Chapter Text
Wymack called the team to a meeting at Abby’s place 3 weeks later. It was the week they were set to verse the Jackals, and the team was feeling the tension. They were one of the most violent exy teams in their district, close behind Edgar Allen.
Their starting loss to them last season was not something Kevin wanted repeated, and he drove that point into the minds of every single Fox at their training sessions. Everyone was getting sick of him, even though they hadn’t lost a single game in the season so far.
After their annihilation of the Belmonte Terrapins, they had versed USC Colombia and the JD Campbell Tornadoes. Their win against the Tornadoes was so pitifully easy, Kevin thought he could have still won if he was the only player on the court. As for Colombia, the game was aggressive, with the tensity that they both came from the state of South Carolina. The Foxes ended up on top with a score of 7-4, but it was far too close for Kevin’s liking. Jack got himself a red card for punching his marking backliner in the groin, resulting in a 2 week game ban. On top of that, he had still not scored a single goal during a game. Sheena had been improving week by week, and was getting more confident, scoring more goals alongside Neil and Kevin. Wymack was so over Jack’s attitude at that point, that he didn’t even argue with the referees about the red card.
The entire team was barely tolerating Jack anymore. Matt had started sleeping in the spare bunk in Allison and Robin’s room, and Aaron and Aubrey were bunking in Kevin’s room. Neil took to sharing Andrew’s bed. According to them, Jack had become a terror to live with, which they suspected he was doing on purpose. He wasn’t helping to keep the place clean, constantly playing loud music late at night, and even continually brought girls to the dorm and had sex with them whilst Aaron, Aubrey & Matt were in the room.
Wymack advised it was on them to sort it out, in his usual stance of staying out of Fox drama. He said if it got detrimental to how they played, he would step in. But otherwise, it was their problem.
Jack had also started becoming more violent on court during training. He was constantly sparking arguments with whoever was marking him. Itzel threatened to cut his balls off if he kept tripping her. Matt was fed up with his attitude, Aaron never had the patience or grace not to bite back, and Nicky always jumped onto it as a chance to further stir Jack up.
He seemed to have it in for Amira in particular. Kevin had noted early on in her joining how little body checks she did, which drove Kevin absolutely mental. She put her effort into her stick work, which he was grudgingly impressed by with how creative she was. Depending on the position of her opponent, she could use the end of her net to flick and tap people’s balls lose, to full on twisting closer to where they held on, applying pressure so badly people had to drop everything.
It wasn’t explicit, but she seemed to take satisfaction out of getting balls from Jack. She told Kevin it felt like practice for versing the Ravens in future. He ignored the comment, but didn’t entirely disagree.
Jack used every opportunity to check Amira in the most devilish ways possible. One afternoon session, he knocked her head so hard against the plexiglass her nose started to bleed. Coach ordered her off to avoid getting blood on the court, but she made sure to wipe some drippings on Jack on her way past. Jack lunged for her after that, but Kevin stuck his arm out, Amira not even bothering to look back as he fought in Kevin’s arms to get a hit at her. Kevin slammed him to the ground to get him to stop. Only when Wymack threatened to drag him off the court did he calm down.
Kevin could tell it was exhausting Dan & Neil - it was draining them to have to babysit Jack every time he started something. Kevin and Neil discussed ways their racquets might be able to accidentally decapitate Jack so that he would no longer be a problem. Andrew started to talk about it with a little too much realistic logistics, and Kevin had to remind him they were not actually going ahead with it.
When everyone met at Abby’s for the meeting, Jack isolated himself as always. He didn’t eat with them, and complained when Amira said she had cooked dinner for everyone. Amira was excited to have everyone gather at Abby’s, and made a huge dinner of aloo paratha, dhal, chana masala and chettinad. By the time Wymack could tell them the news he had, everyone was in a food coma, stuffed to the brim but immensely happy.
“Okay – now, I promised good news so here it is. So I assume you are all aware of the brand Leap-R?”
He looked around, and Matt & Neil’s eyes lit up instantly, Matt lifting his foot to show he was wearing one of their sneakers currently.
“Coach, they are awesome. Why are you asking?”
Coach smiled amusedly, cocking his brows before he continued.
“They reached out to the ERC with an interest in being a sponsor for one of the Class I districts. They advised they had particular interest in us and our team – believe our values align and what not. So now, we are officially sponsored by them and they will be designing our uniforms and all sportswear for next season.”
Matt and Neil sprung up at the same time, and began to yell at Wymack in disbelief. Aubrey and Aaron also looked immensely pleased, and the rest of the team was curious about the opportunity. Matt grabbed Coach’s shoulders and shook them with glee.
