Reading the tkm and tsc chapters that overlap back to back is so funny. On one hand you have Neil all like "oh yeah it's all starting to come up Neil" and on the other you have Jean like "I am a prisoner suffering a fate worse than death"
Neil Josten lets Andrew's his cigarettes burn to the filter without taking a drag. He hates vegetables. He knows all the places you can shoot a man without killing him. He doodles fox paws on his homework. He's not scared of knives or violence or the yakuza. He is scared of cellphones and therapists and his own reflection. His favourite colour is gray. He got told he couldn't play exy with a bloody nose so he sniffed back the blood until they let him. He doesn't like movies or loud music. He hitchhiked halfway across South Carolina by pretending to be a sociology student. He gets sad when Kevin watches exy without him. He wishes he had his mother's patience instead of his father's temper. He's brilliant at manipulation. He's stupid on purpose. He was every inch a lie but his friends made him into someone real. He doesn't wear a jacket to the roof when it's cold because he knows Andrew's body heat will keep him warm. He thinks the hardest thing he's ever had to do was opening a tub of ice cream after kissing his boyfriend and not like, all the torture he's been through. Nobody is doing it like him
brainrot is hitting hard. i reread too many times already and im desesperate for content. if i can, without smut or not smut centric would be awesome, here are some of my own recs as i know im not the only one in this situation (a lot of relationships, both rom and gen, different lenghts and completation status, we dont discriminate here, tho you can see my obvius preference for some characters)
odd eye
a reddit love story
hope was a dangerous, disquieting thing
Oh love, I'm sorry if I smothered you
where the wind can exist
Kevin & Wymack's Ultimate Road Trip Playlist
part time soulmate, full time problem (rooftop gays)
I hope to god read-more cuts work on mobile, if not I am so SO sorry
a couple very disorganized and not very good photos from LA
USC campus featuring Tommy Trojan & Traveler
Campus bookstore and its very very red shirts, Lyon fitness center w the adjacent aquatics center
DINOSAURS
A wretched shot of Expo Park where I have crammed the Gold Court
Westfield Culver City (mall) which in 2007 was named Fox Hills according to wiki
BEACH (fuck the beach)
knitting tutorial made by a twenty-something knitting influencer: 18 min long, 12 of those minutes being the intro and a sponsor plug, they show the first few steps of the tutorial at the slowest speed known to man, they show the most important steps at a neck-break speed, they stop every five seconds to talk about what they just did, 40,000 comments filled with questions ranging from insightful to “how do i knit”, filmed with a camera that costs more than a car, the tutorial is incorrect.
knitting tutorial made by a seventy-something grandmother: two min long, filmed 17 years ago, shows you what you want with the skilled patient hands of a beloved deity, made with the world’s shittiest camera, the best video on the fucking internet, four comments and 30 views, you lose the video and never find it again.
In the predawn light, Edgar Allan wasn’t much to look at.
On paper it wasn’t far behind Palmetto State in terms of enrollment and campus size, but whereas Palmetto State was built on sprawling land with low buildings and open lawns, Edgar Allan had taken a compact, vertical approach. That wasn’t to say the architecture wasn’t to be admired; even Renee, who had no eye for such things, could see the meticulous and ostentatious care put into the school’s appearance. A pretentious coffin, Jean had called it a month ago, when Renee asked after it. Fanciful and grim, she’d thought then, but now she understood.
Her phone hummed in her hand, but Renee finished her slow sweep of the area before looking down at it. At this hour it would only be one person: she’d kept Stephanie up all night, needing another pair of eyes to guide her and lay the groundwork for this reckless stunt. Their call lasted most of the five-hour drive here from the cabin. Later Renee would apologize for the hours of lost sleep, and Stephanie would brush away her guilt and concern with the same easy care she always did. Now was too soon for any such kindness.
“It’s sent,” Stephanie’s text said.
Renee held down until a heart appeared and slid off the car to her feet. Gravel crunched beneath her shoes as she went for the front door. There was an actual knocker on the door, but it wasn’t likely to get her far. Renee put her thumb to the doorbell instead. The carved wood muffled most of the noise, but she heard the distant tones echoing down the hall. Renee let them fade, then pressed again. Two seconds later, again. And again. And again.
It took a few minutes, but at long last there was a sharp clack of the locks snapping out of place. Louis Andritch yanked open the door in a half-undone bathrobe, looking more like a harried professor than a campus president.
“Yes?” he demanded. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Jean Moreau is dying,” Renee said.
Andritch stared at her like she was speaking a foreign language, mouth still half-open on an abandoned tirade. She kept her stance neutral and her hands loosely folded in front of her as she waited for him to finally clue in on what she’d said.
“Excuse me?” he finally managed. “What did you say to me?”
