lethal justice

Noah didn’t want to make it obvious that he was frantically scanning Basil’s face for little ticks that would give him insight on what Basil was thinking, but he remained relatively neutral. Which wasn’t a surprise, but it didn’t give Noah much of an idea on what exactly Basil was thinking when Noah asked him about Valentines.

Although, to be fair, he mostly looked bored. He really could have anyone, Noah couldn’t help but think in awe. He seemed so disinterested in being in relationships, where as Noah couldn’t wait to really get involved with someone for the first time. It would be scary, because he would have to hide his accident but… maybe with time he would tell them. He hadn’t told anyone outside of who knew when it happened, and the thought of being so vulnerable was scary but… also something he couldn’t help but crave. 

And then Basil was expressing his disbelief that Noah had never had a Valentine, and it was a touch flattering, and he was ready to say so, when Basil continued on to say that, of anyone, it would be Noah Basil would want. Of anyone here.

When there were so many amazing Foxes and Vixens. Some that had baggage, but weren’t all messed up under their clothes like Noah was. And maybe that casual admission would change if Basil really saw him, but at the moment, all he could really register was the fact that Basil had said that about Noah. Basil, who was way too cool to think of Noah as anything other than a friend, maybe even a good friend. 

He felt his face heating and he cupped his own cheeks, unable to stop a huge flustered grin from splitting his face. “R-really? I… well, oh gosh, that’s so sweet, I don’t know what to say,” Noah said, his heart thumping so loud in his ears that he was sure Basil could hear it. “You really know how to make a guy feel special,” he said, trying for somewhat semi-suave and landing somewhere closer to painfully awkward as he ducked his head, shyly looking up at Basil through his lashes.

         Unlike some people, Basil was particularly cool when it came to showing his emotions. He didn’t want people to know what he was feeling even on the best days Normally, Basil had an easier time with keeping his emotions to himself, there was just something about Noah that made it slightly more difficult to hide some of the emotions that he hid. He wasn’t sure that Noah could pick up on them still. His cool expression somehow still managed to confuse most people. He wished he could be as forthcoming with his own emotions as some people were, especially Noah. Basil wasn’t a mind reader, he knew better than to think that Noah liked him as more than a friend, but he did emote way more than Basil did.

         Relationships were a bad idea for Basil right now. he didn’t have the time that some people had to dedicate his life to being with another person. When he wasn’t studying for his classes or practicing, he was sleeping. Noah seemed like the type to be clingy—and while Basil normally could handle that, he was sure that Noah only thought of him as a friend. Plus, right now Basil just couldn’t handle a relationship. There were a lot of other things he needed to worry about. And when it came to romance, he didn’t have the emotional capacity to be there for someone. Sometimes Noah made him want to try. Hell, every time they got close, Basil ran away. He’d keep doing that too.

         He was painfully aware they weren’t alone. That one Vixen was still watching them. Who did they think they were fooling with their bright pink dress? Basil felt like Noah was just ignoring all the other people around them on purpose. He wasn’t ashamed of feeling this way. He just didn’t want anyone else around because this was a moment he wanted to share with just Noah. The Fox wished he’d taken Noah’s offer to go to Fox Tower because then at least they might be able to be alone. But a part of him had wanted them surrounded by other people—he wouldn’t be tempted to do anything stupid. Of course, he’d already said something stupid, so it wasn’t likely that he was bound to stop anytime soon.

Noah felt like he was going to shake out of his skin, being around Basil. He always wanted to go somewhere private. Somewhere quieter for them. He couldn’t help but wonder what it meant, but that was something for another time. For the moment, he was happy just nodding enthusiastically and moving to step outside, his fingers brushing Basil’s wrist so they didn’t separate. 

It was quieter outside, and it didn’t smell as heavy of booze, weed, and tobacco, and Noah couldn’t help but breathe in deep. Despite the cold, he found that he liked it outside, especially since Basil was there. Speaking of which, he spun around to face the other, smiling brightly up at him. 

“It was getting kind of stuffy in there. But it seems like everyone is having a good time! I love Valentine’s Day. It’s so fun to see everyone connecting. Did you get some Valentines? I got a couple, they were all really sweet,” he said in a rush, clasping his hands together and trying hard not to seem like he was low key probing to see how he felt about his Valentine which was so so stupid. “I’ve never had someone be my Valentine though,” he continued thoughtfully, before he smiled shyly at Basil. “I bet you have though. You’re certainly handsome enough to be asked.”

         He’d never been ashamed of who he was—not like some people. Basil was unapologetically himself no matter what. Even his sexuality never seemed like something he needed to hide. At least Anthony had never shamed him for that. He wasn’t taking Noah to a quieter spot because he was ashamed of him. He did so because even if Noah managed to block out most of the noise around him, he didn’t block out everything. Being alone with him felt intimate, like only the two of them shared this moment and the world around them stopped for just a second. In all his life, nothing like that had ever happened before and he wanted to cling to the feeling. He probably was alone in his feelings, too. There was no way that someone as bright as Noah could ever actually like him. But then there were moments that Basil could practically feel electricity and he couldn’t be alone in that.

         They weren’t completely alone outside, and he was painfully aware of that. Some Vixen walking towards the Den, completely wasted, seemed to stop when they saw Noah and Basil together. He realized he was probably the last person anyone would see at a party like this, let alone a Valentine’s day party. He didn’t mind the chill in the air and hoped Noah didn’t either. They could go back in if he did, Basil just wanted to be alone for a little bit. The Fox turned his attention back to the Vixen.

         “It was a bit loud,” he replied. Suddenly, he had no idea what the reason for bringing Noah out here was, other than to be alone. He’d wanted to be alone, but then as soon as he was, he got nervous. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize their friendship, if it could even be counted as a friendship. “I did.” He’d only gotten one and he didn’t want to think it came from Noah because he’d probably only meant it as a friend. Basil listened to Noah talk, half wondering if he was nervous or something—and why. It wasn’t as if Basil was truly intimidating or anything—at least he didn’t think he was that intimidating. In high school, Basil had dated. His boarding school wasn’t an all-boys school, so he’d had his pick of anyone at the school. He’d actually been dating someone at the time of the accident, but it had fizzled after all the stories about Basil had hit the tabloids. “I’ve had a few,” Basil told Noah truthfully. “None that really mattered though.” Looking at Noah, he tilted his head to the side slightly. “I find it kind of surprising that no one’s interested in you. You’re probably the only person here I’d ever be interested in.” 