“So Neil can finally stop stealing my shoes all the time because he’s too stubborn to get his own?”
Wymack snorted, and Neil shook his head, looking at Matt pointedly.
“What’s yours is mine Matt, you said it yourself.”
“Yeah, and I grieve that I ever let those words leave my mouth.”
Everyone burst out laughing. Nicky poked a foot at Neil’s leg, a taunting smile on his face.
“You two have the same shoe size? Makes sense. You know what they say, the bigger the foot the bigger the -“ Dan and Andrew threw pointed looks at Nicky, who grinned, throwing his hands up in the air.
“Don't you both start ganging up on me now. New dream team alert.” Dan shook her finger at Nicky bossily and tutted.
“That is because we share the pain of you always trying to fuck our boyfriends.”
“Not my fault they were born their way and I was born mine.”
Dan and Andrew both glared, then looked at each other in surprise that they were agreeing on something – a rarity. Wymack looked grossed out by the conversation, shoving Matt off him gently, folding his arms across his chest.
“Please keep these conversations out of my presence or I might self combust. Now, they want to open the partnership with marketing and advertising or whatever, so they’ve booked us in for a photo shoot mid-November. I would say not to obtain bruises, scratches, injuries prior to this shoot, but that won’t be possible. We are versing the Ravens the day before we meet with them. I asked them to push it back a week they’re too busy. The ERC is looking at us on this to succeed, they believe in the future they could get them to sponsor the NCAA across the whole country. They’ll also be doing interviews as it’ll be for a sports magazine they are partnered with. I told them not all of you are very interview friendly.”
Wymack glared at Neil at that, who looked smug.
“So I have nominated Dan of course, and Kevin to do the interview part. That may change depending on their actual needs on the day. I will let you know. Otherwise, that’s all the good news I have. We have the Jackals tomorrow. That oaf of a player Gorilla is on his 5th and last year with them. Please do not let us lose against them. Now everyone, out of Abby’s house so she can disinfect it from your presence.”
Kevin watched everyone stand and leave, and followed behind Andrew at the back, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, and Amira stood with folded arms, her eyes uncertain. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes looking upstairs then back at him.
Another silent question. Following her line of sight, he guessed it was to speak in private.
Kevin’s mind immediately went into overdrive about what this could be about. Over the last 3 weeks, he had managed to keep himself at a safe distance from her. He continued to be blase when he spoke to her, but maintained his criticisms and beat downs during training so as not to arouse suspicion. He thought he had successfully managed to keep her out of his mind. The amount of sex he was having was probably concerning. But it kept him busy, not able to allow space to think about anything but that and exy. Had it not worked? Had his incompetence of controlling himself shown so obviously? He ran his tongue across his teeth, smacking his lips before nodding slowly, keeping his expression neutral, and nodded.
She looked at Andrew over his shoulder. “Don’t wait up. I’ll drop him back to the dorms later.”
Andrew shrugged, turning and walking out the door. Neil watched for a moment with furrowed brows before following, closing the door behind him. Kevin felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Amira gestured for him to follow, and he went with her upstairs to her room. He hadn’t been in here since the day he found out about the Edgar Allen banquet. He didn’t remember too much of it, but it did seem more full, personable than before.
Amira had put up print outs of all the exy teams, their current stats and their players. She had mood boards of sticks she wanted, helmets and shoes, other exy gear. There were baseball players as well — he supposed she still followed the sport. She also had a lot of music posters, which struck his gut, remembering the CD she had given him. He still listened to the album once a night before bed, whenever he slept at the dorm, which was rare these days.
Amira closed the door once Kevin was inside, and moved to her bed. She had her hair up in a high ponytail today, which swayed side to side as she walked. It was not too dissimilar to staring into a kaleidoscope, with a mesmerising, beautiful rhythm to it. She put her arm behind her when she sat, grabbing her hair, a habitual move to prevent herself from sitting on it. She did it every single time she sat down. Kevin watched every single time she did it.
He was unsure how this was going to go, and in case it needed a quick exit, he slowly sat himself on the wooden desk that was against the same wall as the door. He rested his hands either side of him, plopping his feet on the desk chair.
She seemed unsure of how to start. Kevin had never seen her so… nervous. He frowned, tilting his head as waited for her to start speaking.
She leaned over to her bedside table, opening the drawer to pull out a small pile of envelopes. There were about 4 or 5, all identical. She tapped them against her thigh before turning to Kevin.
“You have to promise me you are not going to say a word about this to anyone on the team. Or Coach, or Abby or Dobson. Can you promise me that?”