“Jean Moreau is dying,” Renee said again, with an unhurried calm that ate away at her heart. Lashing out at Andritch prematurely would tilt this entire fiasco against her, she knew, but without Stephanie’s steady voice in her ear she had nothing to keep her fear at bay. Everything hinged on getting to Jean. If she could just do that, nothing and no one could stop her. This was the only part that Renee couldn’t control.
Renee held Andritch’s gaze as she said, “Exy team, your perfect Court backliner. He is dead or dying as we speak, and I need you to take me to him.”
“Listen,” Andritch said, putting a hand out like he could ward off anything else Renee had to say. “I thank you for your concern, Miss…?” She held out her student ID and driver’s license, but he only gave them a quick glance. “If there was a problem with one of my teams, my staff would have already informed me. I assure you I will look into it, but—”
Renee saw the door start to close and moved into the doorway to catch it. “Mr. Andritch,” she said, in as pleasant a tone as she could manage, “I drove through the night for the slim chance of saving his life. I would prefer you escort me to Castle Evermore now, but if you would rather wait until your school makes the morning news that is your choice.” He frowned at her, not following, but Renee didn’t wait to be asked. “An article is queued to send to a half-dozen sites, and the author is prepared to give Kathy Ferdinand the scoop for her morning show.”
“Where are you even getting this information?” Andritch demanded, and Renee tapped through her phone with her free hand to send a short X out. “These are some serious accusations you are leveling at me, young lady, and I do not appreciate being strongarmed.”
“I would rather not do this,” Renee said. “We both know how much money is riding on championships this year regardless of the outcome. Our schools have too much to gain by seeing this through to the end. But I will not sacrifice Jean. Help me save him, and we can both forget this conversation ever happened. Please.”
Andritch’s phone started ringing before she was finished. He ignored her in favor of answering it with a harried, “Yes?” He tried again to close the door, but Renee braced it with a hand and foot. He fixed her a warning look she wasn’t cowed by. “Yes, hello? Can you give me just a—”
Andritch went still and calm as he listened, and Renee stared him down as Stephanie went up one side of him and down the other. She counted seconds between his “This is highly irregular” and “What proof do I have that this is not some cockamamie prank” protests, and they added up to so many minutes of wasted time Renee was tempted to leave him here.
The first plan had been to bypass Andritch entirely and go straight to Evermore. Stephanie had talked her down from that, careful not to ask how Renee would circumvent the security system there. They needed Andritch on their side. They needed a credible witness. Without him they had nothing. Even if she could get to Jean on her own—they cannot stop me, Mom—how would she keep him? Renee knew Stephanie was right, just as she knew the nearest hardware store wouldn’t open for another hour. She was not above breaking into it, but the consequences would hurt them all in the long run.
At last Andritch hung up. There was a sour look on his face that didn’t match the fear in his eyes, and Renee saw the tension in his imperious gesture to enter his front hall. The what if had taken hold; whether Andritch was more worried about his student or his school’s reputation she did not know or care so long as she got the desired results. Renee stepped in with a polite “Thank you” and stood off to one side so he could close and lock the door again.
Andritch ignored her in favor of making another call. “Coach Moriyama, this is Louis. I need to have a meeting with one of your Ravens this morning, Jean Moreau.” He listened for a moment, and his eyebrows went up in surprise. “New York? Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Of course, family must come first. You have my condolences for your loss. Yes, of course. Yes, I can reschedule, it’s not that pressing. We can discuss it when you are back in town.”
Force, then, Renee thought wearily, but then Andritch hung up and pointed at her. “Do not leave this spot. I am going to get dressed and call security.”
And check his email, most likely, because Stephanie would have sent him a preview of her page-long exposé. Abby had reluctantly loaned them photographs from Kevin’s first night with the Foxes, leery of betraying Kevin’s trust by releasing them but trusting Renee and Stephanie to win Andritch over before they were forced to go public.
Andritch’s phone rang again before he was halfway up the stairwell. “Hello? Coach Wymack, you said?”
The rest of the conversation was muffled by distance. Renee hummed quietly to herself so she wouldn’t ask him to perhaps be a bit more urgent about the situation, and then her phone buzzed against her fingers. She opened it to a query from Stephanie and tapped out a quick update. She didn’t mean to click over to Jean’s message next, but a second later it was staring up at her.
Kengo is dead, first. And then: Thank you.
Two words that meant nothing, that meant everything, when just a few days prior Neil had offered Andrew a threadbare smile and Thank you, you were amazing. before getting ripped out of their lives with violent force. Thank you, goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.
Renee closed her phone and squeezed it until her knuckles ached. She looked toward the stairs again. She wasn’t sure if a “Hurry” or “I will meet you at the stadium” would make it out of her first, but then Andritch came down the stairs so fast it was a wonder he didn’t tilt forward and fall flat on his face. Renee made a note to gift Abby a spa day as soon as this was over.
