Jean s long-term health, but he feared for Kevin s more. That evening he messaged Kevin an unprompted, You have to stop night practices.

When Kevin didn t answer, Jeremy tried calling. It took six tries before Kevin finally answered, and Kevin had absolutely no interest in Jeremy s warnings or concern. He d said earlier this summer that he practiced with Neil and Andrew, but Jeremy didn t have their numbers. Jeremy had a feeling Andrew would be a dead end, which left only one other choice. Jean was hesitant to share Neil s contact information with him, even after Jeremy explained himself, but Jean could only refuse him so long. Jeremy wasn t entirely surprised that Neil didn t answer, but at least he d tried. He set aside his phone with a weary sigh and turned back to his homework in a dour mood.

At least the morning brought an effective distraction, as the Trojans had an away game against Utah. It was eleven hours to Salt Lake City without accounting for a lunch break, and the Utes were a time zone ahead. The Trojans had to be on Utah s campus at least an hour before a six-thirty serve, which meant leaving Los Angeles no later than a quarter to four in the morning. When Jeremy s alarm went off at three o clock on Friday, only three hours after he d finished his homework, he nearly bludgeoned it with his pillow.

Since the Foxes had agitated the Ravens this week and Laila s security detail was released back to other sites, Jeremy drove his friends over to the stadium and parked his car there for the day. Lisinski was asleep on the strikers bench, never mind that Tony and Bobby were making a serious racket getting the Trojans gear ready for the trip. Jeremy flagged a few of the freshmen down to roll the stick racks out to the parking lot as each was finished. Jimenez split everyone else up onto their rows in the locker room so he could take roll easier. Whichever line was fully present first got to board first. Unsurprisingly the goalkeepers won, as there were only four to account for, and the five dealers were close behind them.

The charter bus came with a team of two drivers who would switch out halfway through and who fortunately looked significantly more awake than the athletes filing onboard. There were fourteen rows of seats, though the first four rows were reserved. Each coach got a pair of seats, and the row ahead of Rhemann and Lisinski was reserved for the drivers. Tony, Bobby, and Angie had the row right behind them, and the Trojans were free to spread out as they liked in the rest.

With only forty open seats and twenty-nine bodies, it was inevitable that some of them had to share. The usual suspects piled in together, but Jeremy hesitated when he spotted Tanner standing beside Lucas s seat. Lucas and Haoyu had been inseparable their freshman year, but Travis s arrival last year meant someone had to be the odd man out. Lucas had drifted to the outskirts and sat alone ever since. He wouldn t agree to Tanner s intrusion-except he did after only a brief argument against it. Maybe he was just too tired to fight.

All set? Rhemann asked at his back.

Set, Jeremy agreed as he dropped into his seat.

Rhemann slipped past him to finish his headcount. He did it twice: once on his way to the rear, then on his way back, and he gave the driver an okay to get on the road. Jeremy closed his eyes as the bus pulled away from the stadium, and he was asleep before they even turned onto the 10.

-

T he Trojans made good time, pulling into Salt Lake City just before five. It was earlier than the Utes perhaps wanted to host them, but since the Fox and Raven game started at seven eastern, USC was more than happy to stick to their locker room. Warmups and a game of their own would keep the Trojans from watching all of it, but Jeremy might catch most of the first half. He was off the bus right behind the coaches and had the locker room TVs on as soon as he could find them. Two were already set to the right station. Jeremy turned the third off rather than mess with it and stood silent and still as the starting lineups were called to the court.

Despite the Foxes bold words on Tuesday, Wymack was taking no chances. His freshmen were sidelined tonight, and he filled the court with his strongest players: Kevin and Neil on offense, captain Danielle Wilds as starting dealer, and backliners Matthew Boyd and Aaron Minyard in the rear. Andrew Minyard was the last on, and he propped his racquet to his shoulder as he nonchalantly took his spot in goal.

Jeremy was distantly aware of the Trojans filling in the space around him. The only one who mattered right now was Jean, who was staring at the TV with a tense look on his face. Jeremy could only imagine what was going through his head. He d rejected the Ravens way of doing things, but his relationship with the violent team was a complicated mess that would likely take years to untangle. Jeremy knew he d watched their championship games, but for most of that time he d still been a Raven in hiding. Now they were strangers to him, an obstacle Kevin and Neil needed to crush.

He almost asked, but Jean beat him to speaking with a flat, She is not captain.

Wilds? Cat asked.

Lane, Laila guessed. To Jean she asked, Unqualified?

It doesn t matter how talented she is, Jean said. The master would have never approved-

Jean cut himself off a heartbeat too late. Jeremy was slow to realize his misstep, but then Pat demanded, The what? in a tone that promised a reckoning. Jeremy flicked a quick look from him to Jean, who was now standing ramrod straight as he stared at the TV. His lips were bloodless where he was shoving them hard into his teeth.

If it was just Pat around, Jeremy could probably convince him to back down, but by now at least half of the team had gathered to watch the game. The locker room was a sea of bewildered and baffled faces.