He raised an eyebrow, and became wary of the direction that this was going. She stared at him expectantly, and he stared back. He eventually nodded, but was unsure if speaking right now would be beneficial. She continued once she saw him nod.
“I’ve been getting these letters. Every week or so since the banquet. I think they’re from Edgar Allen. And I think they’re planning something.”
Kevin’s spine stiffened. She watched him cautiously, and when Kevin stood up, shaking his head and reaching for the door, she rushed forward, putting her palm flat against it. Her eyes were wide, her breathing starting to quicken. Kevin started, hand on the door handle and twisted.
“No. Whatever it is, no, we have to tell Coach. You can’t handle this alone, Amira. We can’t. Absolutely not.”
She shook her head, and he had never seen her look so desperate. When he tried to open the door, she slammed it shut immediately, putting her back against it. Kevin still had his hand on the knob, and the space between him and the door was minimal.
Amira had pushed herself in between that space, almost body to body. He stared down at her, hardening everything in him as best as he could at the proximity. Her eyes, the fear, it was an infecting wound he had no way to treat. She didn’t move, and neither did he. He knew she wouldn’t until he sat down. Slowly, ever so slowly, she reached up and placed a hand on his chest. Her hand was shaking, and his heart hammered against her palm. She gently pushed him back toward the bed until he sat down, and he let her do it. Why did he let her do it?
“Amira. I don’t care what this is, I don’t want to know, I don’t care if you think we can handle it – the answer is no. We cannot sort this alone. I don’t even fucking want to ask this, but what is in those letters?”
His voice came out harsher than he expected, as she stood in front of him. His mind raced over and over his deal with Ichirou. Tetsuji was gone, the Ravens didn’t own him anymore, so what were they playing at, messing with the Foxes, so close to Ichirou’s property?
Amira slowly sank down beside him and picked the letters up, hands shaking. When he looked at her face, it was dull, blank. Tears dripped from the corner of her eyes, but she didn’t even look sad. He was familiar with the feeling – of pain so extreme you couldn’t even resemble a functioning human being. She stared at the letters for minutes, before slowly handing them to Kevin. When she spoke, it came out as a broken whisper.
“They’re notes. From when my mother took my father to court. I don’t even know how they would have gotten them. It’s the worst of the details too. And the last page in each letter has been some number. I couldn’t figure it out for a while but I think it’s counting down to our game with them in November.”
Her voice broke then, and Kevin closed his eyes, trying to balance himself. He slowly opened the first letter, and there were about 6 pages of court report notes, plus the number at the end. It was too familiar, reminding him of Aaron’s murder hearing. It struck his gut, and everything rolled around with him. The text was in black, except the number at the end was red. He didn’t want to read this, he didn’t want to put her through the suffering of him knowing. But she was trusting him to. He read over each page carefully, and after 20 minutes of crushing silence, he finished, sliding it in the envelopes.
He was aware of the paper crumpling in his fists.
That he was ruining it. He turned to Amira, placing the letters back down on the bed. He shoved his hands beneath his thighs for a poor semblance of self-control, barely bridled rage coursing through him. He spoke with a voice so deadly calm that Amira flinched.
“Why are you telling me this?” She didn’t immediately answer, and stared at the wardrobe door instead. After a moment, she opened her mouth with words that gave him the credence that maybe he wasn’t the terrible person his mind fed him to be.
“Because I trust you enough to not let this team get hurt anymore than they already have been. What do I do, Kevin?”
It was a croaked plea for help, and Kevin hated that he couldn’t fucking ignore it. Not when it was her. Not when they were targeting her pain. He closed his eyes, placing his face in his hands. He couldn’t think.
The weight of those letters, awful tinder to the furious flame of her trauma, that needed to go. He stood up, snatching up the letters with him and nodded towards the door.
“We need to go to the dorms. That’s first. Let’s go.”
With a glance, she took a moment to gather herself, wiping her face and putting her glasses back on. He wished he could prevent what she was going through, but it was an inevitability of her experience. And it was not something he could save her from. It was something she had to do herself. But he could at least be a crutch to keep her afloat along the way.
She let him lead the way, and they went downstairs to leave, but stopped at the front door when Abby cleared her throat, arms folded and Wymack at her side. Wymack looked like he would rather be anywhere but in that location, perhaps buried in the ground beneath him. Abby nudged him, but he only did it back to her. She sighed and looked at Kevin and Amira.
“If you two are going to do – activities here – it would be preferable if it was whilst I was not home, and also if David was not here.”
