#interaction: casey

[foxespsu]

Location: Eden's Twilight Date: Friday, January 14 Time: Pre-Fight (open​)

It's the best birthday gift imaginable: not only a win, but one that lands them in the Championships. Casey had let yesterday pass quietly, content to just respond to their family's well wishes. They wouldn't have been able to celebrate anything the night before a game, especially not with so much riding on this rematch.

It was the right decision. Now, Casey can celebrate the win and turning another year older all at once—even if, really, they're happier about the game than being twenty-three. This was supposed to be the age they got drafted to the pros. That plan fell apart in Ohio, years ago, but usually it still hurts to think about it.

Tonight, though, it's hard to feel sad about missed opportunities. It's almost viscerally satisfying to win as a Fox, because it isn't a foregone conclusion—that was part of what Casey liked about the Buckeyes, really. The hunger. Back when they had options, Casey turned down the Big Three for a shot at being someone's star. It helped that everyone on the Buckeyes was so desperate to win too, to dethrone one of the Big Three and replace them.

The Foxes aren't there, but they fought like hell tonight. They're going to the Championships, when no one expected that from them. The win is always sweeter when you know you've earned it.

Casey's at the bar now, mumuring thanks when the bartender hands them a new beer with the lid already popped off. Eden's is as crowded as ever, but with many of them unprepared for the dress code here—Casey included— the Foxes stick out. It's easy to spot another Fox at the bar, and Casey tips their beer towards them in a cheers.

"How are you feeling?" Casey says, loud enough to be heard over the music. "Rough game." But it's said with a smile, because who cares what the game was like? They're the ones who won their way into the Championships. The adrenaline from that hasn't faded yet. "God, I can't wait to play in the Championships again."

[foxespsu]

Location: Pizza Restaurant Date: Friday, September 24 Time: Post game (open)

After only a year on the Foxes, it already feels strange to be celebrating with a cup full of Diet Coke instead of something stronger—although really, if Casey's honest, it might just feel strange to be celebrating at all. They won't take it for granted, even if a pizza party with parents feels decidedly more high school than undergrad.

Or, at least, what Casey imagines high school to be like, if you aren't off at boarding school. Everyone there was pretending to be a lot more grown up than they truly were, when Casey looks back on it—Casey included.

One familiar thing, though, is that Casey's mom isn't in the small crowd of parents and family members here. But she texted them, evidently finding time to watch the game before her night shift at the grocery store, and their sister Kennedy did too. Not questions asking how are you, awkwardly dancing around the fears that the answer would be too complicated—or that Casey would plain lie about it—but just simple congratulations from both their family members.

It's nice, honestly. Despite how hard Casey fought to find anywhere but the Foxes, they can admit now that there's a steadiness they feel here that they haven't before.

Casey glances up, distracted from their thoughts, and scoots their plate over to make room for another Fox at the table. "There's space here, if you want," they say. "How's the free food treating you?"

[foxespsu]

continued from [x] @go-foxes

"They'll be our teammates again on Saturday," Casey says, waving their hand dismissively. Scrimmage or no, Casey plans to play on Friday. They've got a summer's worth of cobwebs to shake out, and what better way than—as Glory says—a full sixty on the court?

Of course, unlike a real game, the outcome won't decide anything. That doesn't mean it isn't important to the season, though. No doubt, Friday's match will give Glory and Claudia a good idea of where to start this year. They've got four new faces on the court—most of them are on Glory's team right now.

If Casey's honest, they wondered if it would feel strange coming back to new leadership this semester. Or maybe worried is a better word than wondered. After all, they were ambitious once. They'd dreamed of taking up the mantle of captain on the Buckeyes—told themself that their sacrifices would be worth it. They'd wanted an illustrious resume; instead, the ERC suspended them.

But if they're envious of Glory and Claudia these days, it's easy to brush aside. Either of them will do a better job than Casey ever could.

And while there's no pretending it never happened, Casey doesn't like who they became with all that ambition. They'd rather be here, looking forward to playing at Glory's side. Casey knows this pairing makes more sense than breaking up Colin and Sterling, but it's still nice that Glory chose them to be her partner.

"Don't worry, I'm ready," Casey promises her now, with a grin. And, while Glory's hardly new, having played on this team longer than Casey, she's got a fancy new title this year—"gotta make our new vice cap look good during her debut."

[foxespsu]

Location: The Court Date: Friday, May 28th Time: Evening, post Championships viewing party (open)    

The Buckeyes take gold—and it isn’t that Casey’s surprised, necessarily, after the year they’ve had. Even when Casey was a Buckeye, they knew in their bones that the Buckeyes would take the Championships someday. They just didn't expect it to be without them. Back then, they wanted to be the one making the victory speech.