I misheard you, Xavier said, looking from Jean to Jeremy. The lack of surprise on Jeremy s face did nothing to improve his mood, and Xavier swung a dark gaze back to Jean. For a few moments the only sound in the locker room was the noise of the game now underway on the screen, and then Xavier asked, You want to explain that to us?

The look on Jean s face said he very much did not, but Jean didn t have it in him to refuse a vice-captain s direct questions. Cat took one look at him and swooped in with the best and worst distraction she could think of: You think that s creepy, wait until you hear Kevin say it.

Catalina . That horrified protest was from Jean.

Nah, Derek started, but the rest was forgotten when the announcers started yelling.

Jeremy glanced back at the TV and saw Neil half-crumpled on the court floor. Lane swung at him with her racquet, and Neil managed to kick her leg out from under her just in time. She fell on him as she went down, jamming her racquet sideways across his throat with every intention of breaking his neck. Neil scrabbled at it with his gloved hands, but he couldn t seem to get an edge on her. Whatever blow first knocked him down had taken most of the fight out of him.

Referees pulled the doors open, but the Foxes were faster and closer-and so were the Ravens. Kevin was only two steps toward Neil when Dawson threw his racquet aside and jumped him. Kevin wasn t expecting the sudden weight and was dragged to his knees. He got some breathing room with a fierce elbow to Dawson s helmet, and somehow he managed to wriggle around so he was facing the Raven backliner.

It was a vicious fight, but Kevin had more at stake: his injury was healed, but the lingering fear of damaging his hand again was evident in how often he tilted his left side away from Dawson. Dawson had no such restrictions and was keen to press the advantage. He managed to slam the back of Kevin s head down against the court floor, and then Wilds barreled out of nowhere to throw him off to one side. Kevin didn t stick around to help her but scrambled to his feet and ran for Neil.

The referees reached Neil first, and it took two of them to haul Lane off him. Neil didn t try to get up but rolled weakly onto his side and tucked into an agonized ball. Jean put both hands flat to the TV screen, muttering in jagged French. Cat dragged him back some so she could see what was going on past him, but Jean didn t seem to notice.

The camera swung briefly to the Home court, where the Ravens coaches were trying their level best to pry their angry strikers off of Boyd and Aaron Minyard. Andrew took longer to spot until Jeremy realized he was with Wymack. Jeremy didn t see his racquet anywhere; maybe it d gotten lost in whatever scuffle left him so visibly unsteady on his feet. Wymack had a hand on his jersey, either to slow him down or hold him up, and Andrew was practically dragging him across the court toward Kevin and Neil. He held one arm tight to his side as he moved, and the limp way his hand dangled by his hip chilled Jeremy s blood.

The crowd and announcers had sunk to horrified silence as the line brawl escalated. Jeremy heard Lane s strident voice echoing off the walls but couldn t make out anything she said. Andrew caught up with her right as she broke free of the referees, and he didn t even hesitate. She was halfway to Neil when Andrew got her in a one-armed chokehold and dragged her to the ground.

Both players were immediately buried beneath Wymack and the referees. Jeremy jerked his numb stare back to Kevin, who was on his knees at Neil s side. The Foxes team nurse was hunched over Neil as she checked on him, and the tension in her expression was not at all reassuring.

An unfamiliar man dressed head-to-toe in black crossed the court to crouch at Kevin s side, and Jean s reaction was immediate and visceral. He launched at the TV again, slamming both hands against it to throw it into the wall behind it. This time Jeremy caught hold of him to yank him back, and the white fury on Jean s face set his heart tripping.

Who is that? Jeremy asked.

Jean didn t have to say anything; Rhemann recognized the other man on sight and spoke up from his spot on the outskirts: The Ravens head nurse, Josiah Smalls. Jeremy glanced his way in time to see the sidelong look Rhemann sent Jean. Rhemann said nothing else, and Jean didn t volunteer a better explanation.

Wilds and Dawson were still trying to fight each other despite the officials bodily separating them. Boyd caught up with them and somehow managed to pry Wilds loose. One referee followed close behind them, pointing toward the court door, but Boyd dragged his captain straight to Kevin and Neil. Abby Winfield was still trying and failing to get a satisfactory response from Neil. Aaron Minyard hovered nearby for a minute before prying his own helmet off and spitting blood off to one side. He gave Kevin s thigh a light kick before starting for the court door, and a few moments later Kevin got up and followed.

Security finally entered the court, sensing more bodies were needed to restore order. One by one the Foxes were forced off the court, until the only two left were Neil and Andrew. At last Wymack emerged from the dogpile with Andrew in a chokehold of his own, and he held fast until the referees hauled a limp Lane toward the Away court door. Smalls followed them at an unhurried pace, and only when the last Raven was gone did Wymack drop Andrew beside Neil. Jeremy realized too late the announcers were speaking. He wondered when they d started; nothing they said had penetrated his hazy shock.

