CHAPTER ELEVEN
J eremy
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A fter four years with the Trojans, Jeremy had lost count of the ways his teammates made him proud. There were some standout moments to be sure: the way they rallied around him his freshman year, how quickly most of them had given Xavier their unwavering support when he chose to start transitioning his sophomore year, and their commitment to the Foxes imperiled team last year that culminated in their spectacular showdown at semifinals.
The week following Jean s interview earned a near-immediate spot on the list. Few of them were comfortable with this development, but the tone of the nonstop messages Jeremy and Xavier fielded that weekend leaned more toward curiosity and concern than anger.
Finding out who Jean s parents were couldn t erase what they d seen with their own eyes all summer; it simply added a critical piece to the Jean Moreau puzzle. No one would deny he was standoffish and often rude, but Jean wasn t the vicious transfer student they d expected. They d seen his countless scars, and they d all noticed how quickly Jean retreated when challenged by his coaches. How could they fear a man who couldn t even look Rhemann in the face two months into summer practices?
Monday s practice started with a team meeting, but to Jeremy it felt more like a formality. The Trojans had had plenty of time over the weekend to hash it out over texts and calls and to watch the interview as often as they needed; their minds were made up before they set foot in the Gold Court on August 13 th . The coaches went over the more pertinent details, such as the increased risk of scrutiny and trespassing journalists. After-practice Raven drills were temporarily canceled until the coaches could assess the blowback.
After they covered their necessary talking points, they opened the floor for questions, but the Trojans steered clear of the actual interview content in favor of more light-hearted gossip: did Jeremy and Kevin combust when they saw each other out of uniform, had Jeremy convinced Kevin to transfer to the Trojans for his fifth year, how many languages did Jean really speak, and so on.
Lisinski let them joke around longer than Jeremy expected her to, but maybe she knew Jean needed to see his teammates uncowed support of him. She finally called for them to wrap it up, and they got to their feet in a cacophony of sliding chairs and laughter. How Jeremy heard Lucas s accusation, he wasn t sure, but the weight behind his words punched through the rest of the noise:
You re nineteen.
Slowly the Trojans went quiet. Lucas was the only one still seated, arms folded across his thighs as he stared down at his shoes. It was the first time Lucas had acknowledged Jean since his brother s death, and Jeremy wasn t sure which way this was going to go. Jean had refused to throw Grayson under the bus when Hannah gave him the opportunity, but the way he d reacted to Grayson s name and news of Rhemann s unprecedented banishment got people talking. No consensus yet, according to Cat, but she d keep an eye on it.
Lucas said nothing else, so finally Jean said, Yes.
Then you were sixteen when-
Do not, Jean warned him.
Jeremy didn t trust Lucas to let it drop, but the Trojans didn t need to be here for this. He caught Xavier s eye as he said, Let s keep it moving, guys, we re behind as it is.
Lucas, unsurprisingly, didn t budge. Neither did Jean, and Jeremy wasn t sure if he was honestly willing to hear Lucas out or if he knew Lucas would chase his exit with louder demands. Lisinski helped Xavier herd the rest of the Trojans out of the room, though she lingered just out of the doorway in case she needed to intervene. Jeremy remained at Jean s side and kept his eyes on Lucas bowed head.
Did they know? Lucas demanded, still staring at the floor like he wanted it to swallow him whole. They had so much shit to say about your freshman year, but did they know you were just sixteen? When he- Lucas made a noise like he was about to throw up, but somehow he managed to fight it back. His voice was hoarse when he said, You re younger than I am. Did Grayson know that?
Jean was digging bruises into the side of his neck, but his voice was steady when he said, They all did. Lucas flinched like he d been struck, and Jean forcibly loosened his grip as he started for the door. Trade racquets with Ananya today. You are dead weight on a heavy, and I will not tolerate it any longer.