Casey watches them win from the couch instead. Those used to be their teammates; their friends. Now, Casey hasn’t spoken to any of them—unless they want to count Derek at the banquet—all year. They should be happy for the Buckeyes, they want to be happy, and on some level, they are.  

But Wymack’s pity pizza doesn't soften their jealousy, or the way it dovetails into—or is masked as—concern either. Casey knows what winning no matter what did to them, and they doubt that this year’s victory will take the edge off Ohio. Next year, their old team will need to defend their title. Even if Casey’s the only one weak enough to turn to doping, the Buckeyes will run themselves ragged. 

And really, they’re a hypocrite for even worrying, because the underlying thought as they watch Captain Levi Cross, as they know full well that Levi’s graduating this year, is i could’ve been captain. They don’t even want that anymore, but they used to. 

So. Put it all together, it’s an unpleasant mess in their head.

As Levi finishes his speech, Casey stands, needing space. It’s muggy outside, as May slides into June, but the air still feels fresher away from the television and the post-Championships coverage. They linger outside by the door for longer than necessary, lost in thought, and accidentally in the wrong place as someone else steps out too. “Sorry,” Casey says, stepping back just in time to narrowly avoid being hit by the door as it swings open. “I’m, uh.” They pause, a short uncomfortable laugh escaping them. “Well, I’m picking an inconvenient place for my pity party.” They clear their throat, casting about for something, anything, else to say. “I guess I should’ve put my money on the Buckeyes.”

[foxespsu]

Location: The Foxhole Court Date: Wednesday, August 25th  Time: Afternoon, after practice (open)

It’s good to be back. Even better to have something like the scrimmage to look forward to. It’s a game, yes, but one without the usual pressure—doubly so when they’re debuting four new Foxes this Friday. Hopefully, all eyes will be on the freshmen, and Casey can just play. Win or lose, it’s just for fun. It’s been a long time since that was their focus in Exy. 

After a summer with minimal practice, the past few weeks have felt like bringing their body back online. Despite the aches and pains, it’s a relief to play again. On good days, Casey never feels as connected to their skin as they do when playing Exy. Of course, the reverse is true on bad days, especially when they’d pumped themself full of steroids and pain pills. That was easier to do when they leaned into that disconnect—not a disconnect with their body, necessarily, but with the way everyone else viewed it. 

In that respect, there are fewer bad days on the Foxes. This team wasn’t Casey’s first choice—Wymack was, quite literally, their last choice—but Charlie was right all those months ago. Casey’s adjusting. And with that, they can see that there’s something here, something special they wouldn’t have on other teams. Wymack didn’t know Casey at their best, only at their worst, and he offered them this space, anyway. 

Casey’s not sure if all that’s enough to make up for that humiliating string of losses last year, but it’s a start. And anyway, it’s a new year. As a team, they have another shot. Casey has another shot at proving themself. 

They’re still sweaty from practice, tired but smiling. “Are you looking forward to Friday?” Casey asks, reluctant to leave the court behind. All that’s waiting back in their dorm is homework, the proof that it isn’t only the Exy year that’s started again. “It should be fun, right?” 

[foxespsu]

Location: Myrtle Beach Date: Thursday, April 8th Time: Night (open)

Nearly all of their vacations have been with teammates rather than their own family. It’s a long tradition, going all the way back to high school. As a result, Casey’s never been the sort of person to bring home souvenirs. It feels like it would be almost cruel, coming back to their crowded house, their hometown that seems to trap people, and flaunt the kitschy shit they purchased when traveling on someone else’s dime. 

Maybe it doesn’t make a difference though; their whole family knows Casey’s life is different, even if that’s taken on a different meaning since Casey collapsed in Ohio. Casey still feels like there’s something to salvage, but they don’t think anyone’s envious of their life now. Even still, none of their siblings will get to spend spring break on the beach. 

They haven’t spent much time at any of Myrtle Beach’s touristy shops then, despite the amount of waterfront that’s dedicated to shops and restaurants. The area’s crowded even now, despite the warmth slowly fading now that the sun’s long set. 

That might have to do with the promised fireworks show though. Casey doesn’t have money to spare on stickers and magnets emblazoned with Myrtle Beach, nor any desire to: but it’s free to wander through the shopping areas, just like it’s free to steal space on one of the bridges and look out over the waterline as they wait for the first fireworks to explode into the sky. 

It’s crowded, but maybe they should’ve expected that. Palmetto can’t be the only school on spring break, and there are plenty of people around them. Even without moving from their spot, Casey can see college students all the way to young kids with their families. It means Casey feels almost obligated to call out when they see one of their teammates, waving to catch their attention. By now, most of the decent spots are claimed.  

