The Raven King (All for the Game Book 2)

It looked like Halloween outside, only two months too early. Last week Palmetto State University was covered in orange and white streamers to celebrate the start of the school year. Over the weekend someone had replaced all of the white ribbons with black ones. It gave the impression the campus was in mourning. Neil Josten thought it a cheap tribute, but that might have been his cynicism talking.

He forgave himself for being jaded. At eighteen years old, he’d seen more people die than he could comfortably count. Death was unpleasant, but it was a familiar and tolerable ache in his chest. Seth Gordon’s unexpected overdose Saturday night should have meant something more to Neil since they’d been teammates and roommates for three months, but Neil felt nothing. Keeping himself alive was hard enough most days; he had no time to linger over others’ misfortunes.

Rock music blared to life, temporarily filling the silence in the car, but it vanished as quickly as it’d come. Neil dragged his attention away from the streamers and looked up front. Nicholas ‘Nicky’ Hemmick let his hand fall away from the dashboard with a quiet curse. Across the backseat from Neil, Nicky’s cousin Aaron Minyard shoved the back of the driver’s seat. Whether it was admonition for trying to pretend things were okay or a silent show of support, Neil wasn’t sure. The cousins’ relationship was a tangled mess he wouldn’t live long enough to figure out.

Nicky reached for the radio again. Kevin Day was sitting shotgun, so he saw Nicky move first. He pushed Nicky’s hand away and said, ‘It’s fine. Let it go.’

‘I don’t want to do this,’ Nicky said, low and miserable.

No one else answered him, but Neil thought they all agreed. None of them were looking forward to today’s practice, but they could only take so much time off when the season was already underway. At least Coach David Wymack was calling them back to the court on a Wednesday afternoon. Andrew Minyard, Aaron’s twin brother, had his weekly therapy sessions on Wednesdays.

Generally Andrew’s wild mood wasn’t a problem, but Andrew’s cheer didn’t make him at all friendly. An excitable Andrew confronted with the death of his least-favorite teammate was a recipe for disaster. The team should have come together Sunday morning to grieve their loss, but Andrew and Matt got into an ugly brawl instead.

Wymack forcibly separated the team after that. The upperclassmen moved in with team nurse Abby Winfield, and the cousins and Kevin were banned to the dorm. Neil would have stayed at the dorm, too, but Wymack didn’t want him alone in the room he’d shared with Matt and Seth. Instead Neil spent a couple nights sleeping on Wymack’s couch. Neil thought Wymack’s concern was misplaced but he knew better than to argue.

Seth died Saturday night and was cremated Monday afternoon. From what Neil heard, Seth’s mother signed off on everything but didn’t even show up at the crematorium to collect her son’s ashes. Allison Reynolds, Seth’s on-again off-again girlfriend and the Foxes’ defensive dealer, kept his urn instead. Neil didn’t know if she planned on burying it or keeping it in her dorm room the rest of the year. He wasn’t going to ask. He still didn’t know what to think about the role he might have played in Seth’s death. Until he sorted that out he’d rather avoid Allison altogether.

Allison wouldn’t be at practice today, but the others would. Neil hadn’t seen the upperclassmen since Sunday morning and he knew the reunion was going to be rough. They were only two days away from the second game of the season, though, and they had to pull together somehow. The Foxes had never had particularly good odds, but this upcoming year was looking bleak. They were already the smallest team in NCAA Class I Exy. Now they were the smallest a team could be and still qualify to play. They’d lost their only fifth-year senior, and their remaining offense team consisted of an injured national champion and an amateur.

Orange glinted at the edge of his peripheral vision. Palmetto State’s Exy stadium was hard to miss, built to seat sixty-five thousand fans and painted with the brightest orange and white paints the school could find. Giant fox paws marked each of the four outer walls. The black ribbons extended all the way here: every lamp post in the parking lots and every one of the twenty-four gates was covered in streamers. The Foxes’ locked entrance was covered in silent tribute. Pictures of Seth with friends and scribbled notes from teachers were taped to the door.

Nicky pulled up to the curb but didn’t kill the engine. Neil climbed out of the backseat and looked over the hood of the car to count squad cars. Kevin’s presence on the team meant the Foxes needed full-time security, but the numbers had doubled over the summer when Kevin’s former team transferred to the southeastern district. Neil was getting used to seeing campus police everywhere he went, but he would always hate the sight of them.

Nicky pulled away as soon as Aaron and Kevin got out. There was no point in him changing out for practice yet, since he’d have to get Andrew from Reddin Medical Center in a half-hour. Neil watched his car turn out of the parking lot onto the road, then looked to his teammates.

