24. Salem
SALEM
“ D ude, are you listening?”
“What?” I ask.
Zyair arches his eyebrow. “Since you’ve been back, we’ve been unstoppable.”
“Uh. Thanks,” I reply, palming the glass the bartender slides my way.
They’re riding high after we clinched a dub against the Bay Area Hawks.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“Nothing. Just tired.”
And confused by Blue’s distance. Again. I keep feeling like I’m missing something with him—like maybe patience isn’t enough.
“Look at this shit,” Cillian cuts in, sliding his phone between us and hitting play.
A video of Nick shaking his ass fills the screen.
“Yo!” Zyair cackles. “Yo boi’s turnt.”
“He sent you this?” I ask, watching Ussef, who’s squatted low, riding the air like he’s competing with the guy in a jockstrap gyrating on the platform behind him.
“He wants us to come through.”
“This is live?”
“I mean, kinda. They’re not too far from here.”
“Card, please,” I call to the bartender as I jump to my feet.
“We rollin’?” Cillian asks.
“Yeah.”
“Y’all know the bus leaves for Sacramento in like two hours,” Zy reminds us.
“Cover for us,” Cillian tosses back as I sign the check and pocket my card. “If we’re not there, let Coach know we’ll take a separate car and meet up with y’all.”