Lucas said nothing, so Jean was able to slip out of the room. Jeremy lingered long enough to test the water with a careful, Lucas. He thought about Cody s warning and forcibly changed what he was about to say, eschewing useless comfort in favor of facts: You are not your brother, and you are not responsible for what he did. Stop trying to carry that weight in his absence. It will only crush you.
Lucas scrubbed a rough hand over his face but gave no sign he d heard. Jeremy glanced toward the door and nodded when Lisinski motioned to him. She d keep an eye on Lucas; he needed to catch up with his team and get them over to the fitness center.
The Trojans filed out of the stadium in a straggling line. The reminder that Jean should be a sophomore had taken some of the cheer out of them, or maybe that was Lucas s abject misery infecting the rest. How long it would take them to realize what Lucas was referring to, Jeremy wasn t sure; they d all heard rumors about how Jean made the Ravens lineup, but they d moved on from such outlandish gossip months ago. Hopefully it would stay forgotten, and they d get too distracted by Lucas s grief and Jean s parents to worry about the crueler details.
Lucas was only twenty minutes behind them in making it to Lyon. His teammates were heartened by his arrival, assuming he d sorted out whatever was bothering him, and rallied around him with good cheer that sounded less forced by the minute. The mood was almost normal when they finally left, but getting intercepted on the way back to the stadium by a handful of reporters didn t help. Luckily Shawn and Shane didn t need to be asked, and they ran interference with too-bright smiles and easy reassurances.
Knowing the press was around had Jeremy s group sticking to the locker rooms at lunch. They d just gotten settled in one of the huddle rooms when Ananya came looking for them. She folded her arms across her chest as she said, Your continued crusade against my racquet is admirable but unnecessary. I told you I like lighter racquets.
That Lucas had passed on Jean s demand was unexpected, but Jean seemed more annoyed than pleased as he pushed his rice in agitated circles. This time it is about his mistakes, not yours. He relies too much on power and not at all on finesse. He would be stronger in the long run if a lighter touch forced him to rethink his style. If you won t come to your senses at least loan him one of your spares today.
Ananya considered that for a few moments, then sighed and set a box of Band-Aids near his bowl. Jean went still to frown at it, and Ananya motioned to it as she stepped back. Emma was too afraid to bring you these herself since she wasn t sure how you d react. They re for your fingers, she explained, crooking her fingers at him to show him her painted nails. In her wrap-up Hannah mentioned how you hurt yourself whenever she made you uncomfortable, and it made Emma think about how often she s seen you at it this summer.
Oh, I like it. Cat upended the box and started stripping paper off. Pick a hand to start with!
You aren t serious, Jean said.
Jeremy didn t think Jean would let her get away with this, but then Cat pressed a careful thumb to the fresh scabs on his throat. Jean muttered something rude in French but offered his left hand. Ananya nodded satisfaction as she left to finish her own lunch, and Cat made short work of the task set before her. She covered each of Jean s fingers with two Band-Aids, one over the nail and one around the fingertip to hold the first in place. Jean considered her handiwork with distaste as she carried her trash away, but he didn t bother to peel any of the bandages loose.
Afternoon practice felt a little stilted, leaving Jeremy to wonder how much his teammates had been gossiping over lunch, but no one was cruel enough to voice their speculations on the court. The only real fuss came from Derek and Derrick, who started gleefully referring to Jean as lil bro during the final scrimmage. Jean tripped them both so violently he was almost pulled from the line, but they defended him stridently enough that White simply switched them to mark Cody and Pat.
It bought Jean only forty minutes of peace, as the pair hounded him all the way to the showers after practice for a French equivalent to call him. Jeremy idly wondered if he ought to intervene, but Jean seemed more confused than distressed: offended by their excitement over his age and bewildered by their persistent good humor in the face of his caustic irritation. He obviously wasn t used to being teased, or maybe it was the complete lack of maliciousness behind their jokes that threw him off his game.