Noah felt both a mix of relief and disappointment that Basil was in fact, not referencing the dance floor. On one hand, it would definitely be fun to show off. But on the other hand, he felt like he would be too self-conscious and embarrassed to do so around so many Foxes and Vixens, and especially in front of Basil. 

He couldn’t help but pick up on how in-eloquent Basil sounded. It was strange, and Noah wondered if Basil was feeling alright. Maybe he wanted to step outside because he was getting overwhelmed by the crowd. Noah could totally understand that, and so he nodded enthusiastically.

“Well, I suppose that checks out. Beyonce seems to be a universal favorite for a reason,” he said, nodding his head, before he tapped his chin. Deep down, he couldn’t help but feel special that Basil wanted to spend time with just him. It was a silly feeling, but it made his chest warm all the same. Somewhere more quiet… well, they could always go to his room, since they were in the Den, but the thought had him squirming. It just felt… too intimate. And he really didn’t want to scare Basil off, and so he shifted his thoughts away from there and towards where they could go outside. 

“Um, we could always go to the Tower? I doubt anyone would be there, and we could um, make brownies or something in the kitchen,” Noah offered, hoping it didn’t sound too lame. He bet Basil liked to do cool stuff like listen to classical music and read big books in his free time. He seemed so smart.

         Dancing really want something that Basil had ever felt comfortable with, regardless of knowing some basics in ballroom dancing—which weren’t useful in most situations. He tended to steer clear of parties anyway. Back when he was living with Anthony, he’d gone to a lot of parties, but it was mostly just to piss his dad off. He’d done a lot of things just to anger his dad. Now he just didn’t go to parties because he didn’t want to socialize with people. Being a shut in was better than being around a bunch of people that he really didn’t want to get to know. Basil couldn’t tell if Noah was more disappointed or relieved that he didn’t want to dance. He wanted to dance with Noah, however he also wanted to be alone with him. That thought scared him.

         This whole exchange was starting to feel awkward. Basil didn’t feel like himself. He’d never really felt like this before, nervous and afraid. There was this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach he couldn’t figure out. Every single time he was around Noah, he felt like this. When Basil wasn’t around him, he felt normal. Too many people were around, so he couldn’t ask if Noah felt the same way—and really, he didn’t think he wanted to know the answer to the question. He wasn’t here for this, he was here to play Exy. Friends were going to keep him from his goal.

         “That’s because she’s awesome,” he responded. If a person didn’t like Beyoncé, it was a clear sign to stay away from them. At least in his opinion. Basil looked around the room. The place was decorated for the occasion and he felt ridiculous for probably taking the signs from the holiday and thinking Noah liked him. The Fox was reading signs that weren’t there. Noah probably just thought about him like any friend. He saw plenty of people who were friends hold hands and there was no evidence that Noah felt anything for him. Basil was hoping that he was reading into it because he really didn’t want to hurt Noah. He was here to play Exy and get an education, romance was not even on his radar right now when there were so many other problems he had to work on.

         Basil didn’t want to leave the party this early. Then it would make it seem like he’d only come here for Noah—which, he had, but no one else needed to know that. “Maybe we can just go outside. I don’t want to leave just yet,” he said, trying to play it casual. “We can always go to the Tower later.” That was playing it cool. Basil vaguely wondered if Noah had realized that the only things he cared about were Exy and cars.

LOCATION: Courtyard DATE: Sunday, Feb. 10th TIME: Around 10:30 AM

There were decorations everywhere on campus, pinks and red and people with hearts in their eyes. It was sort of uplifting in a way, the teasing of spring in the air masked with the heavy weight of love that people tended to show off more and more with how close the holiday got. For once though, Olivia didn’t really mind it all that much. She had been spending a lot of time with Beretta, they were roommates after all but Olivia could feel something deep in her that wanted to spend more time with her than she already was. It was strange, and new, but she didn’t know what to make of it. When it came to feelings on romantic/emotional levels, Olivia was about as clueless as one could possibly be. So here she was aimlessly walking around campus, observing those who did have it all figured out, and mentally taking notes.

She paused for a moment at the valentine booth, looking at it from enough distance that they wouldn’t ask if she wanted to make one. The girl could feel her cheeks burning at the mere thought of sending one to Beretta only to look like some school girl crushing idiot. But she felt her lips turn up at the sight of flowers, wondering if maybe the opposite would happen and Beretta would smile all big like she did when she talked about her favorite shows. Still, she didn’t notice she was staring until she accidentally made eye contact with someone, only making her cheeks flush even more. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to….uh, stare. I was just zoning out.”

         The campus was completely decked out with all sorts of Valentine’s day decorations—there was so much pink and red and paper hearts. Basil didn’t exactly know what to do with himself. He was used to campus being orange and everyone not as happy and cheerful in the middle of winter. He had been trying his best to ignore the holiday. Valentine’s day wasn’t a day he ever celebrated prior to high school dances and events. Anthony had never put much effort into making sure his son had been loved and he used it to celebrate with people he actually loved rather than his own son. The Fox never had anyone to celebrate the holiday with either. Dating never seemed to go in his favor and the few he’d been on always seemed far too personal for his taste. The whole point was getting to know someone and since he didn’t want people to know him, he didn’t care for the dates. Romantic feelings just seemed more like a waste than anything else. There were plenty of other emotions that he wanted to harbor. Strangely enough though, he wasn’t annoyed as he expected this year, as he walked around campus looking at the various people all gearing up for the holiday.

         Ever since that night at the banquet all those months ago, Basil had a difficult time keeping Noah off his mind. He could focus on his classes, his homework, at practice, but every time he was alone with his thoughts, his mind went back to the bubbly Vixen. He thought about how perfectly Noah managed to calm him down in California and the way their hands fit together. He thought about the cheek kiss and how stupid he was for running away from it when the only thing going through his mind at the time was why wasn’t it more than a cheek kiss? Basil doubted that Noah felt the same way—not even his own father loved him, how could someone else? The booth was looming ahead of him though and since class let out, he wanted to send at least one to Grant. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one with the idea to send one. “No… you’re fine,” he responded, looking away from the booth. “Are you going to send one or... just hanging out here?” 