“You will follow my car,” Andritch said, snatching his keys off their hook with such force he nearly pulled the rack off the wall as well. He got the door and shooed her out, and Renee went for Andrew’s car with long strides. Andritch needed another moment to field another call, but he pulled his car door closed so hard Renee heard it over the Maserati’s engine. Finally, finally Andritch got on the road, and Renee pulled out behind him.
Because Castle Evermore doubled as the home court for the national team, it was set a short drive from the rest of campus. Renee had never seen it before, but it was hard to miss the imposing building with its spired corners. There was no color on it; from the foundation to the towers it was painted a forbidding solid black.
Pretentious coffin, she silently agreed, and then, But not yours.
The entire thing was surrounded by a tall fence lined with barbed wire. Andritch passed a half-dozen gates before slowing to a stop at one, and he leaned out his window to tap away at a keypad. The gate remained closed, and Andritch tried again. After a few attempts he got out of his car, like somehow the angle of his arm was to blame for this. Renee assumed he had few reasons to come out this way, but that he hadn’t secured the codes on the drive over was frustrating.
Movement in her rearview mirror had her glancing back as an unfamiliar car pulled up behind her. The driver’s door opened, and she saw enough lettering to guess it was campus security. Perhaps Andritch’s incompetence was just show, then, a means of stalling her until he could eject her from campus. She relaxed her grip on the steering wheel and waited for the guard to try her door, but he went past her without slowing. Andritch got out of his way to let him have a go at it, but he had no more luck than Andritch had. After two attempts, the guard had no choice but to phone his superiors.
Renee glanced past them at the fence. She gauged the height and tugged idly at her jacket, wondering if it was thick enough to protect her from the barbed wire along the top. Likely not, but before she could commit to trying it out the gate finally rattled open. The guard went jogging past again so he could get back in his car, and the three drove into the Ravens’ guarded lot at last.
The spots closest to the stadium were all taken by a line of identical black cars, so they double-parked behind them. The security guard sent a curious look at Renee as she joined him and Andritch at the door, but he was too busy trying to get them into the Nest to ask questions. Unsurprisingly he needed to call in for this access code as well, and he held the door open for both of them when he managed to get it unlocked.
Renee expected to find a hallway; what she saw was a dark stairwell leading down. Red lighting on the ceiling did nothing to chase away the shadows. Renee was tempted to ask Andritch if he had honestly signed off on this thinking it was a good idea, but he looked just young enough she assumed he’d inherited this madness. Andritch led them down without comment or hesitation, so Renee trailed after him. One more door awaited them at the bottom, but the guard hadn’t bothered to hang up his call and he called out a code to Andritch from the rear.
If Renee had expected the Nest to be an improvement, she was immediately and sorely disappointed. The rooms they passed through in search of a stray Raven were spacious, but the ceilings were too low and the entire thing was done in Raven black and red. It was a minor blessing that these ceiling lights were normal, but whoever installed the bulbs had chosen a weaker wattage that let shadows collect in all the corners.
Renee keenly understood why the Ravens spent so much time on the court, if this was their only other option. She had been here for only twenty seconds, and she was ready to never come here again. Jean had told her the Ravens only left the Nest for away games and classes, and she wasn’t sure if that made this better or worse: she couldn’t imagine coming back to this pit willingly, but the thought of being trapped here almost every hour of the day turned her heart cold.
Raucous laughter led them to a kitchen at last, and the conversation died when Andritch stepped inside. Renee looked past him to the four Ravens gathered around a square table. She had one moment to note their identical black clothes and another to take in their stunned expressions before one got up from the table with lethal intent.
“Who the fuck—”
“Your campus president,” Andritch cut him off. “I am here to see Moreau. Where is he?”
The four exchanged baffled looks before volunteering, “He’s in Red Hall.”
“Show me,” Andritch said.
No one seemed in a hurry to obey, but after a pointed, “You’re already up,” from one of the Ravens at the table, the first man scowled and crossed the room. He put a finger in Renee’s face as soon as he reached them.
“You’re a Fox,” he said. “You don’t belong here.”
She was idly impressed he recognized her so easily, but considering how sour things were between the teams now perhaps it was to be expected. “Neither do any of you.”
“Right now,” Andritch said before the Raven could respond.
He settled for giving her an ugly look and pushing her roughly out of his way. Andritch snapped at him for his aggression as he followed, but Renee let it go in one ear and out the other. Signage on the wall pointed out the directions to Red and Black Halls, and they went down the one that would lead them to Jean. Despite the name, there was no more abundance of color here than there had been anywhere else. Most of the doors they passed were open, but Renee only spared a couple glances at the dark bedrooms.
Finally their unwilling guide stopped in a doorway and hit the side of his fist against the frame. “Andritch is your problem now,” he said to whoever was inside, and he flicked a last annoyed look at the president in question. “Zane is Jean’s roommate. He’ll find him for you. I’ve only got ten minutes left of lunch before I’m due on the court, so I’m leaving.”