Xavier finally arrived at the showers and took stock of Jean s predicament in a glance. A helpless smile twitched at his lips as he announced, I see the bazonga line is in full menace mode today.
Wow, Derek protested. I thought we moved past that nickname like two years ago.
Derrick clocked Jean s lost look and made an exaggerated gesture near his own chest. Derek and Derrick, double D? Jillian really thought she was funny with that one. A step up from being the Oreo line, at least. He reached past Jean to thunk Derek in the shoulder. Speaking of bazongas, don t forget to show Jean a picture of Cherise. I would literally slit my throat for her. Please tell her I said that.
You ever figure out where her eyes are, I ll tell her, Derek said. Hey, Jean, how do you say bro in French?
Between them Jean cranked his shower off, done with this conversation and their unflagging nonsense. Jeremy half-expected them to try and stop him, but Derek and Derrick let him go with exuberant farewells. As soon as the door closed behind him, Derek turned an arch look on his line partner and said, Anyway, you better pray I don t introduce Jean to Cherise. She would choose him over you in a heartbeat.
Derrick staggered like he d been hit. That s heartless, dude. I thought we were friends or something, brother from another mother?
If you re my brother, you definitely should not be checking out our cousin.
No longer brothers, Derrick was quick to say. Never even met you before in my life.
Sebastian frowned over at them. Does he even like girls? He got scooped up by the floozies so fast. Ouch, what was that for? he protested when Shawn stepped on his foot. Shawn sent a quick gesture toward Xavier, and Sebastian blanched when he realized his misstep. Hell, sorry, didn t mean it like that. Maybe he s like Cody, then. What s that kind of queer that likes both chicks and dicks? He yelped when Shawn got him again. Jesus, sorry . I just mean that he-never mind, I give up.
It was a familiar struggle by now; Sebastian had come to them from a conservative upbringing in Birmingham and was prone to taking one step back for every two steps forward. He leaned more toward confusion rather than Lucas s grudging tolerance, but once he started fumbling, he had a hard time finding his feet again. The clumsiness was a bit painful sometimes, but Jeremy was glad he was trying.
What are we going to do with you? Cody said, more amused than offended, but immediately changed tracks as the door opened to let Lucas s small group in. Jeremy assumed they d been hanging back until Jean was out of the way. Heya, Lucas. We re taking a head count to go see the new Bourne movie this week. Are you in or did you go already?
Jeremy couldn t even imagine the effort it d take to get Jean into a movie theater; just the thought made him smile as he cut his water off. He d left his towel on a numbered hook near the door, and he gave himself a cursory scrub before winding it around his waist and heading out into the locker rooms. It shouldn t surprise him that Jean was already fully dressed and waiting on the strikers row for him, but he was honestly impressed with how fast Jean could move when he wanted to get out of here. Jean glanced up at his approach but was quick to drop his gaze to the apricot cradled in both hands.
Jeremy took his time drying off and getting dressed, knowing Cat and Laila would be a few minutes more. When he was done, he straddled the bench at Jean s side and started pulling up news on his phone. He was only distantly aware of strikers coming and going as he tracked the day s fallout. Someone had caught up to Kevin, it seemed, but Kevin staunchly refused to speculate or elaborate on Jean s family. The more interesting development was that Edgar Allan had nothing at all to say. It seemed someone had finally been smart enough to put a muzzle on the Ravens.
After Jean refused to talk about his family Saturday morning, Hannah had turned her focus back to Riko s career and death, and she d seamlessly pieced together a worthy tribute for the fallen King. Between that touching piece, the revelation that Jean had saved Zane, and Jean s scandalized defense of his former team, a bit of ill-timed malice from the Ravens might finally turn the tide of public opinion against them. It was perhaps too much to hope they d apologize for their antagonism this spring, but Jeremy had seen stranger things.