Noah wasn’t sure if it was the light making him see things, but he was pretty sure Basil seemed happy to see him. Or at least neutral about it. He didn’t turn and run or anything like that, so that had to be a good sign right? And Noah had kept his hands to himself, even though he was practically vibrating with the need to spin Basil around in a circle with his excitement. 

The compliment had him flushing a pretty crimson color, and he ducked his head, unable to stop the pleased smile that grew on his face. He wanted to play it cool, not look like a complete dope, but he couldn’t help it. He had heard that before, from his sisters, his parents, but it just… it felt different coming from Basil. It sounded different, even, and perhaps that was why it took him a couple seconds to untangle his tongue in order to answer him. 

“Oh, um, do I want to….what? Dance?” he asked, his eyebrows raising to his hairline. Noah remembered asking Basil to dance at the banquet, but that music wasn’t really anything like the music that was playing now. All harsh electro and sticky bass, stuff that Noah loved to swivel and drop his hips to in his own room, but he didn’t go out dancing like that except for with Mars and Rosie. Did… did Basil want to dance like that? With him? The thought had the heat that had started to cool in his cheeks flare back to life and his heart beat a little faster.

“Because we totally can!” he blurted, perhaps a little too fast, and he forced himself not to flap his hands like an idiot. “I just didn’t think, I dunno, that you’d like this kind of music?” 

         Basil didn’t know what he expected from Noah—for him to just pull him into a hug, hold his hand, a kiss?—but it wasn’t just standing there. He didn’t know if he was upset about it or relieved. Every time he felt like Noah was getting to close, he ran away from the conversation. He didn’t know what he wanted. The whole point of coming to Palmetto was to play Exy. Not to get involved with all the drama off court (or on court for that matter). He wasn’t supposed to find someone he enjoyed spending time with or like as much as he liked Noah. A part of him wanted to run away from all of this now that he had somewhere to go. Yet somehow he felt attached to this team. He wanted to be there until the end, maybe see where playing with the Foxes would take him. He might not be here to make friends, it just seemed like it wasn’t doing a good job at that.

         He felt stupid for saying Noah looked adorable, even if it was the truth. This Vixen was making him feel so incredibly awkward, when he shouldn’t feel that way. He rarely told people that they looked good, so when he did, it always felt unusual. With Noah it felt even more unusual. Those sorts of compliments were not the sorts of compliments that Basil felt comfortable handing out to people. It felt different with Noah too. Strangely more intimate than he expected—and he didn’t know why. All he knew was that now his mouth seemed to be saying things before he let his brain catch up. He didn’t know what he was saying or doing. Maybe it was a mistake coming to this party when he could be practicing on court or finishing up his homework. It didn’t feel right to run away though. Not again.

         “No, no. I, uh…” he was trying to ask if Noah wanted to find a quieter place to be. Parties like this weren’t his style—in general, he tended to stay away from all sorts of parties. He rarely listened to music like this and didn’t drink that much. He felt awkward, uncomfortable, and out of place at parties. Especially at a Fox and Vixen party. He made a point of never hanging out with the Foxes outside of practice, so he felt like an intruder here at this party when they were all celebrating their win yesterday. Basil was only here because he thought maybe trying would make him feel better, so far he hadn’t gotten the satisfaction. The only person he really wanted to see was the person standing in front of him. Basil let out a sigh, trying to find the courage to say something that didn’t sound like he was actually an idiot.

         “I don’t really… listen to this kind of music,” he admitted. “I mean other than Beyoncé. But who doesn’t like Beyoncé?” Basil looked down at Noah. “I just… was hoping that maybe we could go somewhere… with less people?”

Where: The Party

When: Friday, February 16th

Who: @basilwalcott

Despite the fact that a whole day had passed, Noah could still feel himself vibrating from the win. It had been so intense! Noah had been on the edge of his seat the whole time, and his voice was hoarse from how much he had been screaming at the top of his lungs. He was sure Patch was annoyed that he kept asking him to hold him up, but he couldn’t really care about that at the moment. 

And Basil!!! Noah was bursting with pride and delight, and all he really wanted to do was tackle him in a bear hug and squeal about how cool he was! About how amazing he was on the Court! But he was swept away with the other Vixens, and Basil went to press duty and well, he just couldn’t find him after that. But if he were to be anywhere, he might be at the party, which was why Noah was practically vibrating by the wall, up on his tippy toes to try and catch a glimpse of Basil.

He was starting to wilt at the thought that maybe he just wasn’t going to show, when he caught sight of him slipping in and surveying the room cooly. Noah was already pushing through the crowd to pop up by his side. He would’ve immediately went in for a hug, but he was all too aware of the fact that Basil had ditched last time when Noah was too affectionate, so he reigned it in.

The other side of him was wondering if Basil knew about the Valentine he had sent. He ended up going with a haiku in an attempt to seem more refined. And he wondered if Basil could see through him. 

But he was more interested in practically glowing as he smiled at him, clasping his hand in front of him. “Oh my god Basil! You were so amazing on the court yesterday! I’m so glad you came because I just had to say that you were like, so cool! I swear I screamed myself hoarse!” he gushed, his eyes practically starry with the way he looked up at him. 

         The game had been an intense one, and Basil still wasn’t sure what exactly to make of it. He was happy that the Foxes had won their game and proud of himself for helping—yet now he felt like he was one step closer to being part of the team. Like now he couldn’t entirely lie about not wanting to be a Fox. He wasn’t even convincing himself these days because the more the was here with the Foxes, he more he felt connected to them. Each game seemed to be more intense than the last one. Basil had a rocky start with the Foxes and not much had changed his opinion of the Foxes, but there were some moments when being a part of this team didn’t feel as terrible as he wanted it to be. Somehow, there were Foxes that still cared about him, despite his lack of effort in getting to know them all. The game had given him a reason to stay with the Foxes—and given him fewer excuses to stop being so distant from them. Perhaps there was something to being a team off the court.

         After the game and press duty, Basil had decided to get some rest because he was tired. Press duty always took a lot out of him, and because of how on edge he was watching the shootout, he was exhausted. While the rest of the Foxes probably went out on the town since they were in Los Angeles, he thought it was a better option to get some rest. He had been correct about his suspicion that his father wouldn’t show up, but being in California still wasn’t a place Basil wanted to spend time in. There honestly had been a part of him that wanted to go and celebrate the win with his teammates—show up at whatever club the majority of them were at, have fun dancing, and celebrating the win as a team. And that thought scared him so much, that he’d decided to be alone for the rest of the night.

