Chapter Text
Within the first 5 minutes of their game against the Breckenridge Jackals, there were 3 yellow cards.
Kevin found their attitude insufferable. Neil and Sheena took the first half together, and they were struggling. Kevin hated it. Andrew was successfully keeping the goal protected, but the possession was with the Jackals for a majority of the time. Sheena had Gorilla on her from the get go, as Dan and Kevin had planned. The idea was that they would hopefully have a fight so bad that Gorilla would get kicked off the court. It hadn’t worked so far, due to lack of possession, and the focus on body checks being of higher importance. Wymack’s patience thinned very fast, and he smashed his fist against the plexiglass, yelling.”
“Can you lot focus on scoring a damn goal please?!”
Aaron and Itzel were the backliners, with Allison on dealer, and the three of them were struggling with the Jackal’s strikers and dealer. Their opposition worked in better unison, with smooth passes and accurate rebounds. However, it didn’t last long as they were growing frustrated by Andrew in goal. One of the strikers went to take a shot, but Andrew easily knocked the racquet from the striker and the ball went the opposite way it was intended. The striker lost it then, and shoved at Andrew in anger. When that happened, Andrew simply smiled, and dropped his racquet, grabbing at the girl’s helmet and slamming it down into his knee. The girl screamed, bewildered and hurt, as she fell back on the ground.
The referees blew their whistle, and when they gave the girl the yellow card instead of Andrew, she started to get in the refs’ faces about it. When she wouldn’t give it up, and shoved one of them with a swearing insult, they turned it to a red, and she got forced off the court. Andrew laughed the whole time, which only further ignited the girl’s spitting hatred. She screeched the entire time she was taken away. Her replacement seemed annoyed by her teammates’ actions, whilst Aubrey subbed on for Allison, and the game continued on.
The Foxes then got themselves up 2 points, a result of Neil dodging Gorilla and his own marking backliner with successful speed & footwork. His third attempt at doing so was not so lucky, and Gorilla slammed him sideways when he had the ball. He lost footing and went down, sliding across the court floor. Kevin winced at Neil’s dazed wobble, and when Gorilla went to make worse of it, Sheena shoved at him before he could. The two of them burst into an ugly fist fight, with Gorilla trying to throw Sheena into the barrier. It took all 6 refs to call Gorilla off, as Sheena was restrained by Nicky and Aubrey.
It took all of Itzel’s effort to keep Andrew from trying to kill Gorilla on the court. She had to tackle him down whilst the refs dealt with Gorilla, and when Andrew started punching her, she started doing it back. Once Sheena had calmed, Nicky and Aubrey ran over to the fiery pair, but seemed unwilling to get in the middle of it. Eventually they separated, but only because Gorilla was finally off court. Andrew went to Neil’s side, helping get him up off the ground. Neil swore, and tried to push Andrew off stubbornly, repeatedly saying he was fine, but his swaying said otherwise. Wymack stepped on then to pick Neil up, and put him over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing. Neil tried to complain but he seemed too dizzy then to try and stop it.
Gorilla got given a red card and a 3 game ban for his smash out on Neil. Kevin subbed on for Neil for the rest of the first half. He only managed 1 goal, due to how little time there was left of the first half. At half time, the score was 3-0, but Kevin had a feeling things would be far more drastic in the second half.
Wymack paced back and forth in their lounge as during half time, not stressed but rather pissed off.
“Yes, we are currently winning. And yes, Gorilla is off the court. But they are being relentless, and we are letting them have their way with us. Quit letting them get under your damn skin. Renee, I want you and Robin to share the goal for the second half. Neil is in with Abby, and she doesn’t think he’ll be able to come back on. Kevin, you and Sheena will need to be on for the rest of the game. Amira and Dan, I want you on for this half. Nicky and Aaron, take a toss on who joins Matt for the whole second half. I want us in possession, keep that ball away from their goal. Do we understand? And Jack, behave and do not fucking swear at the refs from the sidelines. It takes one pissed off ref to extend your game ban, do not test them. Is everyone clear on their objectives here?”
