The Foxhole Court

He set his standards impossibly high and tried for them with everything he had, and he didn't understand why others wouldn't do the same

"Morning, sunshine," Matt said with exaggerated cheer.
"Fuck you," Kevin said.
Dan yawned into her hand. "Glad to see you're still a morning person."
"Fuck you too."

He was something solid to lean against, something violent and fierce and unmoving. Neil couldn't remember what it felt like to have someone hold him up. It was terrifying and liberating all at once.

Neil Josten let his cigarette burn to the filter without taking a drag. He didn't want the nicotine; he wanted the acrid smoke that reminded him of his mother. If he inhaled slowly enough, he could almost taste the ghost of gasoline and fire. It was at once revolting and comforting, and it sent a sick shudder down his spine. The jolt went all the way to his fingertips, dislodging a clump of ash. It fell to the bleachers between his shoes and was whisked away by the wind.

Neil couldn't tell him the truth, so he said, "I'm not good enough to play on the same court as a champion."
"True, but irrelevant," a new voice said, and Neil stopped breathing.

Exy was a bastard sport, an evolved sort of lacrosse on a soccer-sized court with the violence of ice hockey, and Neil loved every part of it from its speed to its aggression.

"I'm not going to apologize for thinking you're being idiotic."
"Is your spine the spine of the righteous?" Andrew wondered. "Are you trying your best to step on my toes because you're feeling the tragic weight of the holier than thou?"

As soon as they left, Wymack stood in the aisle to face his team.
"All right," he said, then promptly forgot what he was saying when he got a good look at the back of the bus. "Damn it all to hell. Hemmick! You were supposed to wake them up ten miles ago."
"I don't want to die," Nicky said.
Dan tried to pass her laugh off as a cough. Wymack wasn't fooled, and the look he shot her as he stomped to the back of the bus was annoyed. Dan was undeterred and grinned at Renee. Curious, Neil halfturned in his seat to watch. Wymack went all the way to the last row, pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, and threw it at Andrew. Judging by the resounding thud, Andrew woke up as violently as always.
Wymack put his hand out in a demand. "Give it back."
Leather creaked as Andrew moved. Andrew sat up a couple seconds later with Wymack's wallet in hand.

"Hey, Pinocchio," he said without looking at Neil. The cheer in his voice was too mocking to be real, but Neil doubted anyone but the Foxes noticed. "Time to run. This one's for you."

"Are we going back?" Neil asked.
"When they're all drunk and cracker high and I'm off my meds? I'll be back in jail before you can say 'threat to society'. We'll wait until morning."