         He almost decided against going to the Valentine’s Day party. Now that the team was back in Palmetto, Basil felt less on edge and was starting to calm down from their win. His mind was back to practical mode. The Foxes could still win, they just had to keep up the work. Basil had spent part of the day on court, trying not to let everything else distract him. Though his mind kept going back to the party, celebrating with his teammates both their win and a day spent with loved ones. It was stupid. He didn’t even have any loved ones. Basil barely appreciated being able to play Exy on a good day and he didn’t appreciate half of his teammates. People like him weren’t welcome at the party. The more time he spent on court practicing though, the more he wanted to be there. He hadn’t seen Noah since his freak out the last time they were in California—and he wanted to make up for it. By the time Basil decided to head back to Fox Tower to get ready, the party had already started.

         When he walked in, a part of him almost expected his teammates and the Vixens to just look at him and tell him to get out. No one did that and he probably was going to get away with no one paying attention to him the entire time he was here. That wasn’t the case however, when only a few moments of walking in, Noah had found him. Was he like… a Noah magnet or something? Basil smiled at him. “Thanks,” he responded, shifting from foot to foot as he looked down at Noah. “You, um, look adorable.” Why are you so awkward? he thought. “Do you... want to... I don’t know.” 

         Being in California this time isn’t as uncomfortable as being in Sacramento—and it’s been a while since the conversation with his father. He’s sure that Anthony isn’t going to take the time or effort into going all the way to Los Angeles just to threaten Basil—again. This time, Basil felt safe being in California and he was ready for the game. Their last loss had pissed him off because once again the Foxes were proving to be a team he didn’t want to be on. They couldn’t let go of their drama long enough to win one game. This game was their final chance to prove that they were good enough to be in the championships. He had mentally prepared himself for a loss. Which would have meant spending the rest of the semester moping around while he pretended that he was confident in the Foxes ability next year. If they had lost, he didn’t know if he could keep up what little faith he had in his team. By the end of the first half of the game, Basil was ready to get in the mix of it all, prove himself to his teammates. For once, he felt like he played a good game, stopping the final Bruins’ shot that had bound to make it had he not stopped it. Coming off the court by the end of the game, he’d felt proud even—and then he sat on the edge of his seat while they played through the shootout.

         The locker room was an absolute mess as he files his way inside. Basil barely listened to the excited chatter of his teammates, his mind still on the game in general. That was not what he was expecting the game to be—and it almost made all this worth it. He didn’t care about the smiles on his teammates faces or how happy they were that the Foxes had won. Basil cared that maybe there was something about this team after all, when it came down to it, they usually pulled a damned miracle. There’s even more chatter as the Foxes are joined by the cast of On The Line. He doesn’t care about that, trying to focus on who Wymack’s assigning to press duty. The freshman barely hears his name called. Great, he thinks. That might be the one way to ruin the night, depending on how mean the press is tonight. For a second he stands there, hoping that he hadn’t heard that correctly, but Wymack hadn’t taken his eyes of Basil. Internally, he’s rolling his eyes. Externally, he’s attempting to keep a smile on his face. Just don’t talk about Anthony. It had been a while since the press had written anything interesting about him—and he isn’t sure what to make about being assigned press duty with Indigo. Basil doesn’t have anything against her, like he doesn’t with most of the Foxes, but she isn’t a Fox he wants to spend his time with. He pushes past the rest of the Foxes until he makes it over to her.

         “Let’s just get this over with. Maybe they won’t be assholes tonight.”

Basil stares at her long enough to leave her feeling defensive. The urge to snap at him grows stronger the longer he stays silent, until he finally speaks up. “Suit yourself,” Sasha sighs before tucking the bag against her side. It doesn’t matter to her either way, it just means she has more for herself. Uncomfortable silence falls between them, causing her to debate whether she should just walk faster to put some distance between them. 

During their time on the team together, Basil and Sasha rarely spoke. She has the impression that he isn’t interested in making friends with the Foxes, and that isn’t a priority for her either, so she’s completely content with ignoring each other. What she knows about Basil is limited to what’s been on the news and FoxWatch, which definitely isn’t boring. Sasha has her own dark past when it comes to car accidents, but she can’t help but be a little envious that he managed to crash his car into the building of his father’s company. It’s a move she would only dream of pulling on Irina, but she wouldn’t dare. 

Now, he has a new car that’s practically dripping in money, and she wonders how he pulled that off. Would his dad actually get him that after he showed he obviously can’t be trusted with fancy cars? Then again, Sasha has her Bentley after what she did, but it came with a price. She doesn’t see Basil leaving practice to go to AA meetings. 

“I’ve seen your new car,” She speaks up with a raised brow. “I’m surprised you pulled that off after crashing into a building.”

         He wonders if anyone actually believes that he doesn’t care about the Foxes. He’s only on the team because he has no other options. Every other team had decided they didn’t want a kid like him on their team and because his father cut him off, he didn’t have anywhere else to go. Well—that wasn’t true now. If he wanted to, he could quit the Foxes and go live in England with his mother. Basil had an out now. He didn’t want to quit. Perhaps there was a part of him that wanted to prove to his father that he could survive on his own, but deep down Basil knew the reason he was here was less selfish than that. He wanted to help the Foxes win. He wouldn’t admit that to a single person though because none of them needed to know he was anything other than a boy with rough edges.

         Basil did his best to avoid the Foxes outside of practice, unless he had practice with them. He made excuses every time the rest of his team did anything that was to help them bond. He didn’t think he needed to bond with them outside the court, when he did a fair enough job on the court with them. Basil wasn’t here for friends. He was here to play Exy and get an education. As much as he didn’t want to interact with them, it somehow didn’t stop them from speaking to him, much to his dismay. He knew that he could walk away from any of them at any time, he just wanted to give the impression that he cared. Sasha was one of the Foxes that Basil did his best to avoid. She took her anger out on court—and he understood that to a degree, he didn’t know if he could stop himself from being snarky to her. Basil never put weight into what the press said about anyone because he knew how they’d lied about him. As much as he knew about Sasha from the press, he also knew it probably was not the full story. Basil didn’t care enough to ask her about it, especially when parts of it mirrored his own incident.