“Your name first,” Andritch said.
“Williams,” the man said. “Brayden. Striker, number nineteen. Done here?”
“For the moment,” Andritch said, with a tone that said this attitude was going to dearly cost Brayden when Andritch could spare enough time for him. Renee was expecting his shove as he went back down the hall the way they’d come, and she kept her feet planted so he couldn’t knock her over. She didn’t spare him another thought but followed Andritch to the doorway.
Identical beds were set against opposite walls, with two nightstands and tiny desks between them. Only one man was inside, and he wasn’t Jean. Renee glanced toward the empty half of the room and was surprised to see Jean had decorations up. Postcards were pinned to the walls, and the top of his nightstand was littered with either stickers or magnets. The urge to study his precious possessions was as fleeting as it was inappropriate, and Renee forcibly returned her attention to the greater problem: Jean wasn’t there.
“—he is?” Andritch was asking.
Zane didn’t answer immediately, but the look that crossed his face told Renee everything she needed to know. The Ravens they’d met in the kitchen seemed more annoyed and bewildered by this intrusion than anything; Zane’s hesitation now was a deeper understanding. He knew exactly why they’d come. Renee assumed he had a better vantage point for Jean’s ongoing trauma as his roommate.
“He’ll be with Riko,” Zane said at last. “They’re partners.”
“I don’t care whose partner he is,” Andritch said. “Someone is going to find him for me.”
Zane got up from his desk but sent a long look at Renee. “She shouldn’t be here.”
Andritch snapped his fingers to get Zane’s attention. “That is not your call. Move it.”
Zane led them to Black Hall. Another dormitory, Renee realized, with only one door closed at the far end. Zane knocked, listened, and knocked again. He checked his watch, tipped his head back to think, and said, “First shift, but what day is it? They might be finishing up on the court right now. Come on.”
As soon as he stepped past her, Renee went to the door. The knob turned easily under her hand. For one moment she was surprised at Riko’s boldness, that he genuinely trusted people to stay out of his space out of some semblance of respect. Then she had the door open, and the sight waiting for her erased every thought from her mind.
Zane caught her arm to haul her back. Renee didn’t even feel his skin under her knuckles when she put everything behind her fist. Zane wasn’t expecting it and wasn’t at all braced for it, and he nearly took Andritch down with him as he was thrown back.
The guard moved to intervene, but Renee was in the room and out of reach before he could get his hands on her. She let their outraged demands wash over her and was only distantly aware of how abruptly the shouting stopped when they followed her into Riko’s room. The only thing that mattered was the body on Riko’s floor.
Not a body, Renee thought fiercely, and willed it to be true, but how could it be true when Jean looked like this? That Riko had just left him here like this was almost as horrifying as the state he was in, and she was trembling as she knelt on the ground by his head. She took five seconds to calm herself to stillness before reaching for him, and she pressed her fingers to his bruised throat in search of a pulse. The relief it sent through her was almost sharp enough to bite away her grief, and Renee sent up a quick and desperate prayer of thanks.
“Jean,” she said softly, then louder: “Jean. Can you hear me?”
“Good god above,” the security guard finally said. “Is he—”
“Alive,” Renee said, and was just mad enough to add, “For now.” She looked toward the men standing across from her: the horrified guard who hadn’t signed up for this before he had his morning coffee, the Raven who looked uncomfortable but not surprised or upset, and Andritch, whose blank-faced horror could have been for his mangled student but was just as likely for his crashing career.
“What happened here?” Andritch demanded.
Zane lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Rough scrimmage, maybe?” At the foul look Andritch sent him, he scowled and looked away. “I don’t know, man. He hasn’t been my partner in a year now.”
“I am taking him home,” Renee said. “Help me get him to my car.”
Andritch didn’t move. “We need to call a doctor.”
“Josiah lives on campus,” Zane volunteered. “I’ve got his number saved.”
“He is coming with me,” Renee said.
“You can’t have him.” Zane flicked her a venomous look. “He belongs here.”
That he was angrier over her intrusion than had what happened to his own teammate shook Renee to the core, and for one frightening moment she felt all the years of anger management and therapy start to coil undone. Maybe Zane saw something change on her face, because he took a half-step back from her and tensed for a fight.
“You cannot stop me,” Renee said, in a tone far steadier than she felt. “If you try, I promise you will regret it. Mr. Andritch, you know the terms for my discretion.”
“Now listen,” Andritch started, but there was more uncertainty than bluster in his voice. If he actually had a coherent thought to follow that, he couldn’t seem to get it out. When Renee flicked him a hard look he was staring down at Jean’s broken, bloody form. “I don’t know if we can even safely move him. It would be best to get someone here first to make sure he’s stable. Josiah, you said?” he asked Zane.