Cat and Laila finally stopped by, but even now they couldn t leave. Laila didn t want reporters following them to her house, which meant leaning on the Trojans sheer size as a shield. Laila, Cat, and Jean would follow their teammates back to the dorms, and they d hide out with the floozies until they felt safe enough to sneak home.
Jeremy wished he could go with them, but avoiding his family this weekend had brought about the expected consequences: he was to stay home this week. His parents couldn t keep him from attending practice, but they knew what time it let out and roughly how long the drive would take. Jeremy didn t regret choosing Jean and Kevin over their prying oversight, but he was sorry he had to leave his friends to deal with this chaos alone.
Be safe, Jeremy said, getting to his feet.
Drive safe, was Laila s easy response, and Jeremy had no choice but to walk away.
-
L aila s quiet pin-pon alert dragged Jeremy out of a light doze Thursday night, and he pushed his books aside to pick up his phone. He could imagine Laila s disgruntled tone as he skimmed her message, and it was enough to bring a helpless smile to his face: Cat and Jean dipped out, my fianc abandoned me, and my show tonight is a rerun. Barkbark is refusing to bring back the ball when I throw it. I am bored out of my mind.
You re welcome to come hang out with me, Jeremy sent back.
At your place? I don t love you that much.
But I m studying fallacies. It s very exciting.
Liar. What s today s French lesson?
Objects around the house. Jeremy sent her a picture of his desk, which was now covered in sticky notes of vocabulary terms. Laila s subsequent crack about his handwriting was to be expected, and Jeremy gave a put-upon sigh as he obediently rewrote a few of the messier ones. He was trading out the papers when Laila came back with,
Think you ll be home tomorrow?
Home , she said, knowing he was technically home already. Jeremy toed at the leg of his desk and let his gaze track his room. The bedroom was frozen in time, a tidy snapshot of the son his parents wished they had, with serious books lining the bookshelves and a well-made bed in boring beige. He d hung a dozen-odd pictures of his friends and teammates on his wall, but he d made sure to only choose photographs where they were out of uniform. His Exy awards and trophies were tucked away in the closet behind a monochromatic slew of uncomfortable clothes.
I don t know, he finally typed out. He hadn t asked yet, hoping that a week of quiet obedience would smooth away the lingering edges of his mother s anger. She might fight it, especially since school is starting so soon.
Hard at work, I see, Annalise said from his doorway, and Jeremy jumped so hard he dropped his phone. Who are you texting?
Laila, Jeremy said as he collected his phone again.
The Egyptian.
Her mother s Lebanese, he said, but Annalise ignored the correction. Jeremy tugged his study guides closer and neatly stacked the LSAT book on top of his French notes. Annalise was less likely to rat him out than Bryson was, but it was best not to take any chances. Her father s been reassigned to Thailand. Maybe she ll let me go with her next time she visits him? I could scratch Bangkok off the bucket list and pop around Asia for a week or two.
With what money? she asked, but didn t wait for him to react to that unkind dig. Oh wait, irrelevant. You don t have a passport.
Jeremy held onto his smile for all he was worth. Somewhere I do.
Mathilda had always kept the family s most important documents in a fireproof cabinet in her home office, but she d removed most of Jeremy s paperwork years ago. His medical records were still there, but his passport, social security card, and birth certificate were nowhere to be found. Jeremy had turned every room in this house inside-out more than once looking for them. If he could just find them, he could hide them in Laila s safe, but he always came back emptyhanded. He had to assume his mother had moved them to a safety deposit box; they were gone until she felt like giving them back.
Annalise s accusation was quiet: You don t want to go to Thailand, anyway. You just want an excuse to visit Seoul. Why? Dad won t see you.
Osan. Jeremy took his phone apart and put it back together. Maybe he would. Could he really turn me away if I was right there?
She said nothing. For all that had broken between them four years ago, Trent Knox was an open wound they would always share. They d been cut in different ways by his long absences and abrupt departure, and Annalise would always take their mother s side first, but they didn t have the heart to really fight about him.