         As interesting as this conversation would have been if it had just stayed about food, Basil knew it wasn’t going to stay that way—and his suspicion was right. Her question was… invasive to say the least and downright nasty at worst. He didn’t know if he could play nice in this situation. Especially since she’s the one driving a Bentley around after her own accident. For a second he doesn’t say anything, only glares at her. “It’s from my mother,” he said simply. As if it would explain anything. Anthony wouldn’t give him another car if Basil had begged him for one. “She doesn’t know shit about what happened.” And he wanted to keep it that way for now. “Didn’t see you at the second half of practice, oh wait.” 

In Owls Bend, family was everything—especially if you were a Hoskins. When Glory was born, she already had four siblings. Within five years, she’d have two more. In a brood like that, Glory was a Hoskins before she was her own person: they went into town in a pack, to church in a pack, to school in a pack, and everyone whispered about them altogether: her father’s string of women, his many children, the way he was never around to keep them all in line—but at least, they said, Justice was, was serious and sensible and responsible in a way that Gideon Hoskins never was.

Maybe Glory had wanted to find a way to stand out from all that. Or maybe she just had just stood out all on her own anyway. She was always wilder than the rest, whether that meant climbing trees and terrorizing her siblings and always having dirt on her feet, or whether that meant sneaking out and getting wasted, replacing the dirt on her feet with a different stain that wouldn’t wash off so easily. 

She had been thinking about her family when she left. She’d been thinking about Justice. About how she couldn’t stay under his roof for a day longer, not when he was madder at her than he’d ever been, not when all the dreams of escape and a different life she’d built had crumbled to dust in her hands once before. 

She hadn’t been thinking that she’d miss them. She hadn’t thought she’d miss anything about Owls Bend. It was stupid of her: that town had been her whole life; all she’d ever known. She knows she can’t go back, and she doesn’t really want to: she knows she never quite fit there, she just isn’t sure yet if she fits anywhere else. 

“I never knew my mom at all,” Glory offers, though she knows it’s not the same. Glory had more family than she knew what to do with. How could she even notice that a mother was missing, especially when it was someone she’d never met? She had her father, who fondly indulged her, like out of all his children he saw something in Glory that was most like himself, and that would’ve been enough for her if only he’d stayed around. But then, that’s why they were the same: Glory knows, now, all about needing to go. “Don’t even know how I would even start to go lookin’ for her. It’s nice that you get to know yours. Does she watch you play?”

         The Walcott name might have been important to everyone else in the family, except Basil. He never felt like he belonged with them. They had all made him feel like an outsider because they hadn’t wanted him to belong. He felt like public enemy number one in his household at all times. Everywhere he went, his family name carried a certain power that he never wanted to be associated with. Basil never fit in with them. It was almost as if his name was borrowed because now it just felt like he’d stolen it. He had no connection to his father anymore—the Walcott family didn’t want him anymore. Yet he still used the name and it still had pull around certain people. Basil wondered if things would be different if he’d been part of another family; one where he didn’t have to feel like he was a traitor and outsider. If his mother had raised him, would he think a completely differently about family? Would he be more of a functional person?

         Now that he was away from the Walcotts, he was slowly starting to learn that some people actually did care about other people. He might not be one of those people, but there were people that did care about others. Basil couldn’t begin to understand how someone else could just accept another person without learning more about them. The Foxes and Vixens were like that. Not all of them were the same and there were clearly some that didn’t feel the same way about their teammates, but for the first time in Basil’s life, he didn’t feel like he was being judged. He was here because he was a good Exy player—not because of Anthony’s name and not because of Anthony’s money. He was here on his own merit. No matter what happened, Basil didn’t want the rest of his team to know how he felt. That maybe he was slowly coming around to the idea that not all of them were terrible. And he was surprised that not a single part of him missed his father.

         He was surprised to hear someone just admitting information about themselves to someone like him. Basil was not the friendliest of Foxes. Though he was telling her information in return. “That sucks. Maybe one day you’ll meet her.” Basil felt strange being slightly optimistic for once. “Unless you don’t want to meet her.” If someone didn’t stick around, they probably had their reasons for not doing so. He wondered if Glory’s mom was like that or if something had happened. “She doesn’t even know I play Exy.” While Exy was important to Basil, he didn’t really know how to tell his mother about the violent sport he was playing. “I think she’d probably watch if I told her about it.” 

Location: Fox Tower Parking Lot Date: Tuesday, February 5  Time: After afternoon practice (open)

While Irina was happy to send Sasha across the country for school, it still came with a price, weekly AA meetings. Every Tuesday, Sasha left practice early, so she could sit in a cold room, listen to the same introductions over and over, pretend to pay attention to people’s stories, and spin together elaborate tales of how she turned her life around to keep her sponsor happy. Her mother thought by forcing her to go to AA that she was keeping her control over her, but Sasha knows how to play the game to make her mother happy, but keep her freedom.

Sasha hates her weekly meetings, but it has it’s perks. Leaving practice early when she isn’t even playing the next game is a huge plus, picking up tacos on the way back from AA is another added benefit. After parking her Bentley, she steps out of the white car, a paper bag in one hand in and a tortilla chip in the other. A few other cars park beside hers, and she can see her exhausted teammates heading back to the dorm. Practice must’ve just ended. She wouldn’t be surprised if it was a late one after their last game–a loss she contributed in.

When she fell into step with one of her teammates, she held up her takeout bag as an offering. “Post practice chips?” She asks with a raised brow. “They gave me enough to share with the whole team, I’m pretty sure.” She should probably feel guilty that they had to practice so hard, while she got to leave, considering she was the one who got in that fight, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t regret her red card, and she’s going to make the most of a shitty situation Irina forced her into.

          Most of the time, the only thing that made being at Palmetto worth it was practice. Basil didn’t like the Foxes, that much was clear from his attitude and inability to talk to most of the Foxes outside practice. But he had to admit that none of that mattered when they were on court. At practice they were a team. Bonding outside of practice was just pointless. Knowing that someone came from a broken home didn’t help them play better as a team. They were all from broken homes, poor situations, or some fucked up thing happened to them. That was the point of being a Fox. After practice, Basil usually took his time heading back to Fox Tower to work on his homework or whatever else needed to be done. The majority of the Foxes pretty much left him to his own devices because they didn’t want to deal with his attitude. And since no one seemed to call him out on it, he didn’t feel the need to change. 