It was no secret everyone in Andrew’s four-man group hated Seth, but Aaron and Nicky were still human enough to be rattled by his sudden death. Kevin’s initial reaction to the news had been heartless, but he’d also been completely wasted at the time. Neil didn’t know if he’d scrounged up any remorse since sobering up.

Neil was curious which one of them would cop to apathy first, but he was only so patient. When thirty seconds passed and neither had moved, Neil gave up on them and went to the Foxes’ entrance. The code was supposed to change every couple months, but with the Ravens in their district Wymack now changed it every week. This week it was the last four digits of Abby’s phone number. Neil was starting to think his teammates were right about Wymack and Abby’s invisible relationship.

They filed down the hall to the locker room. That door was unlocked, and the lights were on inside, but the lounge was empty. Neil went to investigate while Aaron and Kevin got settled. A hallway connected the lounge to the foyer, the official meet-and-greet room where the Foxes could speak to the press before and after games. The door on the foyer’s back wall, which led into the stadium itself, was still locked. Neil backtracked to the hall where the changing rooms and offices were. Wymack’s office door was closed, but if Neil listened for a minute he heard Wymack’s muffled voice through the wood. Satisfied no one was here who shouldn’t be, Neil went back to the others.

Aaron and Kevin were rearranging the furniture when Neil walked in. Neil watched as they pushed the chairs and couches into a V-shape, then asked, ‘What are you doing?’

‘Finding a new way to make us fit,’ Aaron said, ‘unless you want to stare an empty chair in the face all season.’

‘It’s the same number of cushions,’ Neil said.

‘Four people barely fit on a couch. Five is out of the question.’

‘Five?’

Kevin looked at him like he was stupid. Neil was painfully familiar with that look by now, but even after four months working with Kevin he still didn’t appreciate it.

‘You do know your place, don’t you?’ Kevin asked.

Until Saturday night, Neil had never been stupid enough to think he had a place. Andrew promised he could change that, but his protection had a price tag. Andrew would protect Neil from his past if Neil helped him keep Kevin at Palmetto State. It sounded easy enough, but Nicky warned him there was more to it. Neil was supposed to do it from the inside of Andrew’s dysfunctional group. He couldn’t hide on the fringes anymore.

Neil looked at the new arrangement in the lounge again and understood. This summer Andrew’s four had all squished onto one couch. Now they could spread out, three on the couch and two to the chairs on either side. The remaining upperclassmen got the couch and chair opposite them.

Neil started for the chair on the end, since he’d always had the outside seat, but Aaron sank into it first. Neil hesitated a second too long, and Aaron finally spelled it out for him. ‘You’re on the couch with Kevin and Andrew. Sit down.’

‘I don’t like being boxed in,’ Neil said, ‘and I don’t want to sit next to your brother.’

‘Nicky put up with it for a year,’ Aaron said. ‘You can deal with it.’

‘You’re his family,’ Neil said, not like it meant a thing to them. Wymack only recruited athletes from broken homes. At the Foxhole Court ‘family’ was a fantasy invented to make books and Hollywood movies more interesting. Neil knew it was a lost cause even as he said it, so he took the seat Aaron had assigned him.

Kevin sat after Neil did, leaving space between them for Andrew. Neil looked around the room again and wondered how the upperclassmen would adjust to the new layout. His stare fell on the oversized schedule hanging above the TV and his stomach knotted as he read down the list. Friday, October 13^th was the day the last-ranked Foxes went up against the first-ranked Edgar Allan University Ravens. It was bound to be a disaster.

Wymack’s door opened down the hall, but a half-second later the phone started ringing. Wymack didn’t bother to close his door again before answering. From what Neil could hear, someone was harassing Wymack about the team’s tiny line-up. Wymack’s obvious irritation made his reassurances less than convincing, but Neil knew he believed every word he was saying. Wymack didn’t care if he had nine Foxes or twenty-five. He’d stand behind them until the bitter, bloody end.

Wymack was still going at it when the lounge door opened. Captain Danielle Wilds was the first into the room, but her boyfriend Matt Boyd and best friend Renee Walker were right behind her. They only made it a couple steps into the room before grinding to a halt.

Dan pointed at Neil but stared at Kevin. ‘What is that about?’

Aaron answered, ‘You knew what it meant when we took him Saturday night.’

Wymack slammed his phone down. Neil wondered if the argument really was over or if he’d used the arrival of more Foxes as an excuse to get off the phone. He strode into the lounge a couple seconds later and followed Dan’s finger to Neil. He looked from Neil to Kevin to Aaron, then around the room at the new layout, then back at Neil.