Everyone yelled a “Yes Coach” before continuing to drink electrolytes on their break. Andrew had peeled his gear off and was with Abby and Neil, and Kevin imagined he would not rejoin them to watch the rest of the game. Dan went up to Kevin and pulled him aside privately, lowering her voice and putting her head close to his.
“We need to win this game, Kevin. What are we doing to get there?”
He nodded toward the other Foxes, then back at her. Ensuring he sounded cold and cruel, he spoke with enough cutting impatience to get under Dan’s skin. It was an enjoyable pastime, but more so when she reacted so predictably – pulling the strings, keeping everyone on a cliff edge.
“Tell your backliners to not react to checks like mindless apes, make sure you and Amira are doing your passes accurately and not the usual sloppy shit you give me, Robin and Renee need to not second guess themselves in goal every time the ball comes their way. None of that is going to happen Dan, because they’re Foxes and imperfections are our constant, so all we can do is play.”
She frowned, shoving him back in irritation. “Do you always have to be so atrociously cruel?”
Kevin raised one brow. He felt sorry that he had to spell it out for her. “If you weren’t all so irritatingly stupid, I wouldn’t have to be. Change starts with you, Dan.”
She scowled and turned, going back to the others. It was the intended impact, as a pissed off Dan was more useful to him in these instances. She would be too stubborn to let him be right, and he watched her make her way around to each Fox, and talk in hushed tones.
Kevin smirked to himself as they went on to start the second half. Dan was on first as dealer, and his spited comments seemed to have set her aflame. Every possession she had was passed with aggressive annoyance to Kevin, who could have laughed if he wasn’t too busy trying to win their game. And to Kevin’s shock, both Matt & Aaron contained responses to their strikers trying to rile them up. Matt seemed to be struggling the most, especially when one of them made a comment about Dan.
Aaron kept tapping Matt’s racquet, reminding him to keep it in. Matt huffed and made sure his checks on the Jackal’s possession were borderline illegal. It seemed to help him diffuse his pent up anger instead of just starting unwarranted fights.
When Amira swapped on for Dan, and Renee on for Robin, the score had become 5-1 Foxes’ way. With the swap out, Kevin watched with narrowed eyes as Amira had a bizarre expression plastered across her face. Her brow was furrowed above her goggles, and she was — well, smiling. But it was insolent, brazen. She never came onto the court with such a cocky attitude. It was one Kevin always wore on court, but that’s because he knew he held this whirlwind sport in the palm of his hand. She was up to something with that smile, and he didn’t know whether it was going to be good or bad.
He very quickly found out why, and if he wasn’t so in tune to the game, he might have stopped and stared. Amira was one to use her stick to gain possession. She avoided the dirty work of body checks as much as possible, which always frustrated Kevin to no end. She was stubborn every time he told her to do it, because he knew it would improve her game play significantly. She normally just utilised her upper body strength and fancy twists of her racquet, but this game changed that.
When Sheena’s mark stole the ball from her net, she scowled and sprinted after her, but she swung too quick for Sheena to catch up, and it went to the Jackal dealer. He was barely two steps off his feet when Amira slammed him sideways with her shoulder so hard he lost balance and fell to the floor. She scooped up the ball from his dropped racquet and ran. Kevin distantly heard Matt laughing, but was too focussed on her. He caught the ball she rebounded, and with barely enough time, he flicked it to Sheena, who stepped around her backliner skillfully, and threw at the goal in the top right corner. Kevin nodded approvingly at Sheena when the goal lit up. She laughed gleefully, and nodded toward Amira.
“She needs to do that more often, that was fucking fantastic!”
She waved at Amira, who gave a thumbs up with her free hand, and when they played again, she managed to do another 4 successful body checks, with 2 of them resulting in assisted goals. Each slam was wonderfully calculated – low enough to ruin her opponent’s balance, but just hard enough to make sure they went down.
By the end of the game, the score was 7-2, an astounding win compared to how they ended last year. When the final whistle blew for the end of the game, the roar of the crowd could barely contain the pure triumph that vibrated throughout Kevin’s body.
He swirled around, staring at the stomping, clapping, cheering crowd. They were deafening, and Kevin peeled his helmet off, waving it around in the air. He put it down, and grunted when he realised someone had jumped onto him from behind. He quickly clung on, seeing that it was Amira. She wrapped one arm around his neck, hugging him tight and pumped her other fist in the air, laughing with joy as the crowd went crazy for it. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and she had practically become a backpack. She leaned down, yelling into his ear.
