More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
"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.
They were different kinds of heartless and Neil, for all his problems connecting with other people, didn't want to be a monster.
"Why do you always get that deer-in-headlights look when someone does something nice for you?"
As he listened to them, Neil realized he was happy. It was such an unexpected and unfamiliar feeling he lost track of the conversation for a minute.
"Stop being a bad influence," Kevin told Nicky. "I am going to make him Court. It'll be easier if he
remains heterosexual. You know more than any of us how prejudiced people can be. Imagine the impact it would have on his career."
"Your parents are dead, you are not fine, and nothing is going to be okay," Andrew said. "This is not news to you. But from now until May you are still Neil Josten and I am still the man who said he would keep you alive.
"I believe you," Kevin said, muffled but noticeably strained. "Liar." Andrew laughed and leaned forward a little to peer out Kevin's window.
Wymack pulled a bottle of vodka out of the bag and put it down beside Kevin. "You have ten seconds to inhale as much of this as you can. I'm timing you. Go." It was alarming how much a man could drink when he needed an emotional crutch. Wymack had to pry the bottle from Kevin's desperate fingers afterward.
"You know, I get it," Neil said. "Being raised as a superstar must be really, really difficult for you. Always a commodity, never a human being, not a single person in your family thinking you're worth
a damn off the court—yeah, sounds rough. Kevin and I talk about your intricate and endless daddy issues all the time."
"I know it's not entirely your fault that you are mentally unbalanced and infected with these delusions of grandeur, and I know you're physically incapable of holding a decent conversation with anyone like every other normal human being can, but I don't think any of us should have to put up with this much of your bullshit. Pity only gets you so many concessions, and you used yours up about six insults ago. So please, please, just shut the fuck up and leave us alone."
"Dan, I said please. I tried to be nice."
Running wasn't easy, but it was easier than trusting Andrew. But Neil remembered the weight of a key in his palm, its metal soaked through with another person's body heat. He remembered Andrew's promise to see this year through with him.
They knew he hated vegetables but loved fruit, that his favorite color was gray, and that he didn't like movies or loud music.
"Andrew claims he's allergic to books,
"Exy isn't an option here, okay? You can love Exy all you want, but it's never gonna love you back." Neil should let it go, but the challenge was out before he could stop it. "So?" "Oh my God." Nicky looked torn between horror and pity. "Seriously? That might be the saddest thing I've ever heard."
Neil thought about Renee's bruised knuckles, Dan's fierce spirit, and Allison holding her ground on the court a week after Seth's death. He thought about his mother standing unflinching in the face of his father's violent anger and her ruthlessly leaving bodies in their wake. He felt compelled to say, "Some of the strongest people I've known are women."
Andrew, though, nodded in the face of it and told Neil to stay. He stood his ground when Neil asked him for murder and gave him a key to their house.
But that didn't count, because Andrew was Andrew, and this was definitely the last turn he needed his thoughts to take. He dragged his attention back to the task at hand and vowed never to listen to Nicky again.
It was a milk carton with a cutout for the wearer's face and a bold "Have you seen me?" printed beneath it. "Oh, that's perfect, Neil," Andrew said. Neil sent him a dirty look.
"How the hell did you talk Andrew into this?" Dan asked, staring at Neil. "I asked," Neil said.
"I don't." Nicky beamed as he let go of Neil. "How did you do it?" Neil neatly excised ninety percent of the truth and said, "I asked."
He withdrew completely, leaving just the memory of his heartbeat against Neil's mouth, and spun away.
Neil waited, but Andrew didn't let go. With so many people watching them Neil couldn't lift his shirt. He did the next best thing and dragged one of Andrew's hands under the hem. He pressed Andrew's palm to the ugly scarring across his abdomen.
"I only see that look on Neil's face when someone tries to do something nice for him, but we all know Kevin's
as bratty as they come. What did you say, Kevin, and do I need to defend Neil's honor or what?"
"I can give you my number," Marissa said. Neil didn't remember asking for it at any point that night. "What for?"
She wasn't the first to say that, but Neil wondered if Andrew's opinion of him would change when he was off his medication. Neil brushed that stray thought aside as irrelevant and unhelpful and focused on Marissa.
"I wouldn't call you," Neil said. "I socialize with the Foxes or not at all."
"You even fucking think about touching him—"
Facing Riko like this went against everything his mother taught him. He'd been raised to run, to sacrifice everything and everyone to ensure his own survival. His mother had never given him ground to stand on. Maybe that was why he hadn't been strong enough to save her in the end. A jumble of lies had nothing to fight for. But Neil Josten was a Fox. Andrew called this home; Nicky called him family. Neil wasn't going to lose any of it. If two weeks with Riko was the price to keep his team safe, Neil would pay it.
"You are one seriously fucked-up individual," Neil said.
He was their family. They were his. They were worth every cut and bruise and scream.