It came out stiff and awkward, and Amira raised her eyebrows. Kevin’s tight chest somersaulted, continuing its hammering dance within him. Keeping his face blank at this moment was one of the hardest things he had ever done. Amira glanced at Kevin, shaking her head quickly and looked back to Abby. She seemed unable to speak, so Kevin did it for her.
“We were talking about the game tomorrow.”
Kevin put on a nonchalant frown to cover for Amira being shy. His mind clung to that reaction, but now was not the time to think about it. Abby visibly relaxed, as did Wymack, who cleared his throat and waved them off, looking at Amira.
“Get Kevin home, and come right back so Abby doesn’t have to stay up late worrying about you.”
Amira gave an obedient “Yes Coach” before following Kevin out the door. She unlocked her car, waiting until he got in and placed her hand on the steering wheel. She stared ahead, a statue of anxiety, and couldn’t seem to move. Kevin frowned, slowly holding out a hand, palm up, and waited.
Amira looked down at his hand, understanding his silent question and nodded slowly. She handed him the keys and got out of the car. Kevin climbed into the driver’s seat, and Amira opened the passenger door, sliding in. She put on her belt, squeezing the tip of each finger on her hand over and over again. Kevin remained silent, focusing on the road but her movement was distracting. Despite the radio being on, the background noise didn’t calm her. The constant movement only made him more on edge, until he snapped.
“Stop.” It was harsh, and in a sudden and swift move, one hand left the steering wheel, and pressed down firmly on top of both of her hands. He continued his pressure on top of her skin, sandwiching her hands between her leg and his palm. She froze at the contact, staring straight ahead. He thought she would hit him or shove him away, but she instantly stilled. Kevin’s jaw moved, as it was the most candid physical action that had ever occurred between them.
Amira turned her head to him, but he refused to look back. He only moved his hand when changing gears, but he felt her expectation for him to put the pressure back on her hands each time. So he did.
At one point, she moved her pinky, and linked it through his. Anchoring herself to his stillness, his solid presence. He wished he could have suspended himself then, if only to feel that moment of undisturbed peace for a little while longer.
Once they reached the dorms, he let go of her. He hadn’t realised his chest had stilled, but the racketing anxiety came flooding back. He turned the car off, getting out and closing the door, locking the car. He threw the keys back to her without a word, and shoved his hands in his pockets, leading the way in silence. She didn’t question what he was doing, simply followed.
He paused outside his dorm, and waved for her to continue upstairs to the rooftop. She seemed confused but followed his instruction, disappearing up the next staircase. Kevin let out a sigh and opened up the dorm, heading straight to the kitchen.
Andrew was in there making hot chocolate, which Kevin knew was Bee’s exact recipe. Nicky was at his desk, his phone to his ear, and by the drifting conversation, he suspected he was talking to Eric. Nicky waved him over to say hello, but Kevin shook his head. He moved to the utensil drawers, digging around in each one until he found a box of matches. Andrew held his whisk up at Kevin, tapping him on the arm.
“Since when did you get into arson Kevin? New hobby for the distracted mind? Inspired by Sheena?”
Kevin shook his head, choosing not to respond and closed the drawer, turning to leave and sighed when Andrew grabbed his sleeve.
“Tut tut Kevin, that’s very rude of you. What did Amira talk to you about?”
Kevin looked at him, shoving him off and going toward the door. Andrew hated being ignored, and it showed when he stopped Kevin from leaving the dorm.
“Don’t make me ask again.”
Andrew would know if he was lying, so Kevin said the only thing that was true and would get Andrew off his back.
“Her father.”
Andrew looked at Kevin, trying to catch the lie. He seemed satisfied enough, as he opened the door with a mock bow. Kevin rolled his eyes and escaped from Andrew as quickly as he could. He went upstairs, and moved out onto the rooftop. Amira had climbed up, and sat on the edge of the building, one leg tucked under her and the other dangling. She had her eyes closed, and the evening breeze brushed over her, rippling through her hair, and seemed to calm her. Kevin walked up behind her, and she seemed to sense his presence, because she looked back at him. He slowly pulled the letters out of his pocket, and crouched down, laying them in a pile on the concrete. He pulled out the matches and held them up in offering to her.
She caught on to what he was suggesting, and slowly came off the roof, joining him. She sat down cross legged beside where he squatted, and took the matches from his hand. Her hand shook as she opened the packet, and she struck the match she picked on the second attempt. She slowly, uncertainly brought the flame down, and rested it gently on the top of the small letter pile. The paper caught aflame, and the pair watched in silence as the paper burned.