“Did you see my checks?! Did you see?!”
His chest barely contained his thumping heartbeat, the excitement trembling through him. But he didn’t want to catch himself frozen in the moment, thinking about himself holding her so close. They had never been in such proximity before. He saw Matt jog over with a huge grin, and put his hand out, waving toward the ground. Kevin understood and knelt down then as Matt went behind Amira. She squealed as Matt picked her up under her arms, putting her on Kevin’s shoulders. She giggled gleefully, holding on to him carefully, and Kevin wrapped his arms around her thighs. He strode around the court, Amira waving at the cheering crowd, riling them up even more.
Hearing her pure, unfiltered cheering, the roar of the fans, the smiles of his surrounding team — Kevin wished he could bathe in it forever. If only this happiness were a cloth to be stitched into the fibre of his being, everything would be so much easier.
The rest of the Foxes followed in line with Kevin, parading around and soaking in their victory. Eventually, Wymack waved for them to shake hands and come off. Amira stayed where she was on Kevin’s shoulders, the end of her 2 long plaits tickling his ears. She made every single Jackal player shake her hand whilst on top of Kevin’s shoulders, much to their displeasure. Sheena blew a kiss at Gorilla, who was red with fury. Renee led them all off the court and back to the changerooms. Amira reached up at some of the fans near the changerooms who were dangling over the edge of their seats, clapping away high fives. She happily touched people’s hands, thanking them for watching the game. Even Kevin reached up a hand to give high fives, and they all cheered ecstatically even when they got into the changerooms. Wymack was smiling ear to ear, and Neil was sitting beside Andrew, looking a little worse for wear but not as bad as he could have been.
Amira didn’t ask to be put down, and a part of Kevin didn’t want to. She was sweaty, but she was warm and soft too. He enjoyed his arms wrapped around her thick thighs, trying not to think too much about it. He turned his attention to Wymack, who began a speech. Dan and Robin stood either side of Kevin and held Amira’s hands happily.
“Foxes - great bloody game. This is what I am talking about, currently undefeated! We have a lot to work on. You lot –” he pointed at his backliners – ” need to work on your team work and getting the ball to my strikers. You let them get to you far too much this game.”
Nicky looked away woefully, pretending to faint at Coach ruining the good mood. Aaron rolled his eyes and gestured to Nicky.
“He makes it hard, and Matt just loves a fight. Not my fault.”
Matt scoffed and turned on Aaron, but Wymack held up a hand to silence them all.
“Enough. I don’t want to hear it. As for you Amira –”
He paused, and Kevin glanced up as best he could to see she had puppy dog eyes at Coach. Wymack wasn’t smiling, but a toothy grin did spread across his face slowly.
“You better play like that for the rest of this season, or I will kick you off the team. I knew you had it in you. Hiding those wonderful body checks from us all along. Keep it up, okay?”
She pressed her lips together, smiling shyly at him as the rest of the team clapped for her. She placed her hands on Kevin’s head, her restless fingers tapping against his scalp. She seemed far too comfortable up there, Kevin thought. But he found he didn’t quite mind. When Coach yelled at them to shower because they smelled like racoons, they all laughed and went off to the changerooms. Kevin squatted easily, and Amira hopped back off onto the floor, patting Kevin’s shoulders.
“You make a noble steed, Kevin Day. All I need to do is attach a carriage to you and we can bring everyone along.”
She laughed when he reached out to shove her, but she ducked and zipped off to the safety of the change rooms. He huffed, rolling his shoulders to reset them, before heading to the showers to wash off the sticky sweat that clung to him.
–
As much as Kevin greatly enjoyed the night of drinking after their win, he deeply regretted it when he forgot he was meant to be doing an essay with Amira.
She had picked him up at 9am, fresh as a spring daisy, with a pep in her step still from yesterday’s win. She hadn’t joined them last night to celebrate, as she had promised a catch up with her mother over video chat. Kevin was curious about her, she seemed a somewhat mystical figure in Amira’s life. He knew Amira spoke to her often, and cared for her deeply. She seemed to be an endlessly busy career woman, and he could tell it made Amira a little sad when she couldn’t come to games. He thought to ask her about it, but her whispered ranting in the library over their homework topic was clattering in his skull.
