Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 87395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Friday afternoon's practice was canceled because of the game. The team was expected to be at the stadium by a quarter after six for their seven o'clock serve. Matt collected Neil from the bedroom at five-thirty for a light dinner with the upperclassmen. Dan finished first and went to check on Andrew's lot. Her expression was grim when she returned, but Matt gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
"He'll be fine," Matt said. "He was last year."
"I thought Kevin didn't play last year," Neil said.
The upperclassmen exchanged looks. Neil looked from one face to another, trying to track their silent conversation. Seth and Allison radiated impatience and disapproval, but Renee was smiling a little. Matt grimaced and shrugged, leaving the decision to Dan. Finally Dan sighed and turned on Neil.
"There's something we haven't told you yet," Dan said. "We were going to tell you a while ago, but you and Andrew were having so many problems we figured we'd wait. We didn't know how you'd react."
"We didn't trust you to keep your mouth shut," Allison translated.
Dan made a face at her but didn't deny it. "So Andrew's technically legally required to take his medication, right?"
Neil had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going, but he didn't believe it. "Yes. It was part of his plea bargain."
"He struck a bargain of his own with Coach," Dan said. "The only reason he signed with us is because Coach agreed to let him come off his drugs for game nights. Coach ran it by us first since we're the ones out there on the court with him, but no one else can know. Not even Betsy knows he does it. She's his doctor; she'd have to put an end to it."
"How is Andrew supposed to guard our goal when he's sick?" he asked. In Columbia Andrew softened his withdrawal with alcohol and cracker dust, but he couldn't do that here. Neil still remembered how violently Andrew shook as he puked on the roadside.
"He's not sick yet," Matt said. He put his hand up at eye level. "Andrew's withdrawal is a threestage process. Imagine you're flying high all day. Then suddenly you stop drugging. First you crash." He smacked his hand down to waist height. "That's stage one. He doesn't get sick until stage two."
"Andrew adjusts his schedule on Fridays depending on what time our serve is," Dan said. "He misses his dose a half-hour before the game starts and always plays first half. Usually he can ride stage one until halftime. Then he takes his medicine again and spends the rest of the night on the bench."
Neil guessed that was how Andrew slept all the way to Columbia. He almost made it all the way to Sweetie's before getting violently ill. "What's stage three?"
"Give him his drugs or get stabbed in the face," Matt said dryly. "It's not fun. Luckily we've only ever seen him get that far once."
"He won't get that bad tonight," Dan said. "Besides, you'll be half the court away from him. We just thought you should have a headsup, even if it's a couple months late. Are you going to be okay with this?"
"Is it going to jeopardize our match?" Neil asked.
"No more than anything else will," Matt said.
"Then I don't care," Neil said. "He can do what he wants."
It wasn't the complete truth, but Neil didn't know how to put his remaining reservations into words. Andrew said he hated this game, so why would he make it worse for himself by coming off his drugs for them? At least medicated he might find the matches entertaining. The only guess Neil had was that Andrew hated his medicine more than he hated Exy. That was interesting to consider, but Neil didn't have time to think about it tonight.
It didn't take long to clean up their dinner mess and they met Andrew's group in the hallway. Andrew looked on top of the world as usual, but Kevin's expression was tense. Tonight was Kevin's first season game since his injury and his debut as a right-handed Fox striker. Kevin had to shine tonight if he honestly wanted to make a comeback. How he was supposed to do that with his weaker hand and a team like the Foxes as backup, Neil didn't know.
They left the dormitory early, but traffic was so backed up they were almost late. The stadium had turned into a madhouse sometime between morning practice and now. The parking lots were crammed and security was everywhere, directing fans and watching for drunken foolery. Every gate was open and the guards manning them wielded metal detectors. A line of police cars and two ambulances kept a path clear for the athletes' cars. Two guards stood outside their door, and after a cursory check to make sure none of them were carrying anything illegal into the stadium, they were allowed into their locker room.
Wymack was in the lounge and immediately directed them to the changing room. Neil was halfway through the men's door when Kevin snagged his collar and hauled him down the hall to the back door. Kevin pulled it open and pushed Neil ahead of him through it. Neil stumbled a step, caught his balance a second later, and went to the inner court.
The Foxhole Court was the second collegiate stadium he'd been in, the first being Edgar Allen's Ravens' Nest, but he'd never been in one on a game night. It was one thing to admire the dizzyingly high seats, and another thing entirely when those seats were full. Not all of the sixty-five thousand seats were taken yet, but at least threequarters were. The stadium rumbled with the sounds of tens of thousands of feet. The crowd's yelling and laughing were deafening, and this was before the crowd had a reason to be loud. Neil wondered what they would sound like after the Foxes scored. Maybe it'd be loud enough to crack his bones inside him.
It didn't take anyone long to notice Neil and Kevin in the inner court. When the closest section went crazy, the sound ignited a small wave up the stands. Orange Notes, the campus band, was still filing into their section, but they reacted to the excitement unquestioningly. The drumline beat out a ferocious rhythm and a couple trumpets started the school fight song. A few seconds later the students joined in, yelling the words at one another and the empty court.