The Raven King (All for the Game, #2)

by Nora Sakavic

"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,

"Did you know Coach has been waiting for us to fix your wardrobe since, like, June? He threatened to sign us up for a marathon if we didn't do something about it. A freaking marathon, Neil. Guys like me aren't supposed to run that far. Do me a favor and don't argue about it." "There's nothing wrong with the clothes I have." "Can we go back to the part where I said not to argue? I remember it pretty clearly considering it happened just five seconds ago."

"Maybe you should get your face smashed in a couple more times if it means you can score on it," Matt said. "Not a fan of that strategy," Neil said.

"So," Kevin said, "did you have fun?" Andrew was too tired to put any heat in his words. "You are despicable, Kevin Day. I don't know why I keep you around."

"She's a psychiatrist," Neil said. "I distrust her on principle."

"New team rule." Matt mimed banging a gavel on the table. "Never again put 'Andrew' and 'mellow' in the same—oh my god."

"Sometimes you're interesting enough to keep around. Other times you're so astoundingly stupid I can barely stand the sight of you."

He was content to watch and imagine. Lonely, too, but there was nothing he could do about that.

"Or we could stay here." "Not as interesting," Neil said. "Appealing to my nonexistent attention span is a cheap trick," Andrew said. "But is it effective?" "You wish it was." "Please?" "I hate that word."

"Oh, you just might be the best thing to happen to the Foxes." "I doubt that." "I don't."

"Why are you so special?" Matt asked. "I'm not," Neil said, confused. "Andrew doesn't give ground to anybody. Why does he keep saying yes to you?" "He's high," Neil said, twirling a finger near his temple. "He thinks it's funny."

Neil wrested his glove free and touched bare fingers to his skin. He didn't feel anything, so he caught at the sink and tried to get to his feet. Wymack let him try once on his own, then got up and hauled Neil upright. Neil wasn't ready to see his reflection again. He was less ready to see the "4" tattooed on his left cheekbone.

He was their family. They were his. They were worth every cut and bruise and scream.