At length Annalise beckoned imperiously to him. Get the door for me. My hands are going to be full with my laundry.
Annalise was the only one of them allowed to live on her own year-round, a reward for being the least disappointing child. She avoided coming home whenever possible, but her washer was acting up for the fourth time this week and she was in dire need of clean clothes. Jeremy was idly surprised she hadn t just gone out and bought more to hold her over until maintenance could come by, seeing how she still had unfettered access to her college fund.
Jeremy pushed such thoughts away as he stood. I ll carry it down for you.
Annalise stepped back to let him out of his room and pointed to where her laundry basket was waiting off to one side. Jeremy scooped it up and followed her to the stairs. They were halfway down when the doorbell rang, and Annalise sent a disapproving frown at her watch. It was late to have guests, but Warren s rotating schedule at the hospital made for an unreliable social life.
William reached the door only seconds before they did, and Jeremy drew up short when he saw Cat on his front porch.
William! Cat said, beaming at the butler. Hey, sorry to drop by unannounced. Just trying to steal Jeremy. Is he-heyyy, she said as she spotted Jeremy over William s shoulder. Come chat with us real quick.
Does she know what time it is? Annalise asked as she snatched up her purse and keys.
Bit late, but you re all awake, Cat said with unflagging cheer. Gorgeous as always, Annalise. Smile just lights up the room.
Annalise, who was decidedly not smiling, only motioned for Cat to get out of her way. Jeremy smiled apologies at William as he followed his sister onto the porch, and then Annalise rocked to an abrupt stop. Jeremy had to lurch back to avoid slamming the laundry basket into the small of her back. He thought perhaps she d forgotten something, but Annalise was staring at Jean where he stood only a few steps back from the porch. Jeremy moved up alongside her, mouth open on a quick reassurance, but Annalise looked more startled than afraid.
Maybe it was the night that put that color in her cheeks, or maybe it was the way Jean was studying her with unabashed curiosity and no little interest. He wasn t the first to look at Annalise like that and he wouldn t be the last; she had a face born for stardom and had pursued modeling gigs until her accident. Jeremy knew she was beautiful, and he knew Jean liked women and men equally. He didn t know why the laundry basket was now digging permanent creases into his fingers, but his tone was friendly and light as he introduced them.
Jean, this is Annalise. She s studying polisci at UCLA. Annalise, Jean Moreau, our newest backliner.
The Raven, she said, toying idly with the strap of her purse. After all of the horror stories, I expected something... less, she finished after a moment s pause. Jean continued to gaze back in silence, unbothered by that backhanded compliment, and Annalise sent Jeremy a sidelong look. He smiled in the face of her scrutiny, trying to radiate innocence, but Annalise only said, I was right, wasn t I? You really are going to make the same mistakes all over again.
Good night, Annie, Jeremy said.
The look that crossed her face ruined her pretty features. Don t call me that.
Jeremy jostled her laundry basket at her, and Annalise led the way to her car. She got the back door for him, and he wrapped the seatbelt around the basket to keep it from sliding around on her journey home. He held the driver s door open until she was buckled, then stepped back to watch her pull away. Only after her car was gone did he finally rejoin Cat and Jean near the fountain. William had been sent away at some point, and the front door was closed, so Cat caught Jeremy s hand and planted a kiss on his knuckles.
Long way from home, Jeremy said, looking between them.
Cat smiled and swiped sweaty bangs out of her face. We were in the area. Rode out to Thousand Oaks and figured we might as well come back this way. Jean needed to talk to you, anyway.
Here she sent Jean a meaningful look, but Jeremy s front door opened before Jean could say anything. Mathilda stepped out onto the porch alone, expression frosty and arms folded tight across her chest. She would have heard from William who was at her door this late; that she d come out here herself to shoo them off said worlds for how displeased she was by their boldness.
Cat was uncowed but hurried toward her with a gushing, Mrs. Wilshire, sorry to stop by so late, but oh my god, your hydrangeas-?