“Head nurse,” Zane said, digging his phone out of his pocket.
“I left my team nurse at the hotel before coming over here,” Renee lied as she pulled out her own phone. She hated making Jean a spectacle, but she knew she needed evidence. She took a few pictures of his bloodied, broken face. “I can send these to Kathy Ferdinand for her morning show, or I can delete these in the parking lot. Give me one Raven, or I will take them all.”
“I don’t appreciate your tone, young lady,” Andritch said. She half-expected him to try intimidating her to silence, but perhaps he knew it was useless. He could try to confiscate her phone and throw her off-campus, but she’d set too many pieces in motion already. She didn’t technically need Jean or these photos to destroy his school and he knew it. The best he managed was, “Let’s not jump to any rash action.”
Jean’s fingers twitched against the carpet as their voices finally started to rouse him. Renee carefully peeled his hair out of the caked blood on his face and smoothed careful knuckles over his temple.
“Hey,” she said, softening her tone immediately. “Jean, can you hear me? We’re going to move you just in a moment. I’m sorry, but it’s going to hurt. It’s going to really hurt, and I can’t stop that. I need you to bear it a little longer, okay?”
At long last Andritch chose his side with a tense, “Let’s get him out of here.”
The guard dragged Zane with him as he approached, and Renee moved out of their way. It took them a moment to figure out how they were supposed to get Jean off the floor. He didn’t stir at the feel of their hands on him, but as soon as they hoisted him off the carpet, he made a wretched noise in the back of his throat that had Renee’s eyes stinging.
“It’s okay,” she promised him, unsure if he could even hear her. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“—ry,” Jean mumbled, so faint Renee could barely hear him. “Sorry, I’m—” the rest got swallowed up by another pained noise as the guard shifted his grip, and Renee locked her fingers together before she could reach for him.
Andritch sent Renee ahead of him so he could take the rear and focus on his phone. From the sound of it he was rounding up the Ravens’ other coaches and calling them back to Evermore for an emergency meeting. Renee kept moving, trying to ignore the agonized sounds Jean was choking on as he was carried after her. She wanted to ask them to be more careful; she knew just from looking at Jean that they couldn’t be careful enough.
Getting him up the steep stairs was the worst part, and Renee’s cheeks were damp with silent tears when she finally pushed open the last door. As soon as the men were clear of the door she hurried over to Andrew’s car. It took only a bit of jostling to slide the passenger seat back on its rails, and she tugged the latch until she could lay it as flat as it would go.
Jean was boneless when they finally got him settled. Renee saw the unnatural way his head lolled to one side and feared the worst, but when she squeezed past Zane to check on him, she could still find a pulse. Unconscious from the pain, then, which was only a half-step better. It was six hours and change from West Virginia to South Carolina. Abby had offered to meet her here, and Renee should have agreed, but she was desperate to get Jean out of the state before Riko and his uncle figured out how to respond.
“You’ll keep us updated?” Andritch said. He sounded calm, but she saw the nervous way he turned his class ring on his little finger as he studied her.
“Hourly reports,” Renee agreed as she pushed the passenger door shut. He was standing close to her, so she obediently tilted her phone screen his way and deleted her photographs in front of him. It wouldn’t stop her from taking more once she got somewhere safe, but it was a token of good faith and the best he could hope for. “We appreciate your cooperation. Please feel free to delete the email you received this morning and contact Coach Wymack if you have any additional concerns.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Zane warned her. “You will regret this.”
Renee met his cold stare with a cool look of her own. “Your captain is free to take his grievances up with me if he has something to say about it. I’m sure he knows where to find me.” She didn’t wait for a response but looked at Andritch. “If we’re finished here, I will take the code for the outer gate.”
The guard had to call his office again to get it for her, and Renee committed it to memory as she got in the car and pulled away. She had six numbers tapped into the keypad when the stadium door crashed open, and Renee glanced at her rearview mirror to see Riko in the doorway. He was dressed in full court gear minus his helmet, and the distance between them couldn’t hide the absolute rage on his face when he followed Zane’s pointing finger to her car. He took a couple steps in her direction like he wanted to chase her down, and Renee quickly put in the last two numbers.
The gate rattled open, and Renee flashed Riko a peace sign out the window as she put the pedal to the floor. Unnecessary, she knew, but she could worry about her attitude later. All that mattered now was getting Jean to South Carolina. She had the window closed before they reached the interstate and called Stephanie on speaker.
“I’ve got him,” she said. “We’re on our way south.”
“How is he?” Stephanie asked. “How are you?”
“Oh, Mom,” Renee said, and risked a glance over at Jean’s battered form. With the windows closed the smell of blood was thick enough to choke on. “I don’t know how he’s still alive.”