          As angry as he was, Basil did his best to not take his anger out on court. He didn’t want there to be a reason he couldn’t play in a game. He refused to get a red card. The whole reason for being at this school was to play Exy. Maybe because it was the only choice he had left. As much as he wanted it to not be. Basil didn’t understand why people couldn’t control their anger on court. He wouldn’t compromise playing in a game even if he was angry all the time. Still, he couldn’t control everyone else on court and he knew it. Even Grant didn’t seem to have that power. Otherwise the Foxes wouldn’t get so many red cards. He might be determined to play clean games, but others weren’t and as much as it irritated him, he didn’t think he could change it. Who was he to complain about it when he was only a freshman? 

          What he wasn’t expecting was someone to try and talk to him after practice. He wasn’t expecting it to be Sasha. Basil just stared at her for a moment, wondering why she was talking to him. Out of all the Foxes, Sasha was one that was a mystery to him. He’d read the stories on her, but he wouldn’t put it past the media to twist the story. He didn’t put much thought into anything they reported on. But she still didn’t make sense to him. “I don’t want any, thanks.” He wondered if she felt obligated to offer them, or if she was actually being genuine. 

“And what exactly is old to you honey? A horse-drawn carriage?” Mars asks with the barest hint of a smile, her eyebrow rising at a sharp angle. That confirms it. Basil Walcott comes from money. Old money. The type of money that cares about the vintage pedigree of a product and doesn’t see 60 years as significant.

She just barely manages to avoid rolling her eyes at him. There’s nothing she finds more boring than antiquing. Her world revolves around the new. The newest trends in fashion, the newest make up products. She doesn’t have time to care about the dusty old history of a car or some rich boy’s family.

Unless of course, it can make her some coin. She looks Basil up and down again and wonders if there’s a way she can twist him into knots. She’s wrapped hotter guys than him around her finger before but she’s not sure if she’s ever bagged richer.  It’d be a shitty thing to do to Noah maybe, but Mars has always put business before friendships and Basil Walcott could be good business if she learns just where to press him to make the money come out. 

She supposes that the bright and bubbly route is viable. It’s certainly seemed to work for Noah, though he has the advantage and curse of being a genuinely sweet little cinnamon roll. Mars can’t relate but she’s a good actress, she knows how to pretend to be someone else long enough to get what she wants from somebody. 

She smiles a little brighter and pretends to be looking at his car with interest.

 “I can think of a couple things I’d do with a fancy car from my grandpa,” she says, side-eyeing Basil to see if he catches the insinuation she’s making.

“Road trips for sure.” 

         According to family history, the Walcotts hadn’t started making their money until the 70s. He didn’t really think that cars from the 60s were that old because he personally thought they were more modern than anything else. Maybe to someone else they were, but to him, he preferred to think of cars from the 30s as more antique, when they were truly pieces of artwork. “I think cars from the 30s are old. Back when they were, you know, works of art and not as mass produced as they were by the 60s.” They were still made in factories in the 30s, but in a different way. Maybe his opinion was unusual, but he preferred some of the first models of cars, then when they became a bigger thing in society.

         “Either way… this car’s not uncommon in England.” For some reason, it probably wasn’t true, but he always thought of everything over in England as being old. Everything seemed old, even if it wasn’t old. People just held onto the things they had. He hadn’t gotten much of a taste of it while he was over there, so his opinion was probably wrong—but yet, even the new items over there seemed old in a way. His opinion couldn’t be that far off then.

         He doesn’t get to talk about cars that often anymore since he didn’t have one—and talking about them was just a reminder that he didn’t have a car anymore. Now that he did, he could talk about them again. Basil got the impression that Mars didn’t give a shit about cars. Whatever she wanted though; he probably wasn’t the person for the job. Maybe she was just bored enough to listen to him talk about his passion for the car. She probably had an ulterior motive. There was a part of him that didn’t care. She couldn’t get anything from him. He looked at her, trying to figure out what part of his speak was interesting to her.

Noah couldn’t help but feel his already huge smile grow at Basil’s tiny one, feeling a flush of warmth fight the chill a bit more than body heat and jackets alone could do. Noah hoped that he could continue to make Basil smile, because his smile was as charming as the rest of him, and it made Noah feel…. Good when he smiled. In a different way than when others did. He wondered if it had anything to do with how sad and serious Basil seemed to look all the time.

But that hardly mattered, not when Basil was going into his trip with his mother. “No no! Visiting family isn’t boring at all! And besides! You got to see Big Ben! That isn’t just staying inside,” Noah said with a little bounce, before his eyes widened at Basil’s offer. He felt his mouth fall open with surprise; no one had ever asked him to do anything like that before. Not before his accident, and certainly not after. Who would want to spend that much time with him except his family?

But Basil was asking him to go to England and Paris and to meet his Mom, and Noah felt his chest swell with something he couldn’t name, and his cheeks flush with a mixture of excitement and something shyer, although he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Oh Basil,” he said, nearly breathless with the idea. “That sounds wonderful!” he practically exploded, squeezing his hands tight in his, his eyes practically sparkling. “I’ve never been overseas before! I’ve always wanted to visit London! And oh, Paris! It would be so amazing,” he said dreamily, his gaze far off for the moment thinking of dimly lit cafe’s and boat-rides. He snapped back after a moment, staring at Basil like he had hung the moon and stars, before he suddenly rocked up onto his tip-toes to plant a kiss on Basil’s cheek, unable to hold back the surge of affection he felt.

“We should definitely do that! We really really should!” Noah cried, his cheeks beginning to hurt with how much he was smiling at the other.

         His companion’s wide smile almost made him smile wider, but he didn’t—he couldn’t bring himself to. Basil liked making Noah smile because it made him feel like he was an actual human being for once instead of someone trying to pretend to be human and failing. Honestly, all Basil wanted was to feel like he was free from the burden that Anthony put him through on a daily basis. He’d come to Palmetto only because it was the last place he could go—because at the time he didn’t have anywhere else to go. Now he did. Now he could go to England and give his mother a chance. But he didn’t want to. He could still give her a chance and see where the Foxes went.

         “It was kind of boring, Noah.” No one really wanted to hear him talk about his tales of talking to his mother for the first time. The awkwardness of the two of them trying to get to know each other. It wasn’t the grandest of holidays. He’d had better ones, but it was nice to have one that was a little more laid back. “We didn’t go anywhere or do anything interesting. I didn’t even get to do any shopping except at the airport.” He couldn’t imagine a better holiday because at least he had felt like he was wanted. Unlike every other holiday in the past where he was just there.