Jeremy glanced toward Jean, arching a brow in silent question, but Jean only looked away. Jeremy wasn t sure how much time Cat could buy them, so he pressed, What s on your mind?
I need a ride on Saturday, Jean finally said. From you, not Laila.
Where are we going, and when?
Jean scowled but said, Doctor, ten-fifteen.
I ll see what I can do, Jeremy promised. Jean didn t look at all reassured, so Jeremy said, Mom s a doctor-an OB anesthesiologist, he elaborated at Jean s small frown, so I can t imagine she ll refuse if I tell her we re going to a hospital. I ll talk to her as soon as I get inside and let you know tomorrow, okay?
Jeremy, Mathilda called, so Jeremy had to leave Jean there. He passed Cat on his way to the front porch, and he obediently took up a spot at Mathilda s side. He and his mother watched as Cat and Jean pulled their helmets back on. The quiet roar of their motorcycles coming to life had Mathilda muttering rudely under her breath.
It wasn t the noise that had her so riled up; as soon as Mathilda knew she d be heard she said, You do have some white friends, I assume.
Jeremy s smile froze on his face. You just saw one of them.
I didn t recognize him.
Asking if she could recognize any of the Trojans was a surefire way to get on her bad side, so Jeremy only said, A friend introduced us. I m pretty sure he has a crush on Laila, he added, before she could ask him what sort of friend Jean was. He waited a bit to see if she d call him out on it, but either she hadn t been paying nearly enough attention to the news or the night and distance had hidden Jean s tattoo from her. Before all this happened, I d agreed to take him to the hospital this weekend, so he needed to know if I was still free. Won t be steady enough to ride afterward, he added.
There and back again, she said as she turned toward the door.
He should take his victories and let it go, but Jeremy had to try. I ve only got one week left of break, and then it s my last year at university. Can t I spend it with Laila? Not the school year, he was quick to say when she flicked him a severe look, but just this last week.
That foreigner teammate of yours put your brother through a windshield, Mathilda reminded him.
Supposedly, Jeremy said. All of Laila s neighbors say differently about what happened with Bryson.
He needed stitches, Mathilda reminded him. When Jeremy said nothing, she continued, You shouldn t associate with a criminal. It reflects badly on us and your grandfather.
Jeremy bit off his kneejerk rejection in the nick of time: He is-not his parents. Jean came to America to get away from his family s crimes and carve out a life of his own. Doesn t that play into the narrative Arnold s always leaning into? The American dream, he emphasized when Mathilda paused to think it over. The chance to become more than what you re born with. If we re part of that success story, doesn t that make us look good?
It doesn t change the fact he s dangerous.
If he was, USC couldn t have signed him, Jeremy reasoned. My team has fought to maintain a legacy of kindness and acceptance. We wouldn t have brought him onto the line if we thought he d ruin our reputation and undo years of hard work. He waited a beat for her to make up her mind, then motioned toward the stairs and said, Can I help you with anything before I head back up? If not, I ve got a chapter left to get through before bed.
Have you signed up for any exams yet? she asked.
I set an alarm for tomorrow morning so I wouldn t miss the next registration period.
Good. Mathilda straightened his shirt with a neat tug and briefly cupped his face in her hand. Show me the confirmation email and you can stay with that girl next week.
Thank you.
Thank me when you ve done it, Mathilda said, and gestured toward the stairs. Go on.
Jeremy headed back upstairs to his room and grudgingly traded out his French book for his LSAT guide. Despite what he d told his mother downstairs, he only made it two pages further before he was so bored he had to call it a night. He was up at eight the next morning so he d make it to practice on time, and he refused to think about how his first alarms would be set to four o clock once the school year started.