“God’s not done with that boy yet,” Stephanie said. “Drive safe, you hear me? I know you were up all night. If you start getting tired, you call me to keep you awake or you make sure you pull over and rest a bit. You can’t help him if you go off the road.”
“I know,” Renee said. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“I’m proud of you, honeybug,” Stephanie said. “I love you. Be safe.”
“Love you.” Renee clicked her phone closed and dropped it into the cup holder between the seats. She reached out blindly for Jean, needing to check his pulse one last time, and thought she felt a hum against her fingertips as Jean tried to stir. “Sleep, Jean,” she urged him, thinking of the lone packet of painkillers in the bottom of her purse. “Sleep, and I’ll get us home.”
“—ome,” was the slurred agreement, and Renee turned her attention back to the endless drive ahead of them.
Seth was on his way back to the stairwell from the upstairs bathroom when he spotted familiar blonde curls through a doorway. He detoured immediately, pushing the door open the rest of the way with a clumsy shove. Allison was stretched out in bed fully dressed, heels still on. Eyes closed, a regular Sleeping Beauty. A frat boy was already half in bed with her, one hand on the pillow by her head and the other pushing her shirt up her stomach toward her bra. Another was at the foot of the bed with his phone out and camera on. When he saw who’d walked in on them, he snapped it shut with a tired, “Ah, shit.”
His friend didn’t realize he was already dead and sent Seth an impatient look. “Hey man, wait your turn.”
Seth could barely see straight, but in no universe could he not take a swing. He lurched forward, trusting the bed to stop him before he fell over, and caught hold of the guy’s frat jacket to start wailing on him. Three hits were enough he could throw the man off the far side of the bed and more than enough to lose his balance. He sat heavily on the mattress, swearing as he waited for the world to stop spinning, and glared at the three men bobbing and blurring together at the foot of the bed.
“Sorry, man,” the guy said, three mouths but one voice. “Didn’t know she was yours.”
She wasn’t; she never would be. But Seth refused to say that. Instead he gave Allison a rough shake. He thought she moaned, but it was more likely the man who couldn’t figure out how to get off the floor again. Allison was warm to the touch but limp and unresponsive. Seth held his hand up by his face, watching and waiting for his fingers to settle down into five digits. As soon as his vision was sorted, he got up and stormed out of the room.
He almost missed the railing when he grabbed at it. For a second he thought he had; he saw the stairs swim up toward him before he overcorrected and bounced back up. He could only see the outer edge of the party from the second-floor landing, but he yelled “Reggie!” down there anyway. A couple was trying to squeeze past him to find an empty room, but Seth grabbed the guy’s elbow and demanded, “Where is Reggie?”
“Don’t know a Reggie,” he said, pulling out of Seth’s grip and shouldering past.
Seth put his hand on the wall and stumbled down the stairs with a graceless speed that left him tasting the shots he’d been throwing back all night. He pushed his way in circles around the lower level, from the hallway to the kitchen and through the back doorway into the living room. He found Damien on the couch with a bottle of gin in one hand and a roach in the other.
“Where is Reggie?”
“Claudia,” Damien said with a jerkoff gesture. “Left uhh…” He trailed off to think, but his grasp on time wasn’t good enough to figure it out. Eventually he gave up with a shrug. “He’ll be back sooner or later.”
“Allison’s fucked up,” Seth said.
“Who isn’t? It’s a party.” Damien held out the roach in offering.
Seth left him there and went back upstairs. Up was much harder than down, as he kept almost tilting backwards. He had to haul himself up the last few steps with both hands on the railing. When he stumbled back into the room where Allison was not-resting, there was a new man waiting for him in the same frat lettering as the guy he’d knocked out. He punched Seth on his way through the doorway and started hollering some dumb shit about frat rules. Seth let it go in one ear and out the other, taking just a moment to register the taste of blood between his teeth.
A second later he launched at the man. Something everyone always forgot about the ragtag Exy team taking up space on campus: they were used to hitting and being hit hard enough to hurt through armor. Seth could take a punch better than anyone in this house and he knew how to swing twice as hard. He beat the man until he was snotty and crying on the floor, then sat down beside Allison again and pulled his phone out of his pocket. His fingers ached so badly he wasn’t sure he could handle the buttons, and his vision was crackling black as nausea threatened to get the best of him.
“Wymack,” a voice said at his ear.
Seth hadn’t realized he’d managed to dial out. “I can’t wake her up,” he said. He kicked at the fallen frat boy until he rolled away and Seth could see the lettering on his jacket. He read it off to Wymack, who answered with just a brisk ETA before hanging up on him.
There was no way any of them would get invited back to a frat house once he called a coach to their doorstep, but Seth would deal with his teammates’ outrage later.
He knew Wymack arrived by the way the music abruptly cut out downstairs and by the nervous rumble of conversations as students gave ground with mumbled excuses. Seth checked his bloodied knuckles as he listened to footsteps on the stairs. He could have called out, but his stomach was all liquid and he didn’t trust it not to spill over.
