Rainbow Connection, AFTG ✔️

2.11

CHAPTER ELEVEN
JAMES

The rules changed in round three. Up until now a team's chances depended solely on its ability to win as many games as possible. From here through finals, the emphasis switched to points. The three schools that had survived the evens-bracket deathmatch would face off against each other over the next three weeks. Whichever two teams netted the most points between the games would proceed to the second elimination round. Technically a team could lose both games and still advance, but that hadn't happened in years.

Because of the odd number of teams, the Foxes would play Nevada home on February 23rd, have the following week off, and face off against Binghamton in an away game on March 9th. The week between the deathmatch and Nevada's game was a rest week, but the Foxes weren't willing to take it easy. They were as inspired as they were terrified by their win on Friday, and they didn't want to lose momentum. Luckily for them, there was no way they could slow down. Wymack kept them ramped up until Thursday.

A TV crew came by the Foxhole Court Thursday afternoon to film a segment on the Foxes for their NCAA show. The Foxes needed good publicity badly. Though practice became a start-and-stop broken mess, everything was going fairly fine. Kevin was as pleasant as he always was in front of a camera — in another life he could've been an actor.

James was asked multiple things about the Foxes progress, and he felt relieved that Riko could've force him to be a cheap product of charming arrogance anymore. He smiled, and he didn't passively comment on the other teams, and he talked about how proud he was of Kevin and Porter's growth on the Foxes. It was a short and simple reminder of the freedom James loved.

When the Ravens were brought into the conversation, James hid his eye roll, though he could still hear the edge in his voice. One of the people behind the camera asked him, "Have you spoken to Riko since your transfer?"

James sighed, just barely, and he faked a smile, "We've exchanged a few messages," He said. It wasn't technically a lie.

The three ex-Ravens — even Porter — got through their interviews fine, which naturally meant Neil had to ruin it for them. Kevin had a sharp warning stare the entire time, which Neil answered with a placid look. Though Neil managed for the first half, it was inevitable they'd finish up with a question about Riko and the Ravens. Neil tried for something neutral, but the interviewer took a good-natured jab at his newfound discretion.

"The last time I said something no one wanted to hear, my school got vandalized," Neil said. "I was trying to prevent collateral damage this time. But you know what? You're right. I can't afford to be quiet. Silence means I condone their behavior, and that's a dangerous illusion. I'm not going to forgive or tolerate them just because they're talented and popular. Let me answer that question again, okay?"

"Yes," Neil said. "I am a thousand percent sure we are going to face the Ravens in finals this spring, and I know for a fact we are going to win this time. And when the nation's best loses to a nine-man 'know-nothing' team—when they lose to a team their own coach likened to feral dogs—Edgar Allan is going to have to change things up. Personally, I think they should start by demanding Coach Moriyama's resignation."

The noise Kevin made wasn't human. The interviewer and his cameraman both shot startled looks over their shoulder at him. Kevin didn't stick around long enough for them to ask but bolted down the hall out of sight. Wymack, despite having complained numerously and at length about Neil's attitude problem, flashed his teeth in a fierce smile. Neil answered the interviewer's curious stare with a blank look and waited for the signal that he was done. As soon as the camera was off he headed back to the court.