The Golden Raven (All for the Game, #5)

by Nora Sakavic

For the first time Jean wondered if they would ever learn to stand their ground.

Jean Moreau? I’ve heard a lot about you.” ​“Hasn’t everyone?” Jean asked without thinking. ​It wasn’t at all funny, but it started an awful, hiccupping laugh out of him. He wanted to peel his face off. He wanted to dig this acidic heat out of his chest before it melted his bones away. He held onto the edge of the chair between his knees and squeezed until his fingers ached. ​coward washout traitor sellout reject whore

Im gonna kms zane just set him back months of happiness im

I do not care what they think of me, he thought, with a desperation that felt terrifyingly endless. I don’t. I can’t. It only matters that I play.

Rhemann would beat Jean within an inch of his life for shoving the ice pack away so rudely, but that was for the best. If Jean was unconscious, he wouldn’t have to think about any of this. But Rhemann only set the ice pack aside and sat back on his heel.

KILL ME .

“I did ask for it,” Jean said. Rhemann needed to know that about him before he wasted his time getting offended on Jean’s behalf. “They—” hated me they all hated me “—asked me if I liked it, and I—” was so afraid “—said yes. I wasn’t allowed to say no.” That last part wasn’t meant to be said aloud, but it was out before he could catch it. Jean pressed unsteady fingers to his lips and shoved until he tasted blood. “I didn’t—” want it I hated it I hated them “—know what else to do.”

Oh im crying? Fkr re this time OH OH OH

“I’m sorry, Coach. I have no right to complain. I crossed a line, and I got what I—” But it caught in his throat with an audible choke, and Jean bit his tongue as hard as he could. ​“Deserved?” Rhemann finished, in a tone Jean never wanted to hear from him again. ​“Yes, Coach,” Jean said.

“I didn’t deserve—” heavy hands, heavier racquets, dark rooms, darker blood, teeth and knives and drowning, I’m drowning, I’m drowning “—what they did to me.”

The gall of it was nearly as frightening as the truth of it, and Jean couldn’t hold on tight enough to muffle a choked sob. ​Don’t, Jean thought, desperate. Endure it. Please— ​“Jean.” Rhemann gave his shoulders a fierce squeeze. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. Let go.” ​Jean crumpled in on himself with an awful sound, and the weight of Rhemann’s arms around him wasn’t enough to keep him from shattering.

Tears dkwn my cheeks ok

The stranger from last night—Adi, Jean remembered—was washing dishes by hand at the sink, but he went still when he spotted Jean.

Oh so they gay gay

It was a curious development; he would have expected Zane’s viciousness to leave him more broken, not less.

thank god 😭

“We can’t just ignore this.” ​“Says the man who refused to care about his own bruises,” Jean said, voice sharp. ​“Jesus, Jean. It’s not the same. Faser—” Jeremy winced as he realized his misstep. Jean committed the man’s name to memory even as Jeremy tried to distract him:

He grabbed Jeremy’s chin to force his head up. “Fuck what I deserve. What about what I want?”

this is fucking insane goodbye I’m fighting demons rn

There was no chance they’d make it home in silence, but Jeremy held out until they were on the interstate. Then he rummaged one-handed in his cup holder and offered Jean a coin. ​“Nickel for your thoughts?”

They’d been brilliant last night, as he’d known they would be—they were Big Three, after all, and the stars of Kevin’s dreary world—but

“I don’t want you to be like Zane,” Jean said, slow as he tried piecing it together. “I don’t want Coach to be like the master. I don’t want to teach Tanner contrition when he continuously fails my drills or to break my racquet over Cat’s back if I think she should have performed better. I don’t ever want to go back to how things were. Maybe you are fools, and I am the biggest fool for indulging you, but better to be reckless fools than Ravens.” ​He held the nickel out toward Jeremy. “We will do it your way, and we will win anyway.”

I have nobody to talk to abt this

He reached blindly for the coin, and Jean pressed it into his palm so Jeremy could keep his eyes on the road. Jeremy gave his fingers a quick squeeze and said, “With you on our side, how can we lose?”

In the end he only found peace by counting: A cool evening breeze. Rainbows. Open roads. Friends. Fireworks. After a beat he added a tentative, Coach, but that was so repulsive he had to reject it.

“My kids,” Wymack had called the Foxes, and Rhemann had said the same this summer: “You’re one of my kids now.” ​Fathers? Jean thought, but that was so horrifically inappropriate he reached for the door handle.

Kms

USC DEFEATS WHITE RIDGE IN HOME OPENER; GOLDEN RAVEN SOARS IN DEBUT.