There weren’t a lot of rooms with open doors up here, so it only took Wymack a few moments to find them. He held out a hand to help haul Seth to his feet, then moved past him to check on Allison. Seth watched him check her breathing and her pulse and wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him to do the same.
“We’re leaving,” Wymack said, more to Allison than to Seth. He hooked one arm behind her shoulders and another behind her knees, and he hoisted her ragdoll body off the bed like she weighed nothing. He carried her out of there and took the stairs down as carefully as he could. Seth hadn’t been invited to come along, but he followed after them anyway. Better to go with them and face Wymack’s judgment than have to fight everyone in here as soon as Wymack was out of sight.
“Door’s unlocked,” Wymack said when they reached his car.
Seth got the back door, and Wymack put Allison down across the backseat. Seth went around to the other side so he could help pull from the other end. He had to wrap her long hair up and tuck it against her throat; she’d kill him if he closed the back door on any of it. With her safe, he was free to take the passenger seat, and Wymack got them moving.
Getting in the car was the worst idea Seth had had all night, and Wymack had to pull over twice so Seth could throw up into the gutter. He didn’t realize they’d stopped for good until Wymack got out of the car. Seth stared out the windshield, blinking as hard as he could until the lettering for Reddin Medical Center came into view. Abby was on the curb under the streetlight, pajama pants poking out beneath her coat.
Wymack got the back door open and began the process of getting Allison out. Seth started to reach for his buckle, but Wymack said, “Wait here,” and Seth was tired enough to listen.
Wymack kicked the back door shut as soon as he had Allison clear of it, and Abby swiped her keycard to get them access to the building. She had to disarm the code before she could get the door for Wymack, and she rushed him out of sight. Seth considered going after them anyway, then put the chair back as far as it could go and fell asleep.
A careful hand on his shoulder woke him up some time later, and Seth pushed himself up to see Reddin was gone. He looked in the backseat, found it empty, and turned a bleary look on Wymack.
“We’re at Fox Tower,” Wymack said. “Can you make it inside?”
“Where is she?” Seth asked.
“Abby’s staying with her until the morning,” Wymack said. “Drink some water and get some rest, but know we’re going to talk about this when you’re sober enough to retain anything I have to say to you. Don’t start,” he said when Seth scowled at him. “Can you get inside, or do I need to come in with you?”
“I got it,” Seth said, fumbling with his buckle. He half-fell out of the car but managed to catch the door before his knees hit asphalt. He checked his pockets, looking for his wallet, and showed it to Wymack in a moment of triumph. “See?”
“Seth,” Wymack said as Seth started to close the door. Seth leaned over to peer across the front seat at him. Wymack’s expression was serious, but not angry, and all he said was, “Thank you for calling me tonight.”
Seth looked away. “She’s going to be all right,” he said. He refused to word it like a question. Allison would always be all right in the end. He was the one falling apart every time he looked at her. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He shouldn’t have started looking in the first place. She was goddamned royalty and he was just—
“She’s going to be all right,” Wymack agreed.
Seth closed the car door and staggered to the rear door of Fox Tower. It took five tries to get the sensor to read his card, since he couldn’t hold his hand still long enough to trigger it. The elevator ride was so terrible he had to squat in the car for several minutes after it reached his floor. When he thought he could risk it, he headed for his room, where he nearly broke his key getting in. The others were all gone still, so Seth shuffled over to the couch, managed to kick out of one shoe, and passed out face down.
..
Fox Tower was so hostile the next day Seth had to take his hangover out into the fresh air and too-bright sun. It was exactly the wretched mistake he expected it to be. He crouched on the sidewalk and scrunched back into what little shade the building cast at this time of day. He scratched angry lines through his stubble and hated everything about the world. He was starting an alphabetical list of the most annoying things he could think of for lack of anything better to do when a familiar car turned into the parking lot.
There was no reason to get his hopes up, but Seth folded his arms across his knees and watched until the car came to a stop at the curb. Allison got out alone and waved Abby off through the passenger window. It was another minute before the nurse pulled away, as if she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to leave yet, but Allison stood still and watched her until she finally put the car back into drive. Seth took advantage of her distraction to study the willowy freshman. Her hair had obviously been washed and redone, but she was wearing what she’d had on last night. It was the first time he’d seen her in the same thing twice, outside of her Exy uniforms.
Only when Abby’s car was out of sight did she turn toward Fox Tower. Seth expected her to head inside without a second look his way, the same way she’d rebuffed him all semester. As much as it pissed him off to be dismissed right out of hand, he knew she was too good for him.
But Allison wasn’t heading for the door; she was coming over to stand in front of him. He held her gaze for only a moment before turning his attention on the parking lot. It wasn’t like he cared that she was okay, after all.