“If you’re here for the fireworks show too, I think I’ve got a good view,” they say, nodding out towards the water. Even without fireworks, the lights from the shopping area reflect back at them. “Nowhere to sit, but you can lean up against the railing. That’s better than nothing, right?”

[foxespsu]

Location: Banquet Date: Saturday, December 19th Time: Evening, right after dinner (open​)

Everything here looks familiar, even under the lights and the fake snow. It’s impossible not to obsess over it—all the way from the back of the room, where they’ve been neatly sectioned off with the other Foxes. Out of sight, out of mind, proven by the way none of the Buckeyes will even look over at them. Their position at the Foxes’ table makes it easy to see the Buckeyes though, watching as their old teammates whisper, laugh, openly celebrate their number one spot tonight. They’ve earned it. Casey knows that. In another world, one where Casey managed to hold it together their sophomore year, they’d be up there too.

But they aren’t. 

They’ve felt like shit from the moment the bus pulled up in Ohio, but somehow, it’s still so, so much worse when their old head coach stands up in front of everyone for his speech with the ERC representative. Aside from the phone call breaking the news that Casey would be released from their contract after all, Casey hasn’t spoken to any of their old coaches in over a year. Somehow, seeing him up there still brings back that old mess of guilt, the gut-deep feeling that Casey needs to be better, do better, say thank you for the months they were allowed to play as a Buckeye even when it ended so horribly.

They didn’t take those pills for their mind. The steroids made them strong, the opioids kept any aches and side effects at bay, and the combination kept them on the court long after they should have been detoxing on the bench. They would have argued, before their year long suspension, that any addiction was purely physical. Like that meant it didn’t count, somehow. Tonight though, they almost miss the brain fog. On bad days, it made everything feel surreal. Dreamlike, almost. And it’d be nice, actually, to let tonight pass by like a dream.

They won’t though. Can’t, actually. Wymack wouldn’t let Casey cheat a drug test, even if they wanted to. They’re sober now, with everything that entails. 

They didn’t even drink at the last banquet, even though they could’ve. It feels like they owe the ERC complete sobriety at these events, to cancel out those character issues. Keep their head down, stay away from anything even remotely scandalous, and maybe everyone will just—forget about their freshmen and sophomore year. 

It hasn’t worked so far. Tonight, when they’re back in their old court with a new team, they feel that scrutiny worse than before. If Casey does anything newsworthy tonight, it’ll be a great headline. Casey Hendrix freaks out back on their old home court.

They check the clock. Only five minutes have passed since the last time they looked. “You’d think the Buckeyes would’ve wanted the reporters up there with them,” Casey says, trying—and failing—to sound amused instead of bitter. At least now, with the court transforming from a dining hall to a dance floor, the reporters might spread out too. “Or that Ohio would spring for better catering,” they add, for the sake of complaining. “I know they’ve got the budget for it.”

[foxespsu]

Location: Downtown Palmetto Date: Saturday, December 5 Time: Afternoon (open)

It’s been nearly a full semester now. Time is simultaneously flying and going by at a snail’s pace. Either way, it feels like Casey can claim the title of Fox for real now that they’ve got almost an entire season under their belt. Because the Foxes only have one game left this year. No matter what happens next semester in the Class I world, it won’t involve the Foxes. Their season is nearly over. 

And, frankly, there’s a very real chance they’ll make it through their season without a win, which feels like a bad joke. It isn’t, of course. Unfortunately. With that comes the possibility that Casey might go to the banquet with nine consecutive losses under their belt. The Eagles aren’t exactly a challenging opponent, but, well. Neither are the Foxes.

As image conscious as their old team was, Casey’s never worried much about what they wore to the banquets. It was important to look professional, sure, but that was easily achieved with the basics. What mattered far, far more than their appearance at the banquet was their performance on the court.

They don’t have a winning streak to turn to now. Somehow, that turns into the idea that they should at least look like they’ve got their life together when they visit Ohio later this month. Somehow, that thought turns into them wanting something that their old teammates haven’t seen before—like, having a different used suit will make their old teammates think oh, maybe Casey’s life isn’t a complete shitshow without us after all. 

All that to say they’ve been saving up. It’s a ridiculous idea, but their scholarship covers their gear and they didn’t fly home for Thanksgiving. That’s how they find themself here, wandering through downtown Palmetto with the name of some thrift store plugged into their phone’s GPS. It keeps taking them in circles though, around and around a town that really shouldn’t be big enough to get lost in. They’ve been here for one semester, but they haven’t explored beyond the court, the dorms, Eden’s.

By the time they see a familiar face, they’ve been lost long enough to flag them down. “Do you know if there’s a Goodwill around here? Or is my phone leading me on a wild goose chase?”