He didn’t bother to respond, only moaning into his folded arms, choosing to close his eyes instead. She persistently nudged him with their textbook until he paid attention to her. Another silent question. He didn’t think his eyes could roll that far back into his head when he finally looked up at her. He snatched the textbook and put it in front of him, a silent answer to her nagging. Instead of looking at the page, he closed it and used it as a rest for his folded arms, which he lay his head on top of.
“You are irritatingly needy. Stop it.”
She threw a grape at him across the table before finally shutting up and going back to her work. He sighed peacefully as he was finally left alone, and didn’t realise he had actually dozed off until someone prodded his shoulder from behind.
He blinked, looking up. It was an unknown student, handing Kevin a letter. Kevin took it slowly and frowned, asking who it was from. The girl didn’t know, only advising that it was given to her by another student. She shrugged and left for the library exit, and Kevin looked down at it. It was addressed to him, but nothing was familiar about it. Amira paid him no attention, as she was hunched over her paper, writing with her terrible scrawl. Kevin watched a moment before opening the letter, pulling out the contents.
He frowned in confusion as it was a typed note and a black and white image of a man Kevin didn’t know. He put it behind, and went back to the letter. There was only a small amount of text on it, which appeared to be a part of a poem:
But see, amid the mimic rout
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes! - it writhes! - with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.
An odd tingle erupted at the back of his mind. He read it over and over, the words lingering within a hair's width of his memory. He felt an ancient knowing of it, but could not place it. He stood and left Amira, taking the letter with him and typing the first line into the computer. When he hit enter on the search, his stomach bottomed out.
It was a poem by Edgar Allen Poe, ‘The Conquerer Worm’. He thought he was going to be ill. He stood quickly, logging off the computer and took the letter and the unknown man with him. He shoved them in his bag, Amira looked up, confusion knitted across her brow.
“You okay?”
She stared at him with those gentle eyes, and he wished he could fall into them. Into the safety of that sure gaze. But he wasn’t going to scare her with this - she had suffered enough with the other letters she had received. He nodded, muttering an excuse about being hungover and walked briskly out of the library. Where was he even going? He had no plan – he should find the girl who gave him the letter.
He didn’t know her name - Palmetto wasn’t a huge university by any means, but he didn’t know every student. She had long wavy hair, light brown skin, a nose piercing. She had on a Palmetto band shirt - he remembered that distinctly. He made his way to the music faculty, blindly thanking people he passed who congratulated him on last night’s game. But all he could think about was how next week would be hell - they were up against the Ravens for the first time this season, and they were planning something ugly.
He rushed around the music rooms in search of the girl. He asked anyone he saw if they knew her, and on his 6th ask, a guy with a beanie cap and flannel gave him a useful response.
“Yeah man - Isadora, mm? She’s at theatre three I think, prepping for band rally.”
Kevin thanked the guy and jogged off. He wasn’t familiar with this part of the university – music, theatre, production. It wasn’t his style. He did find it eventually, entering without knocking. It was a larger auditorium style theatre, with uncomfortable looking red seats and a huge, dusty stage. He saw Isadora sitting with a few of her bandmates, where they were cleaning their instruments. She appeared to be making a reed.
“Hey - Isadora? Do you know who gave you this letter?”
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, confused as to why an athlete was in their theatre space. The other people she was with fell silent and stared. He tried to be patient, and when she didn’t immediately answer, he held up the envelope she gave him. She ahh’d and nodded a bit, putting her attention back to her reed, carving at it slowly.
“Yes, yes, Harrison Lorne gave it to me. Not sure why, he just did.”
She shrugged, and Kevin resisted the urge to shake more answers out of her. He muttered a thanks and left, ignoring the rapid Spanish that ensued in his wake, and the fit of laughter that followed.