‘Last I checked Andrew didn’t like you,’ Wymack said.

‘He still doesn’t,’ Neil said, but he didn’t bother to explain.

‘Interesting.’ Wymack eyed Neil a moment longer before turning on the upperclassmen. ‘Sit down, would you? We need to talk.’

Wymack leaned against the entertainment center and waited for them to get settled. He folded his arms across his chest and studied each of his Foxes in turn.

‘Abby wrote me a speech to give you this afternoon. It sounded nice, had lots of stuff about courage and loss and coming together in everyone’s time of need. I tore it up and tossed it in the trash can beside my desk.

‘I’m not here to offer you kind words and pats on the back. I’m not here to be a shoulder to cry on. Take that up with Abby or go down to Reddin and talk to Betsy. My job is to be your coach no matter what, to keep you moving and get you back on the court whether you’re ready to be there or not. That probably makes me the bad guy here, but we all have to live with it.’

Wymack looked at the empty chairs across from him. Palmetto State’s Exy team was on its fifth year now. Wymack built the Foxes from the ground up and handpicked Seth for his first starting line. Between the players’ personal problems, a faulty original contract that let players walk out, and the option to graduate in four years instead of five, Seth was the only one who’d made it to a fifth year with the team. Seth had been a lot of things, most of them unpleasant, but he’d definitely been a fighter. Now he was gone.

Wymack cleared his throat and scratched a hand through his short hair. ‘Look. Shit happened. Shit’s going to keep happening. You don’t need me to tell you life isn’t fair. You’re here because you know it isn’t. Life doesn’t care what we want out of it; it’s up to us to fight for what we want with everything we’ve got. Seth wanted us to win. He wanted us to make it past the fourth match. I think we owe it to him to perform. Let’s show the world what we’ve got. Let’s make this our year.’

‘We’ve lost enough, don’t you think?’ Dan asked her teammates. ‘It’s time to win.’

Matt laced his fingers through hers and squeezed. ‘Let’s take it all the way to finals.’

‘Words don’t mean anything to me,’ Wymack said. ‘Prove to me on my court you have what it takes to make it to championships. I want you on the court in light gear in five minutes or I’ll sign you all up for a marathon.’

Wymack’s odd idea of pep talk was missing its usual feigned anger, but his words were familiar enough to get the team moving. The men’s locker room was silent as they dressed. Neil carried his things into one of the bathroom stalls to change. A vanity separated the toilets from the shower stalls, and Neil stopped there on his way back to consider his reflection.

Neil had a love-hate relationship with his reflection out of necessity. He was the spitting image of the murderous father he’d run away from eight years ago. Hair dye and contacts were the easiest way to hide his face, but keeping up with it when he lived with the Foxes was exhausting. He checked his roots twice a day every day and slept with his back to the room so he could take his contacts out at night. The case was kept in his pillow case and he had spare lenses in his wallet. It was tricky, but it helped keep him alive and safe. Neil didn’t think it was going to be enough anymore. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He didn’t realize how long he’d stalled until Matt and Kevin came looking for him. He saw their reflections as they stepped into the doorway behind him but didn’t turn around.

‘All the way to finals?’ Neil asked.

‘Miracles happen,’ Matt said.

‘Don’t rely on something as insubstantial as a miracle,’ Kevin said. ‘You won’t win anything by standing around. Finish getting changed and get down to the court.’

‘One day I want you to look up ‘insensitivity’ in the dictionary,’ Matt said, annoyed. ‘I’m sure it’ll do your ego wonders to see your picture printed there beside it.’

‘No,’ Neil said before Kevin could respond. ‘He’s right. The chance of Coach finding us another striker when the year’s already started is slim. Until he figures something out, Kevin and I are all you’ve got, and neither one of us is good enough.’

‘Hear that, Kevin?’ Matt said. ‘Your sub said you’re incompetent.’

‘His opinion doesn’t matter to me,’ Kevin said.

He didn’t deny Neil’s words, though, and Neil heard that even if Matt didn’t. Kevin was raised a left-handed striker, but Riko broke his playing hand last December in a fit of jealous rage. Kevin had been trying to relearn the game right-handed since March, but he was nowhere near as good as he’d once been. Public opinion said he was a genius for managing to play at all these days, but Kevin felt his fall from grace keenly. As brutal as Kevin could be toward the rest of the team, he was hardest on himself. It was the only reason Neil tolerated his condescension.