“At least stand up when I’m talking to you,” she said, a touch impatiently. “I’m not sitting on the ground in this skirt.”
“I’m comfortable,” he said.
She gave his thigh an ungentle kick. “I said get up.”
“Annoying fucking woman,” Seth said, but he stood up to glower at her. “What do you want?”
The curl of her lip said she was rethinking this entire thing, but finally she gave a sharp jerk of her hand and said, “To thank you, you witless tool. Don’t make me regret it before I can get it out.” It was enough to shut him up. Allison folded her arms across her chest and stared him down. At last her expression eased into something more troubled than annoyed and she said, “Thank you. Abby told me what happened.”
If it was anyone else, Seth would have mocked them for needing rescuing. He felt the taunts biting at the back of his throat, but what came out was, “I thought you were dead. And—good riddance, obviously,” he added, more to save himself than to rile her up again. “But Coach can’t afford another scandal, so—”
“Shut up,” she said, reaching for him.
He did as he was told, too distracted by her touch to remember the rest of his tirade. She had one of his hands in both of hers as she studied his bruised and bloodied knuckles. The fists that had gotten him this far in life looked meaty and ugly in her long fingers. For a moment he wanted to apologize for the brute he was; for a moment he was so ashamed of all of his hard edges he wanted to yank free.
But then she skimmed her thumbs over his knuckles, and she sounded so soft when she said, “Thank you for looking out for me.”
He could have said I shouldn’t have had to, or I won’t do it again, or Don’t drink so much next time. Even in his head they sounded more like lies than truth. What he said instead was, “I want to. Wanted, I mean.”
She studied him with unabashed curiosity for another minute before finally letting go. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, a little too smug for his likes, and she said, “No, I think you meant ‘want’.” She was undeterred by his fierce scowl, but since she wasn’t laughing him off he forced back every insult he could have thrown at her to reclaim the safe distance between them. The restraint paid off when Allison said, “You’re taking me to dinner tonight.”
“I didn’t hear a question in there.”
“I didn’t hear a refusal,” Allison said. “Pick me up at seven.”
She left without waiting for a response, and Seth could only stare after her. The door to Fox Tower swung closed behind her before his brain caught up with him again, and he gave a short fist pump of triumph.
He’d fuck this up, he knew. If not today, then tomorrow, or the next. She was taking a chance on him now that he was a little interesting, but once she realized he was a waste of space she’d move on to the next bright thing. Everyone left, sooner or later; that was just life. No one could stick around and stand him for long. But since Seth refused to be the first to bail, he’d hold on as tight as he could until she made him let go.
the first time I saw ppl say they were actively dissuading other ppl from reading it I was like "oh :( " and then I realized it is legit for the absolute best, keep up the good work my beloveds
Aftg is fun cause all the characters are living in different genres like neil is in a mafia thriller while andrew is in some a24 drama film. Kevin is the horse girl in a horse girl movie and dan is in an underdogs sports story. Poor aaron is trying to have a normal slice of life forbidden romance type beat but then he has to go and kill a guy.
THE ULTIMATE MASTERLIST OF RECOMMENDED ANDREIL FICS
This website includes over 100 personal fic recommendations, organised by rating and word count.
Every recommendation is one that I have personally read and enjoyed. This is, of course, not an exhaustive list and I am sure there are far more great fics I have yet to discover. However, this is a great starting point, especially for people new to the fandom!
If you don't find your favourite fic on this list, feel free to send me a message and I will check it out. Please reblog to spread to those who may need it!
(Authors: if you are not on this list, it doesn't make your writing bad. Either I've not come across it, or it personally wasn't for me. Keep writing! If you'd like your fic removed from this list, please send me a message.)
I've never really understood why people say AFTG isn't well written, especially people who actively like the series. I've read badly written books, I literally just finished one, and AFTG isn't one of them. I don't believe a book can't be badly written and still capture its audience the way AFTG has captured so many of us.
What I will say is that outside of Tumblr it's not popular. AFTG has around 50,000 reviews on goodreads and stands around 4 stars. Making it higly rated, but not highly read. The book I just finished has around 400,000 reviews and many of them are 1 star because many readers couldn't even bring themselves to finish the book. And guess what it has a tv adaption.
AFTG is also odd in the sense that it doesn't fit into any of these niche little tropes that so many books fall into. (Personally I think those are reasons I love it, but can also understand why a fake sport and the japanese mafia dont reach a broader reader base.) It has a darker tone without it being an outright horror or suspense, and Nora really did an impecable job with it.
And of course there are other well written books out there, and books that are much better written than AFTG, but that doesn't make it badly written. It not being your cup of tea doesn't make it badly written either.
I guess my point is that I've read bad books. Books I've finished, books I've forced myself to finish, and books I couldn't force myself to finish. And in my mind there is no comparison with AFTG. Its captivating.