         He didn’t think that it was asking much. Basil had never had friends that he’d wanted Anthony to meet. They were all the same people: rich boys who wanted attention from their families. Cut straight from every television show featuring people like him. They weren’t good people, even if they’d been good friends. Basil didn’t want Anthony meeting Noah. He’d tear the boy apart without a second thought because Noah was kind. Far too kind to someone like Basil, with his sharpness and inability to let his emotions show on his face. The fact that he wanted Noah to meet his mother, spoke highly of both of them. That Noah was important and that his mother was someone he wanted other people to know. “You deserv…” he started, and then felt his face flush over a kiss—and how he felt about the kiss.

         “I… um, I’ve got to go.” It didn’t matter that they were halfway to the diner. He couldn’t spend a second more with Noah and this stupid light feeling in his chest. What kind of madness was this? 

She ignores the car. When she looks at the car, and looks back at Basil, she doesn’t like him. If she just looks at him, and thinks about what he said about his mother, then he looks sympathetic. Someone that doesn’t make her want to bristle and roll her eyes. Both the cars. 

Glory never knew her mother. The way her father talks about her, she was like a whirlwind that blew into his life and then out again, just long enough to create Glory and leave her behind. He still sounded fond of her, though, when he talked about her. Not the way he talked about Justice and Charity and Virtue’s mother, who left to live in another town with another man. Or about Amma and Baby Grace’s mother, who left and took them away. Maybe it was better that way: to leave while there was still love left, before it could turn to hatred. 

She wonders, sometimes, what that means for her. Of all the dreams she had of a life with someone else at her side. She knows they were foolish: even in Owls Bend, girls don’t always stay with the boys they thought they loved when they were sixteen. But, sometimes, she thinks that what she hates more than anything else is that she’ll never get to know what they could have been. How far they could have made it. They were robbed of that. 

In her head, Owls Bend is just how she left it. But she has no way of knowing if that’s true. Someone could have done what Glory had done, and Charity before her, and run away. Her father could have started dating again, Glory could have more half-siblings. Glory could have nieces or nephews, Justice could have finally moved out and started his own family, even if that meant relinquishing his control over his siblings.

Someone could be hurt, someone could be sick. Like Basil’s mother. And she would have no way of knowing.

“Oh,” she says, and her voice sounds small. She swallows once, and tries to find it again with a little more strength in it. She hasn’t ever been the sweet type, the touchy-feely type, the one that her siblings came to for sympathy. Even when she feels it, the words feel clumsy in her mouth. “That’s—real awful. I’m sorry. You didn’t grow up with her?”   

         As much as he didn’t want to fit in with the Foxes and be a part of them, Basil knew there was no denying that he was every bit as Fox as everyone else on the team. That didn’t mean that he had to like it. He still hadn’t admitted that he belonged here to anyone, even the few reluctant friends he’d made. He wouldn’t even call them friends to their faces. He didn’t want to get close to these people because they’d just leave him—they wouldn’t understand. So maybe he plays into the slighted rich kid stereotype just a little too much so that’s all people see. Basil’s reputation means nothing to him at this point; he knows he’s never going to change the opinion of everyone around him anyway.

         The way Anthony had talked about his mother made her seem like a terrible person—made Anthony seem like a saint for taking his son away from her. All his life he’d been told she didn’t want him, she wanted nothing to do with him, and the evidence showed that. But Basil had long since learned just how much of a liar Anthony had been. It was him that had used Basil. His father had never cared about Basil as anything other than a tool to make him look better. It was why he turned his cheek at Basil’s treatment by his family, why he’d never cared about his wife and stepchildren’s treatment of his son, why whenever Basil fucked up he did nothing. If anything, it was a relief to know that Anthony had lied about his mother too.

         His stepmother had never cared about him, never once even tried. At first Basil thought she was second best to his father—but then she must have picked up that she came first, or at least she came in second to Anthony himself. Still she had continued her poor treatment of Basil. He never thought he deserved that. Never one in his life did he think he deserved the treatment he’d gotten from them all. He was better than that. They were the problem. That’s what kept him from breaking. Up until the accident, he continued to think like that, to remind himself he was in the right. But it was hard to think like that now, when everything was shit and he had nothing except the constant reminder that he was a Fox.

         For some reason, it was easier to talk about his mother than it was anything else. If the other Foxes read the news, they would know what Basil went through. He spoke like everything was alright—like he was alright because maybe he was. It was difficult to feel sorry for someone he barely knew, even if she was his mother. The two of them still had a long way to go. He shrugs and looks away from the car for a second. “It’s okay,” he responds, and even though it wasn’t, he has to stay strong. He refuses to show his weakness. “I didn’t.” How could he talk about that without revealing anything? “At the time she wasn’t ready to be a mother.” Close enough to the truth. “But now things are different now, I guess.” 

In her sappier moments, Mars likes to watch those before and after videos of abused cats and dogs getting rescued and sent to good foster homes. There is some part of her that is fundamentally gooey with a soft nougaty center, and it melts whenever she sees an angry, scared animal come out of a foster home looking happy and bright and brand new. 

Watching Basil Walcott talk now is kind of like watching the middle portion of one of those videos. She can imagine him as a dog, some hoity upscale breed with stubby little legs and a face like a pancake, slowly creeping out from beneath the couch for his first pet in years. And if he were a dog, even an ugly inbred one, Mars would totally melt at this moment.

But Basil Walcott isn’t a dog. He isn’t even cute. So mostly Mars just feels kind of taken aback. This is a big change from the unhappy gremlin who skulked around the Vixen Den waiting for Noah. He’s like, nice now, friendly even, and Mars has heard him speak more in the past few minutes than she has in the whole year. 

It’s kind of…unsettling really. Mars wonders how long he can stay this happy before the other shoe drops and he regresses right back to tired stick-in-the-mud she remembers. 

But that’s not something you say to a rich boy with an expensive car, at least not until you make sure that you can’t wring any money out of him, so Mars just smiles and nods and does her best to look interested in the family history of an ugly car that she will never drive. “Ah, well, that explains how it looks,” she says through a wooden smile, glancing again at the car. “Kinda cool that you got the family heirloom on wheels. What’d your mom end up doing with the money?”