Neil pushed away from the mirrors and finished getting ready. Dan and Renee were waiting for the men in the foyer, and they went into the stadium for warm-ups. After forty minutes of laps and interval runs they trekked back into the locker room for water. They were stretching out as a group when the front door open.

Neil glanced at the upperclassmen to judge their reactions as Nicky and Andrew joined them in the foyer. Dan went back to her stretches after a split-second glance in their direction, and Matt’s expression tightened when he spotted Andrew’s smiling face. Only Renee managed a smile, and her voice was friendly, if quiet, when she said hello.

‘Hi Renee,’ Andrew returned. ‘Are you moving back into the dorm yet?’

‘Tonight,’ Renee said. ‘We packed Matt’s truck this morning.’

Andrew accepted that without argument and vanished into the locker room to change. Nicky hung back a minute, looking a little uncertain as he faced his teammates for the first time in days. Dan looked at him again, but her stony face was not encouraging.

‘Hey,’ Nicky said, subdued. ‘Holding up?’

‘Somehow or other,’ Dan said. She didn’t ask how Nicky was. Chances were she didn’t want to know.

Nicky said nothing for a bit, then, ‘How is Allison?’

‘Do you care?’ Matt asked.

‘Matt,’ Renee said in quiet rebuke. To Nicky, she said, ‘She’s having a hard time right now, as expected, but we make sure she’s never alone. She still won’t speak to Betsy, but I think she’ll open up soon.’

‘Yeah,’ Nicky agreed, barely a whisper.

Wymack waited until he was sure they were done and then gestured at Nicky. ‘You two get down to the court and start doing laps. I don’t pay for electricity in this place so you can stand around and gossip. The rest of you finish up here and get some water. As soon as Andrew and Nicky are ready we’re suiting up for drills. We’ve got—’ Wymack stopped at the sound of his phone ringing down the hall. ‘These leeches are going to drive me insane. I should have invested in a secretary.’

Nicky went into the changing room while Wymack went in search of the phone. Neil was standing at the back of the foyer, closest to the hall, so he heard when Wymack answered. Despite Wymack’s obvious annoyance, he managed a civil tone.

‘Coach Wymack, Palmetto State University. Say again? One moment.’ Wymack stepped into the hall with the portable receiver in his hand. He muted the speaker with the press of his thumb and kicked open the door to the men’s changing room. ‘Andrew Joseph Minyard, what the flying fuck have you done this time?’

‘It wasn’t me, it was the one-armed man!’ Andrew yelled from out of sight.

‘Get out here!’ Wymack yelled back as the door swung closed. Andrew appeared a couple seconds later, already changed into his uniform. Wymack pointed the phone at him and said, ‘The police are on the phone for you. You’d better come clean with me before I get the unabridged version from them.’

‘It wasn’t me. Ask my doppelganger?’

Wymack scowled at him, turned the microphone back on, and put the phone at his ear. ‘What seems to be the problem, Officer… Higgins, you said?’

‘Oh,’ Andrew said, startled. ‘No, Coach.’

Wymack waved at him to be quiet, but Andrew grabbed Wymack’s wrist and wrenched the phone out of his grasp. Wymack caught his jersey before Andrew could run off. Andrew didn’t try to wiggle free but stared at the phone in his hand like he’d never seen such technology before.

‘Don’t make him wait all day,’ Wymack said.

Andrew turned, not enough to break loose but enough he could see his brother. Aaron had stopped mid-stretch to stare at him. Andrew threw his hands up in an exaggerated shrug and finally put the phone at his ear.

‘Pig Higgins, is that you?’ Andrew asked. ‘Oh, it is. Yes, I’m surprised. Did you forget I don’t like surprises? What? No, don’t stall. You wouldn’t hunt me down after all this time just to chat, so what do you want?’ Andrew went quiet for a few seconds to listen, then said, ‘No,’ and hung up.

The phone started ringing again almost immediately. The Foxes were staring openly now, their stretches forgotten. Wymack didn’t order them back to business, so Matt sat on one of the benches to watch this odd scene unfold. Andrew yanked at his jersey until Wymack let go, then put space between them as fast as he could. He leaned against the wall, clapped his free hand over his ear, and answered the phone.

‘What? No, I didn’t hang up on you. I wouldn’t do that. I—no. Shut up.’

Andrew hung up again, but Higgins was persistent enough to call a third time. Andrew let it ring five times before answering with an explosive sigh.

‘Talk to me,’ Andrew said, and waited as Higgins explained himself all over again.