The flame grew a little higher as it lapped and licked the letters. Kevin watched Amira, the light dancing in the reflection of her glasses, the flame setting her face aglow. She stared on with deadened eyes. It didn’t last longer than a few minutes, and before they knew it, the pile was ashes. Loose cinders floated in the air, rising within their own heat, blowing away in the gentle breeze.
Some of them littered onto Kevin, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t wipe them away. Instead, Amira did it for him. Her hand went to his cheek, hovering over his skin as she gently stroked the loose ash from his cheek. He refused to look. He couldn’t. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he did.
Her hand stayed longer than he thought it should. But he felt why. She had placed her thumb over his tattoo, holding it there a moment, feeling the ever so slight raise of his skin, the smooth ink. She seemed to realise she had been doing it for too long as well, as she suddenly dropped her hand, taking her warmth with her. She stood up, nodding at the pile.
“We should probably clean this up.”
“I’ll sort it, you go back to Abby’s. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
She stared down at the ashes a moment longer, then at Kevin. He felt the intensity of her stare on him, soaking it in and sighed as she finally turned and left. He put his hands behind his head and tilted his face to the sky.
If he could wish upon a star, it would be for an easy solution. But that was pathetic, unrealistic thinking. Gazing upon the dark sky until his eyes burned, he let his mind chew and churn on all the possible ways to make this go away. Realistically, he should tell Coach. It was the safest, easiest solution. But keeping a promise… he was usually the one dishing them out. Losing Amira’s trust wasn’t high on his priority list, and he refused to give that thought any further brevity.
Perhaps Neil was an option, but that would simply be an admittance that Kevin couldn’t solve his own problems, relied on everyone to do it for him. Kevin wasn’t helpless, but he knew the Foxes favoured him useless in matters of importance that extended beyond exy. That Amira was the first to seek him out in this matter whirled in his mind as to the reasoning behind it. Had he really given her a crutch to lean on? Did he even want to be that crutch, for someone he barely knew, that was forced upon the Foxes by surprise?
If anything, she was the crutch between the two. The effortless way she floated as an open ear, a keen learner, a 6th sense to read between the lines. To know how to save him from drowning in his own mind, to stepping in when he couldn’t hold himself together at the banquet. Why was he so magnetised to this imperceptible stranger? She had no reason to favour any of them, to be kind or thoughtful. Yet she did anyways. It reminded him an awful lot of Jean, and that territory was far too much of a dark hole to sink himself into.
Drowsiness eventually took over his racing mind, and he slipped into unwilling unconsciousness.
For what should have been a sweet reprieve, strong, veiny hands had appeared, tracing sharp lines along his ribs, his hips, a burning line of blood left in its wake.
“Did you think you would be able to escape me again, Kevin?”
Kevin blinked, trying to move a hand to rub the blur of his eyes but was stuck in place, skin fusing with the dark laminate he was laying on. Bile stirred in his stomach as Riko came into view, lips curved with a starved smile as he bent over Kevin. Riko’s frozen hands kept roving over his torso, digging in a maze of cuts that led to his heart. Trying to scream was impossible, the roof of Kevin’s mouth sticky and glued shut.
All he could do was cry as he watched his former partner slice him to the bone, cackling at the handiwork he was producing. “You’re always going to be at my whim. To escape my hand is to die by your own. Thinking you can save her, how much more foolish can you get?”
Riko grinned as he slid blood stained hands to Kevin’s shoulders, pressing the full extent of his weight down. Moaning, Kevin couldn’t even squirm as his body sank and became part of their dark bedroom in Edgar Allen. No Jean to save him, no buffer to prevent the utter malfunctioning of his brain when his shoulders were in the clutches of his former brother.
The smell of smoke wafted up his nostrils and stung, and coughing through a closed mouth only made him choke. Kevin refused to beg, refused to ever be that weak again, and gasped when a warm, firm hand pounded into his stomach.
Eyes flying open, Kevin was suddenly able to sit up, clutching at his chest and choking to get air into his lungs. Andrew was squatting beside him, expression bored as he watched Kevin try to figure out breathing.
“Is Riko still touching my belongings from 6 feet under? What a roach.” Andrew flicked ash from the cigarette between his fingers before standing, hauling Kevin up with him. Quickly widening his stance for balance, Kevin clenched his teeth as he averted the goalie’s piercing gaze altogether and opted to stare at the pile of ashened paper instead.
Feeling Andrew’s keen eyes on the back of his head, he bent down to collect the leftover paper in his hand, coming to the conclusion then as it floated away in the night breeze: he had to go forward the only way he knew how, with clawing, desperate survival.