He vaguely knew of Harrison, he was in one of Aaron’s science classes, he was sure. He pulled out his phone and dialled Aaron, thinking better of it before hanging up. He shouldn’t involve the others – everyone would go on red alert, and he didn’t want the drama. He pulled out the photo of the man from his bag, staring at it with a frown. He definitely didn’t know who it was, but there was an odd familiarity to it. He had thick, dark hair, and sunken eyes. It contradicted the sunny smile he wore.
He sighed and put it back in his bag, unsure of how to find Harrison. He had to be on campus if he gave Isadora the letter. It was irritating that he was the one moving around like a headless chook. This is what they wanted. Confusion, unknowing. Fear.
He didn’t want to let it work, but something nagged in his gut that this was a warning for their upcoming game.
He spent the rest of the day trying to trace the letter back to its origins. It obviously had no return address, or postage stamp, which meant it must have been either printed out here at the university or given to a student to give to him. He ended up tracing back 4 people before giving up. How had it even gone through that many students? Each one had been given a random name of another student to give it to, until it got to Kevin. It was a stupid game of whispers he would never succeed at deciphering. Instead, he raced back to the library 5 minutes before it closed for the afternoon. He went to the librarian, and pulled out the photo. He didn’t think it would work, but he asked anyway.
“Do you know who this man is? Or know how I can um – find out?”
The woman manning the desk raised an eyebrow at him, pausing her organisation of returned books.
“It depends. If the man has been in the news or published articles or anything online, I could try to find him. I can photocopy it and put it into the search engine if you like?”
He nodded keenly, and she cocked her brows, taking the photo into her photocopier room. It took a few minutes, but once done, she came back with a name scrawled on the back of the image. She smiled warmly and nodded.
“Hope that helps – now go enjoy your Saturday night. The library is an awfully weird place for a sports student to be on a weekend afternoon.”
She shooed him, and he nodded, mumbling a thank you before hurrying out of the library. He sat on the stairs, flipping the picture over to read the name, and froze. Fuck.
It was Amira’s father. Nishit Choundury.
–
Kevin spent the next week debating what to do about the new letter. He scoured online everyday to see if recent news of Amira’s father would pop up, but it never did. It was only the articles from his arrest & subsequent trial. He found out more details than Amira had first told him, Andrew and Neil. And he rather wished he hadn’t.
The extent of what happened was more complex. The charges her father had weren’t just intertwined with the sex crimes, but also drug related. Her father had refused to give up the names of the people he had given his daughter to, his loyalty to them staying until the end. The lack of evidence in the sex crimes meant it was a relatively lower part of his sentence compared to what he had gotten for drug possession. Apparently it was a 25 year sentence he was handed. Amira was 21 now, and 14 when he was charged – so he would have been in prison for about 7 years now.
Apparently, her father was even offered reduced charges if he gave up names, but he didn’t take it. Because of her age, Amira was never shown in images of these articles, mostly her father and occasionally her mother. Amira was basically a carbon copy of her mother - she was a beautiful woman with glowing skin, silky long hair and rich eyes. The only thing he saw of Nishit Choundury in Amira was his curved nose.
He refused to read anything relating to what happened to Amira herself. That was for her and her only to share. He couldn’t believe it was in the public domain as it was. How was anyone ever meant to grow, escape their past when it was just sitting there, ready to haunt them at any given moment?
He decided then that he needed to make sure she had a chance against whatever it was the Ravens had planned. It meant protecting her. It wasn’t really in his nature to do that for other people. Not in this context anyways. But she was his investment in exy now. And he’d be damned if he let anything twist the path to her success. And realistically, if she succeeded, so did he. The more he invested into exy, the better players he brought around, the more influence he could have. And maybe that would be his ticket to stopping teams like the Ravens from existing. To have better protections for professional athletes.
This week was their game against the Trojans, and Kevin was actually excited about it. He was keen to play Jeremy on the court again, but knowing that Jean would be a part of it this time made him shrink inside. He and Neil knew how Jean played, so it was obvious to have the two of them against him. But it had been so long since he played Jean, and he was now in uncharted territory of not knowing Jean’s style anymore.
He knew Jeremy was working hard to transform Jean, to nurture the Raven out and build the Trojan in. It would be odd to see Jean in their colours in person. Kevin doubted red and yellow would suit him.