Higgins went on for a good two minutes. Whatever he was saying couldn’t be good; the conversation was visibly cutting through Andrew’s drug-induced mania. Andrew’s smile was long gone, and he started tapping his foot halfway through Higgins’ story. He looked away from Aaron as the last of his cheer bleached out of his expression and pointed his gaze at the ceiling instead.

‘Go back,’ Andrew finally said. ‘Who complained? Oh, Pig, don’t give me the runaround. I know where you work, you see. I know who you work with. That means there’s a child in her house. She isn’t supposed—what? No. Don’t ask me that. I said don’t. Leave me alone. Hey,’ Andrew said, a little louder like he was trying to drown the officer’s arguments out. ‘Call me again and I’ll kill you.’

He hung up. This time the phone stayed silent. Andrew waited to make sure Higgins got the hint, then put one hand over his eyes and started laughing.

‘What’s so funny?’ Nicky asked as he rejoined them. ‘What did I miss?’

‘Oh, nothing,’ Andrew said. ‘No worries.’

Wymack looked from Andrew to Aaron and back again. ‘Now what have you done?’

Andrew spread his fingers and peered between them at Wymack. ‘What makes you think this is my fault?’

‘I hope that’s a rhetorical question,’ Wymack said, not at all fooled by Andrew’s innocent act. ‘Why is the Oakland PD calling you?’

‘The pig and I go way back,’ Andrew said. ‘He just wanted to catch up.’

‘You lie to my face one more time and we’re going to have a problem.’

‘It was mostly the truth.’ Andrew dropped his hand and tossed the phone across the room. It hit the ground so hard the back popped off. The handset slid one direction and the battery went the other. ‘He worked with the Oakland PAL program. Thought he could save at-risk kids by teaching them sports after school. Kind of like you, yes? Idealistic to the core.’

‘You left Oakland three years ago.’

‘Yes, yes, I’m so flattered he remembers me, or something.’ Andrew waved one hand in a lazy ‘what can you do’ gesture and started for the door. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Wymack put an arm into his path. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I’m leaving.’ Andrew pointed past Wymack in the direction of the exit. ‘Didn’t I say I’ll see you tomorrow? Maybe I mumbled.’

‘We’ve got practice,’ Dan said. ‘We have a game on Friday.’

‘You have Joan of Exy over there. Make do without me.’

‘Cut the shit, Andrew,’ Wymack said. ‘What is really going on here?’

Andrew put a hand to his forehead dramatically. ‘I think I’m coming down with something. Cough, cough. Best I leave before I infect your team. There’s so few of them left. You can’t stand to lose anyone else.’

Impatience pulled Kevin’s mouth into a hard line. ‘Knock it off. You can’t leave.’

There was a heartbeat of silence, and then Andrew turned around with a wide, wicked smile on his lips. ‘I can’t, Kevin? I’ll show you what I can’t do. Try and put me on your court today and I’ll take myself off it permanently. Fuck your practice, your line-up, and your stupid fucking game.’

‘That’s enough. We don’t have time for your tantrums.’

Andrew twisted and punched the wall hard enough to split the skin along his knuckles. Kevin took a quick step forward, hand out like he could stop Andrew from landing a second blow, but Wymack was closer. He caught Andrew’s arm and hauled him away from the wall. Andrew didn’t look away from Kevin to acknowledge the interference. Only when Kevin finally stepped back did Andrew try to pull free of Wymack’s grip.

‘Cough, cough, Coach,’ Andrew said. ‘I’m leaving now.’

‘Coach, let him go,’ Aaron said. ‘Please.’

Wymack flicked a frustrated look between them, but Aaron was staring at his feet and Andrew’s smile explained nothing. Finally Wymack dropped his hand and said, ‘You and I are going to have a very long talk later, Andrew.’

‘Sure,’ Andrew said, a bright and blatant lie. He was gone a heartbeat later.

‘Seriously,’ Nicky said when the door slammed behind Andrew, ‘what did I miss?’
‘Answers now, Aaron,’ Wymack said.

‘I don’t know,’ Aaron said.

‘My ass you don’t.’

‘I don’t know,’ Aaron said again, a little louder. ‘I don’t know why Higgins is calling. Call him back or take it up with Andrew if you want answers. He was Andrew’s mentor, not mine. I only met the guy once.’

‘He obviously left an impression if you still remember him.’

‘Oh,’ Nicky said in startled realization. ‘Is he—?’

He didn’t finish, but Aaron understood what he was asking.

‘Yeah,’ Aaron said. ‘He’s the one who told me I had a brother.’