Maybe if he was listening, the abrupt jump to a replay wouldn t have startled him as much, but suddenly he was treated to every view of the brawl in quick succession. It had started with the Ravens strikers just thirty seconds into the half. Both Winter and Williams charged the goal, one presumably to score from just outside the line and the other on hand for a rebound, but Winter didn t wait for his partner to take a shot. He swung his racquet like a baseball bat at Andrew s chest the moment Andrew turned away from him.

Jeremy assumed one of the backliners yelled a panicked warning, because somehow Andrew turned his stick just in time to eat the blow. The impact was still enough to throw him into his goal, and he teetered when he hit the wall. That he lost his balance probably saved his life-Williams took a swing at his head, but Andrew wasn t where he d been a moment ago. The racquet glanced off Andrew s helmet and hit his shoulder hard enough to drive him to his knees. Andrew s twin and Boyd were on the strikers a heartbeat later, fists flying. The Ravens dealer rushed in to help, but Boyd had no problems taking on a second body. Wilds took one step that way before turning and running for Kevin instead.

Neil was out near half-court still from serve, but he started for Andrew as soon as the fight started. A second of distraction was all Lane needed, and she aimed for his side with a vicious swing. He was faster than she was expecting, and she only managed to clip him. The force behind her blow was still enough to send him stumbling. He fell hard, one gloved hand on his side and the other trying in vain to keep his face from hitting the floor. Jeremy had seen the fight from there, but knowing how it started and how quickly it escalated made the whole thing worse. At his side, Jean had both hands clasped over his own ribcage in horror.

The cameras returned to a live feed after Wilds tackled Dawson to the floor. Someone had finally gotten Neil to his feet, and Andrew was somehow keeping him there. Winfield and Wymack bracketed the two as they finally limped toward the door. A camera in the inner court had a better shot of their faces as they reached the door, and the tight look on Neil s face was all pain. Only the Foxes freshmen were still at the bench; the rest of the Foxes were presumably in the locker room. Winfield would have her hands full trying to put them back together again on her own.

A three-man crew entered the court to clean up the blood. The distant echo of an amplified voice was the stadium s announcer, but Jeremy couldn t understand a word. A few moments later the cameras cut to Rossi on the sidelines where he was surrounded by security and referees. He wore the look of a man who knew his career was over. It didn t make Jeremy feel any better to know he d had nothing to do with this, and he couldn t spare energy yet to pity him. Rossi had had all summer to realize the Ravens weren t ready.

It s a good thing Josten s so short, Cody said, with an attempt at humor that fell flat. If he was any taller, Lane s racquet would ve caught him right in the kidneys. Looked to me like his armor caught most of her swing.

Armor didn t save Jean, Lucas said. It won t have saved Josten, not entirely.

Jeremy was lost until he remembered how adamantly Jean attributed his grievous injuries to a rough scrimmage. Cat and Laila were the only other two here who knew who d really cracked Jean s ribs last spring. Jeremy imagined Riko taking a swing at Jean the way Jasmine Lane swung at Neil, and it pulled his chest so tight he thought he d tear something.

Getting word from tonight s officials, one of the sportscasters said, and the broadcast moved to where she and her colleague were sitting at a desk. She was scribbling notes as she wrote, but she used her free hand to track her progress down the page as she read aloud. The game has been postponed, but no date and time has been determined yet. The following penalties have been assessed for tonight s misconduct. For the Foxes: yellow cards to backliners Matthew Boyd and Aaron Minyard. Red card to captain Danielle Wilds. Red card and a five-game suspension to goalkeeper Andrew Minyard. For the Ravens: red cards to the entire starting lineup.

She started down the list of Raven names, but Jeremy barely heard her over the new chaos in the locker room.

A suspension? Sebastian echoed. You can t be serious.

Excessive force, Shawn said, watching the TV with a morose look. You can t choke someone out without repercussions.

He could have broken her neck taking her down like that, Shane added. He should have let the referees handle it and focused on his teammate.

She started it! Dillon said, flailing in disbelief. Why wasn t she suspended? Why weren t the ones that went after Minyard? Why only him?

When have the Ravens ever been held accountable? Laila asked.

Have faith, Rhemann said, with steadying calm. Tonight s officials will likely escalate the matter to the ERC, and Coach Moriyama is no longer in their ranks to protect his team. He glanced at Jean at that, but Jean didn t seem to hear him over the TV. Rhemann didn t press the matter but checked the time on his watch and looked to Jeremy. We re a bit early to head in, but standing around here speculating isn t going to solve anything. Take them on some laps. Slow and easy; it s been a long day.

Jeremy opened his mouth to protest and thought better of it. Yes, Coach.

Moreau, stay a moment, Rhemann said as Jeremy motioned for the Trojans to follow him to the changing room.

The TV was showing replays again as Jeremy turned away. It didn t matter how many laps he ran with his team; every time he blinked, he saw Neil broken and still on the court floor.