His laptop went with him to the stadium. The increased presence of reporters wandering around campus and Exposition Park this week had them taking their lunches in the locker room. Today it worked in his favor, as he could use the wi-fi to find an exam slot. He forwarded his mother a copy of the confirmation email and tried not to notice the look Cat and Laila exchanged. Jean s heavy stare was a harder weight to shake, but Jeremy only smiled as he put his laptop away. He d be back at Laila s house tonight; did it really matter that he couldn t taste his lunch?
They stayed up far too late that night playing card games, but Jeremy got the best sleep he d had all week. On Saturday morning Jean showered while Jeremy brewed coffee, and Jean put together breakfast burritos while Jeremy washed up. Cat and Laila slept through breakfast, which meant there was more than enough coffee for Jean and Jeremy to take with them. Only when they were buckled up in Jeremy s car did he ask where they were going, and Jean checked a printout for an address.
It was an easy drive, up Vermont to Olympic then over, and Jeremy found parking in an associated garage. He lingered long enough to drain the last of his coffee before collecting his study guide from the backseat. They took the side exit out of the garage and went around to the front of the building. Jeremy held open the front door to let Jean precede him into the lobby.
Jean hesitated only a few steps inside to consult his notes again. Fifth floor.
Jeremy pressed the call button for the elevator. This time of day it was quick to arrive. Jean started to follow Jeremy on, only to retreat as soon as he was two steps into the car. Jeremy was so startled he almost didn t catch the doors in time, but he managed to shove them back open and rejoin Jean in the lobby. Jean looked rattled as he watched the doors slide closed.
I will take the stairs, he said. You go.
Jeremy looked from him to the lift. I m sorry, I didn t know you were claustrophobic. Jean didn t answer, so Jeremy looked around for a sign. Over here, he said, and pushed open the door that would let them into the stairwell. Flight after flight they made their way up, and Jeremy let them into a pleasantly boring waiting room drenched in white and cream. Jean hesitated with one hand on the door like he was considering going back downstairs before finally checking in at the front desk.
Jeremy found them a spot to sit and asked, Checkup?
No. Jean clenched his hands together and pinned them between his knees. Jeremy took the hint and let it drop, but Jean grudgingly explained, Dobson cannot teach me how to swim again from so far away. She arranged a referral to a local specialist. He frowned down at the floor as he thought, but the best he managed was a hesitant, Exposure therapy?
He was here to see a psychiatrist, Jeremy realized, but Jeremy s surprise was quickly washed away beneath a dizzying warmth. Jean had been forced into therapy against his will when the Ravens started spiraling, and he d rebelled against that by sitting silent as the grave on his weekly calls to Dr. Dobson. Jeremy wasn t sure what had inspired him to finally talk to her, but it left him buzzing with equal parts hope and relief.
He didn t realize he d reacted until Jean scowled at his hands and said, Stop looking at me like that.
Can t I be proud of you? Jeremy asked. It s not easy asking for help.
No. You should be annoyed that I ve missed so many workouts this summer, was the sullen response. The elevator dinged as another patient arrived, and Jeremy didn t miss the way Jean s shoulders went tense. Every inch of him screamed readiness to get out of here, but Jean held his ground and stayed where he was. I am Jean Moreau. I am perfect Court. I refuse to end this year as second line, but I can t even participate in practices twice a week.
You haven t been idle, Jeremy pointed out. You ve found other ways to fill the time.
Jean ignored him. Jeremy accepted his temporary defeat and flipped through his guidebook in search of where he d left off Thursday night. All the coffee and the joy seeped out of him by three sentences in, and Jeremy swallowed a sigh when he realized he was already skimming without reading. He went back to the start and marked the line with his finger, trying to force himself to read along. Progress was a little better this time, up until he had to turn the page and Jean said,
Wilshire.
Jeremy checked the waiting room instinctively, but he saw no one he recognized. Jean slanted a look at the LSAT guide and said, The senator is a Wilshire. Your mother took the name; Cat called her such. But you are a Knox.