When Wednesday came around, Kevin and Amira had a history test that they needed to study for, and they had sacrificed sleep after their nightly training to study for it. Kevin didn’t care as much about his studies as he did his exy, but Amira made the mistake of saying she would get higher marks than him. And he would be damned if he let her be right. They had studied at Kevin’s dorm, and Andrew, Nicky and Neil all put bets on who would test better. They all bet against him, which resulted in a floor wrestle with the boys all sitting atop him.
He wasn’t sure when she obtained it, but Amira had started to carry a little film camera around. She flashed a photo of them all on top of him, and said she would personally give it to Coach once she got them developed. He was not looking forward to that.
The test ended up being only a slight variation of what he was expecting – the extent of influence that political puppeteering had in South-East Asia during the Cold War. It was an easy paper, especially when writing against the ongoing colonial mannerisms of the United States. He finished before Amira, glancing at her as she wrote in her terrible writing. He thought she should fail for that alone. Once the exam was over, the pair had the afternoon off much to their relief. She suggested they enjoy the sunny weather outside whilst it was still available. Getting to the end of October, it was starting to cool down, and any remnants of the sun had to be utilised. She led them both outside to a grassy hill near one of their buildings, plopping her bag down and sinking into the grass. It was on the longer side, soft and dry. He watched as other students seemed to have the same idea, lounging in small herds and soaking in the rays.
He leaned back on his palms, stretching his legs out and tilting his head back. The breeze was a calming, gentle touch against his skin. Amira poked him, and he sighed, glancing down at her. She had put her bag under her head as a pillow and laid back, now staring up at him. Her hair was spread behind her in soft waves. He raised an eyebrow expectantly.
“You disturbed my peace, so what do you want?”
She rolled her eyes and shrugged, staring at his face before turning her attention to the trees. The leaves were aging, crinkling and dying, fluttering away in various stages of decomposition. The hues were inviting, earthly and rich. How did dying things look so beautiful?
“What’s your favourite colour?”
He cocked a brow up, as if to ask if that was really what she wanted to say. He waited for her to justify, but she didn’t. She stared at him expectantly, reaching a finger up and poking his tattoo gently.
“I like green. Very specific though – spinach green, I think. That rich colour that no other food can really compare to. Not naturally, anyways. Or ocean green. Not that bluey green though, that dark one where you aren’t really sure there is a bottom beneath the surface. And your eyes. I’d like the recipe for that green, I think.”
The amount of words that came out of her mouth were blubbered in cohesion, but on her it was just – those little tentacles of her soul reaching out, sharing herself with the world. He tried his very best to ignore the last part of it, but she didn’t want to let it go.
“After we’ve won a game, I think your eyes change colour. The greenness seems to - brighten. Like there’s more green that has appeared with your success. Have you ever noticed that?”
He shook his head incredulously, feeling puzzled at this topic. He kept it even, because any show that he was going to entertain this conversation further would likely result in asking too many personal questions. He preferred to keep everything exy focussed.
“Do you think if you spent less time looking at my eyes that you wouldn’t have dropped that ball last week during the game?”
She scoffed then, faking offence and turned away from him, holding a palm up at him as if to make him stop being stubborn.
“Entertain me for once. I’ve gotten to know everyone in the team over the last couple of months except you. And Jack, but he sucks. You won’t let me in. And don’t say ‘oh all you need to know about me is related to exy’ because I know that isn’t true. I know you like history, architecture – and I’ve seen you staring at the photos in our textbooks. I suspect you might like photography. Or maybe art. I’m not sure. So tell me, what do you like, Kevin Day?”
He groaned, the sinking feeling of knowing she wasn’t going to let this go starting to cling to him like dense fog. He could rumble on about his short list, but right now all that came to mind was her long eyelashes, glossy hair, her soft, brown skin, the feeling of her thick thighs in his hands –
He frowned, quickly marking those thoughts as trespassing to his personal peace, and shoved them deep back into himself. He watched her fix her glasses before grabbing his own bag and putting it back on the grass, laying on his back beside her. He folded his hands over his stomach, and watched as Amira ripped up the grass, feeling it in her fingers and then discarding it, again and again and again.
