Memories

XLV

LEVEL OF CONCERN

'Cause I told you my level of concern
But you walked by like you never heard
And you could bring down my level of concern
Just need you to tell me we're alright, tell me we're okay'

⥎
⥐

"Get up," Riko's hoarse voice hissed. Thalia took off her helmet and threw it to the side. She took out her mouthguard and spat to the side. Unsurprisingly, red blood appeared on the wooden court floors. A hand grabbed her jersey and hoisted her up. Riko's face was fierce and unforgiving, and Thalia wanted to spit in it, but knew that would get her yet another beating. Harder than the one she'd received that morning.

"I said," Riko said, this time in Japanese. Thalia's understanding of the language was limited to the three years she'd spent learning it as a child, but she knew enough of it to understand Riko wasn't happy. "get up. Are you deaf? That would be a real shame."

"Not deaf," Thalia shot back, trying to keep the blood in her mouth from spilling out. "Just selective hearing." her defiance was enough for Riko to shove her back to the ground. Thalia crippled under the force of the shove, but she quickly got back up again. The rest of the Ravens smartly kept quiet.

Thalia walked over to her helmet and picked it up. She was falling back into routines she hadn't felt the need to keep up since before she joined the Foxes and became comfortable with them. She put her guard back in and her helmet back on and walked back to position. A teammate handed her racquet to her and she mumbled a thanks.

"Training you to be dealer again is hard enough," Riko said, in Japanese again. Thalia had learned that he and Thalia were the only ones in the team who knew the language, just like she and Riko were the only ones with numbers tattooed on their faces. The four felt heavy on Thalia's cheek, just like the cleaver on her back. "I don't need your incompetence to go along with it."

Thalia didn't say anything else, but knew there would be consequences for her previous actions, no matter how insignificant they'd been.

⥎
⥐

"I don't want to play for the Trojans," Jean said. Neil sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd tried explaining the situation to him three times already, and Kevin wasn't helping.

"I thought I'd made it clear that it was either the Trojans, the Foxes, or nothing." Neil snapped. "So, let me tell you this one more time; I am going to call Jeremy Knox, he is going to send us a contract, and you are going to sign it." He looked up at Jean, who stood taller than Neil with his arms crossed and the three on his cheek that Neil now had the matching five of.

"Fine." Jean eventually said, then stormed off and went back to his room. Abby had sealed the window shut so he couldn't leave, and Andrew was currently standing right outside it to make sure he didn't try and run out the front door.

"Call him." he said. Neil nodded and pulled out the note Thalia had left him. He looked at the number under her name and put it into Kevin's phone - Neil's wasn't charged - and began the wait for Jeremy to pick up.

While he waited, Neil wondered why Thalia had signed her name with Neil's surname. It wasn't technically his. He'd created it out of pure unimagination, and hadn't ever thought that he'd keep it. The next time he ran, he would have changed it, but now there was no way he could run. There was nowhere to hide. He didn't want to leave, either. He was a Fox, and he wasn't going to run anymore.

The fact that Thalia, who'd had a hard time accepting Neil as her brother, had signed a letter with the fake surname he'd been using had made Neil feel sick and warm at the same time. He was glad she was coming to terms with it, but felt extremely bad for leaving her behind at Castle Evermore.

The phone picked up and Neil blinked to focus again. "Hello?" a cheery voice said on the other side of the line. "This is Jeremy Knox, what can I do for you?"

"Hi Jeremy," Neil started, looking at Kevin. "This is Neil Josten. I was wondering if you'd like to talk about a potential player?" Jeremy seemed to perk up, if that was even possible. Neil hadn't watched many Trojans games, but knew they were the best sportsmanship players he'd ever seen. They never got in fights, and had won some sort of award a few years in a row.

"Oh, that would be wonderful," Jeremy said. "Who are you thinking? Are you thinking of transferring to our team next season? Because I'd have to talk about that with Coach Rheman."

"Actually, I was calling to talk about Jean Moreau," that left Jeremy stumped for a moment, and when he spoke again, he was questioning.

"Jean Moreau? As in, Number Three, Backliner for the Edgar Allan Ravens?" he asked.

"That's the one." Neil said. "Look, Jeremy. There are some things going on at the moment that aren't really your concern, but it would be a huge help if you could talk to Coach Rheman about taking Jean on next season."

"Of course I'll talk to him about it," Jeremy said, still slightly unsure. "But I can't guarantee anything."

"Thanks. And by the way, this isn't my phone." Neil said. "It's Kevin Day's. Just in case you were going to save the contact under 'Neil Josten'. Don't." then he hung up. Neil wasn't used to long phone calls or conversations, though he did realise that it probably seemed a little rude. He didn't have time to think about it, though, and handed the phone back to Kevin, thanked him, and left the house. He ran until he couldn't feel his legs and almost passed out due to pain and exhaustion. He probably pulled a stitch, but he would deal with that later.