He saw them pulled up on Cat’s laptop when he checked the kitchen for his friends.

FRIENDS

was Rhemann’s voice in his head, Rhemann’s and his friends’ and Neil’s, drowning out his miserable thoughts and excuses with unrelenting force. Jean squeezed his hands until his fingers went numb and willed himself to believe the words as he slowly spoke them into existence: “I deserve to get better.”

IN EVERY UNIVERSE BUT THIS ONE WE ALL SAY FUCKKK

“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.

You’ll never be Neil fucking Josten bye

“Sure,” Neil said, with a smile that had Jeremy leaning away from his computer.

YALL DONT KNOW THE SIGNIFICANCE YALL DONT FUCKING GET ITITIT

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

Neil Josten u will always be famous

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.

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.

she don’t want your man anymore pls

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.

IM KILLI G HER IM BOMBING EDGAR ALLEN SAY GOODBYE

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.

YMI HAVE NO ONE TO TALJ TOABOUT THISSS

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.

SOMEONE JS DYING TONIGHT

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.

THAT PARTTTTTTTTT GET UOUR MANNN

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.

Oh theyre so hot

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.

THANK YOU GOD ANDREW MY KING

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.

OH IM PISSED

Neil was out near half-court still from serve, but he started for Andrew as soon as the fight started.

Oh like thats bf

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.

Fuck this guy

Red card and a five-game suspension to goalkeeper Andrew Minyard.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDINFG????

“Why wasn’t she suspended? Why weren’t the ones that went after Minyard? Why only him?”

THAT PART???????

“The Foxes are sharper than they let on,” Xavier agreed.

“The ERC reviewed the match between Palmetto State and Edgar Allan. After speaking to all involved parties, they’ve made a ruling: Coach Rossi is stepping down effective immediately, and the Ravens have been suspended for the remainder of the season.”

YES GOD

“No Ravens in finals! Let’s fucking go!”

Lowkey wanted jean to fuck up the raven

“Jasmine fractured two of Neil’s ribs. The angle of her blow and his padding saved the rest.” ​It was what he’d feared, and Jeremy couldn’t stop a quiet, “Jesus.” That took Neil off the lineup for the rest of fall semester; he’d be lucky if he made it back in time for the last one or two matches before winter break.

Oh im KILLING SOMEONE

Jeremy mentally went down the lineup and asked, “Andrew?” ​Jean’s hand slid up to his shoulder, finding the spot where Williams’ racquet made contact. “Fractured clavicle. Winfield hasn’t determined yet if it needs surgery; she is seeking a second opinion.”

KILLLLLLLLLLLLL TBEMMMMMMM

That Jean seemed equally invested in Andrew’s recovery as he was Neil’s was unexpected, but Jeremy couldn’t be heartened by it right now.

How Jean’s kind heart had survived a place like Evermore, Jeremy wasn’t sure.

She rummaged through every pocket on her backpack twice before Cat pushed her headphones up and said, “Back pocket, babe.”

Love hem

She was quiet for about thirty seconds, and then she silenced the entire bus with a shrill, “What do you mean, it’s on fire? No! What do you mean? But—”

OH MY GOD?

“They’ve burned the house down. Our house.”

Jeremy turned an anxious look on Jean, guilt stricken over how delayed his sympathy was. “I’m so sorry,” he said. Jean had come to Los Angeles with a single carryon and two shirts to his name. It’d taken him months to finally fill in the space Cat and Laila gave him, and he’d only recently started adding quiet personal touches to his areas. Jeremy thought of his postcard from Kevin, the wristband from July’s fireworks, and the sand dollar he’d picked up along the way. It made him ill, and his voice caught on his pained, “Jean, I—”

Im gonna end *****

Do not pretend you do not know what is happening here. The Ravens have been ruined, and someone must take the blame. I will always—” Jean couldn’t finish it. His teeth clicked as he clenched his jaw tight.

He was going room by room when Jean said, “I am sorry about your dog.” ​A bit of cardboard was a silly thing to grieve when these three had lost everything, but the reminder put a sharp twist in his chest. Barkbark was one of Cat’s first gifts to him, an attempt to get closer when she realized his and Laila’s friendship was a package deal. Jeremy knew he wasn’t a real dog, but… Jeremy rubbed at the ache and said, “Are you? I thought you hated him.” He meant it to come out a lighthearted tease, but it fell a little flat. The sideways look Jean sent him said he heard it. ​“You didn’t,” Jean said, like that was all that mattered.

LIKE THAT WAS ALL THAT MATTERED