“I do like history. I like the idea of travelling. I guess my favourite colour is yellow. I love architecture – and photography. I like some art, but it’s very specific. Because not all art is good art. And subjectivity in art is wrong, because there is some really fucking awful stuff out there.”
He went to continue but waited as Amira had started to laugh, hard and dorky, nodding in agreement with his statement. He bit his cheeks as he listened, wanting that sound to last forever. He side eyed her and she hushed quickly, nodding for him to continue. He opted for a bit of honesty.
“A lot of personal interests were really squashed when I was at Evermore. Business was compulsory. I managed to get to do history with Riko, like I told you the first day of class. Those days doing those classes were the only good memories I really have. That and Jean teaching me French.”
She sat bolt upright when he said that, and he flinched, eyes widening at her in alarm. He lifted his hands to ask what she was doing, but she was gaping in shock at him.
“Shut up – you speak French? I didn’t think you were smart enough for that.”
Offence coiled hot inside him but died as he watched her taunting smile grow. He sat up pushing his hair from his eyes. Her smile was dazzling as she stared at him, her hair falling and swaying in the afternoon breeze. His finger twitched to touch it, but he remained where he was.
“I also speak Japanese. I’m smarter than you not only in English, but French and Japanese. How does that make you feel?”
She raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, stroking her chin as if she had a long beard.
“I feel good knowing I’m smarter in English than you are in 3 languages combined. Come next week when we get our test results, the proof will be in the pudding.”
She grinned cheekily, and he reached a hand up, putting his palm flat against her whole face. He yawned boredly as her complaints became muffled against his hand.
“Sorry, can’t hear you over my supreme levels of intelligence.”
She laughed, and shoved his hand away, shaking her head at him. Her hair brushed his arm when he moved it back, and his brain suddenly seemed to disconnect from his body. His fingers collected some of the end strands on the way down, and he held it carefully in his fingers. It was more velvety smooth than he imagined, shining under the light sunlight. He rubbed it gently between her fingers. She froze, and when she did, he did too. He cleared his throat, dropping his hand quickly. He tried to ignore the pink in her cheeks, the tension that suddenly bubbled between them. Luckily, she saved it with a witty remark, but turned her eyes away.
“If you wanted hair care tips, you could have just asked.”
He rolled his eyes and felt the pressure of the moment release. He sighed and checked his watch, thankful that she changed topics and now started to ask him about his favourite animal. They stayed like that for a while, going back and forth. He didn’t have to ask questions – she volunteered everything, a guiding light in this blinding moment of normality. He hadn’t realised how long they had been talking until the sky started to transform. It went from blue, to pink and orange. Amira pulled her camera out and stood to snap a shot. When she was done, she turned it on Kevin. He stared at her without expression, screwing up his face in a laugh as she held a rude finger up at him out of nowhere.
She snapped the photo then, smiling to herself gleefully and he groaned that his stupidity had allowed that.
“That’s $5 a photo for you. I don’t come for free.”
She shook her head, tutting at him and held out a hand to pull him to his feet.
“No, the cost of you is enduring your rough coaching style and apathetic approach to life. That is insufferable enough without making me financially destitute, thanks.”
He furrowed his brows in mock anger, taking her hand and let her pull him up. They both held on a moment too long, and she smoothly slid her hand away, moving to pick up her bag, then throwing him his. He pressed his lips together, relenting a little more honesty of free will.
“Yellow.”
Her hair fluttered around as she turned back to him, some of it catching in her glasses. Tutting softly, he stepped up beside her and looked down the green, feeling distant and elevated. “Not bright though. Soft, like the inside of a lemon. Or a daffodil, a duckling. Like small bits of sun that doesn’t blind you.”
Staring at the side of his head, he allowed himself a side cutting glance, only to see the sun glowing down on her softened smile.
“I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”
He nodded in quick agreement, and although he was starving, he craved something else entirely. He watched her start to walk, and shoved every unearthly desire deep within himself before slowly following after her.
Being around her too much was dangerous. Every sturdy barricade he built was turning to jelly. That would ruin everything Kevin’s entire front to the world – his impassive, stoic, resigned walls. But he wasn’t so sure if it was such a bad thing to risk.
How on earth was 1 person managing to unravel everything he had worked for in the space of a few months?
He needed to get a damn grip.