For better or worse, yes. Jeremy slowly flipped the book closed. I kept my father s last name when Mom remarried. Back then I think it was about holding onto the family I wanted us to be, but then it was this, I don t know, teenage rebellion kind of thing. Jean s quiet snort gave his opinion of that, and Jeremy couldn t help but laugh. Is it so surprising? I ll have you know I m Mom s biggest headache.
Jeremy studied the painting hanging across from them as he mulled it over. I never want to be a Wilshire, but if I m honest, this hasn t worked out much better. Too many people wielded Knox as an insult, a reminder he would never fit in with his family. I ve thought about changing it to something new, but I m not sure if it would jumble my college stats to have them logged under two different surnames. Besides, I don t know what I d change it to. Maybe I ll put together a poll for graduation and let the floozies vote on it.
Deny a vote to whomever named the dog, Jean said.
Across the room the receptionist called, Jean? and Jean s expression went blank as he got to his feet. Jeremy watched until he was through the back door to where the offices were, then opened his study guide once more.
He got more napping done than reading; no amount of caffeine could counter how wretchedly boring this chapter was. Each time he stirred he saw new faces in the room. The last time he woke it was to the quick touch of fingers to his temple. Jean only lingered a moment to make sure he was awake before heading for the exit. He was two flights down by the time Jeremy entered the stairwell, moving at a pace that should have had him tripping forward into a broken neck, and Jeremy ran to catch up. Jean made it all the way to the car before finally collapsing into a crouch.
Hey, Jeremy said as he squatted beside Jean. Are you okay?
Jean dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. Yes.
He really was a wretched liar sometimes. Jeremy didn t waste his breath arguing but sat with him until Jean sounded less like he was shredding his lungs on every inhale. There was still a tremor in Jean s hands when he got to his feet, so Jeremy took Jean on an impromptu tour instead of heading home. They drove up and down the streets of downtown Los Angeles, with Jeremy pointing out buildings and restaurants he recognized. Only when the ghastly pallor finally left Jean s face did Jeremy turn them south toward campus.
Jeremy parked before asking, Will you be going back?
Jean dug lines into the back of his hand. Once a week for the next three to four months.
From him it sounded like a death sentence. Jeremy caught his little finger and tugged in a silent demand to stop hurting himself. When Jean obediently loosened his grip, Jeremy said, Then I ll make sure you get there. One week at a time, okay?
The girls were in the living room, Laila hunched over a crossword puzzle while Cat watched one of her ghost hunting shows. Cat was too transfixed by whatever weak evidence the crew was currently discussing to look their way, but she waggled her fingers in silent greeting. Laila tapped her pen twice against the corner of her mouth, filled in another row, and pointed to the other end of the coffee table.
Mail for you, Jean.
Jeremy was closer, so he scooped the postcard up and held it out in offering. Jean stared at it like he wasn t sure what he was looking at, so Jeremy took a moment to study the simple design taking up the entire front. A white crescent moon and palmetto tree sat against a deep blue background, with a pale white border following the edges.
This looks familiar, Jeremy said. I just can t quite place it.
It s the South Carolina state flag, Laila said, scribbling in another answer.
Jean finally reached out with both hands to take the card, but he was slow to turn it over. It took him only a few moments to read the short message penned on the back. Jeremy wasn t sure what it said or which Fox had sent it, but it was enough to take the tension out of Jean s shoulders for the first time that day. Jean s tired, I hate him, as he left the room narrowed down the potential list of senders to one, but Jeremy wisely didn t comment on that transparent lie.
Later that afternoon Jeremy spotted the postcard hanging on the wall over Jean s desk. Laila found him leaning against the doorway to the study room and propped herself up opposite him. Jeremy smiled at the questioning look on her face and said, I think we re in for our best year yet. Are you ready?
Last year, she said. Last chance. Let s finish it.
They hooked their pinkies together in silent promise, and Jeremy let Laila tug him down the hall.