         Basil doesn’t really know what to do without anger. He’s been angry for so long that without that emotion he’d feel lost. It’s kept him from making real connections. He doesn’t understand what he’d done to have this life. Why had Anthony even taken him in the first place when he clearly wasn’t capable of raising a child? There were so many questions that Basil had and probably would never know the answers to. Somehow his anger is the only thing that’s gotten him through all of this—and he feels the emotion slipping away with every moment he spends with the Foxes.

         He’s accepted his fate of being a Fox. Maybe he does belong here with these people. He doesn’t want to belong or know them or talk to them about his own problems. But he’s accepted that he’s like them. That he’s just as broken as the rest of them. While he’s starting to believe that, it’s his anger that’s continuing to keep him from getting close to the Foxes still. He might belong, but he doesn’t want to belong and he sure as hell is not going to drag them into his own problems. He’ll keep them all at arm’s length, even Noah. No one else needs to be involved with his dad.

         Talking cars is the only thing that might get him out of his shell, even a little bit. He’d talk about cars all day. The car his mother gave him might not be the car of his dreams, however it was something. Anything that could make him feel like he wasn’t trapped in Palmetto was good enough for him. There were days when he just needed an escape and his only escape now was walking, which never got him far enough. Maybe being excited and showing a little emotion—other than anger—was a little unusual for him. He wasn’t thinking about that.

Sometimes, in the rush of all of this us-versus-them, the Foxes against the football team, the Foxes against the ERC, the Foxes against the world, she forgets. Forgets that there are people on this team like Basil. Spoiled boys preening over fancy cars, like they mean anything at all. Or like they make them better than other people. He’s not the only one. They’re all Foxes, which means they all must have something in common, but sometimes Glory can’t see it.

Glory came from Owls Bend. A town where no one had much—and, even then, her family was known for having less than anyone else. They had their land, and the pride that kept them holding on to it even when it was losing money, and they had each other, and none of those things seemed to impress anyone else very much. 

Justice had bought his own car when Glory was in middle school, and he was real proud of it. Never drove his other siblings anywhere, unless he was rewarding some kind of good behavior—usually telling on someone else, and usually that someone was Glory—because he didn’t want them messing it up. But even that was just another truck, just newer and shinier than their dad’s. 

So Glory knows a lot about messing up cars. She’d pushed all of Justice’s buttons, just to prove that she could, just to show that she wasn’t afraid of him—even when she was. She’d never broken it, nothing that would have ruined it or cost real money to fix, just dirtied it up a little. She’s not sure anyone else would show Basil’s car the same consideration. 

She looks at the car again, a little more than the cursory look she’d first granted it. It looks old, the kind of thing that people keep in garages and under tarps, not just drive to Exy practice or to the grocery store. And then she sees the steering wheel. And that’s something she’s never seen before. “You gonna drive this thing?” She asks, gesturing. “Is that even legal?” And even if it is, the whole thing seems even more ridiculous to her: the car might be old, and it might be fancy, but in the end it’s not even as practical as Glory’s father’s old pickup truck. 

But something else Basil said tugs at her, turns her focus back from the shiny wheels of his car and to him, as she frowns: “Is your mom okay?”

         No one had ever been on Basil’s side—not his father, not his grandparents, not even his friends—so he can’t imagine a world where there’s someone that wants to be on his side. Maybe the Foxes are, but he doesn’t want them to be. He doesn’t want to have anything in common with the rest of them because admitting it means that he’s bonding with them and when he’s disappointed in the end, he doesn’t want to have a single attachment to anyone. He can’t hurt again, so he stays clear of all emotions and any connection to the rest of the team. It’s him against the whole world, even his own team.

         Of course, he knows that there are little reminders that tell him he’s not as alone as he thinks. The rest of the Foxes have their own tragedy. They’re from broken homes or messed up situations and they don’t fit in. Basil’s never wanted to be like that—he’s just never fit in with anyone. He might be from a family that had everything, but that was only from the outside. He doesn’t have anything anymore and honestly he likes feeling alone. Because at least now he’s only a disappointment to himself. His past is behind him now, a part of him. There’s a tangled, messed up connection to the Walcott’s, but even he doesn’t want to be a part of that family anymore. He was never going to belong there.

         He still has a connection to that past though and part of that means his style and taste. He isn’t the only rich Fox, though Basil doesn’t even know if he can consider himself rich anymore. The money had never been his own. Everything he’d had in the past was Anthony’s—or the Walcott’s or his step mother’s. The only thing he had now was his reputation and his team, only one of which he was willing to own up to. So despite having a story that makes him fit in with the rest of the Foxes, he still doesn’t feel like he belongs with them. Most of them think he’s probably just some rich kid who made a mistake and is now paying for it. No one has ever bothered to ask the truth, so he doesn’t bother to tell them.

         The car came from England, so the steering wheel was on the other side. It was not the strangest thing Basil had driven, though it would be unusual. He can tell that it was strange to Glory though. “It is. But I won’t really drive it that often. Just when I need to get away.” Maybe that would be more often than he admitted. His mother had kept it in good condition over the years. “I don’t know why anyone would own a car they didn’t drive. I drove both the cars I had when I was living with Anthony.” Maybe that was a tad bit privileged; except it was the truth.

         He could lie about his mother, he just didn’t see a reason to. Basil didn’t know her all that well: his mother or Glory. “She’s not,” he admits. “She’s sick and she isn’t going to get better.” Just his luck, he manages to find someone that actually might care about him and she’s going to leave him soon. “But it’s okay. At least I’m able to be a part of her life if only for a little bit.” Basil did not understand his mother’s illness at all, he just knew she was not going to get better. 

A highlighter? Emmett could believe that. Although he wasn’t entirely sure if Basil meant it as a compliment or an insult. He elected to take it as a compliment after a minute of deliberation. Basil is a mean guy…but Emmett’s not getting the usual mean vibe from him…yet. He smiles wider and nods, scanning the field for no other reason than he wanted to. There’s nothing going on out there that Emmett even remotely understands. “Hey. Someone has to be the school spirit here.” Emmett pointedly looks at the one orange thing Basil is wearing. It’s not an insult or anything, just another fact of the matter. “At least you’re wearing something. Unlike half of the team.” He sounds just a touch disappointed, he can hear it. He knows it’s a lot to ask…getting along with the football team…but the least they could do is try, right?

“Don’t feel too alone. I’m pretty sure everyone on the team doesn’t have a clue what’s going on out there.” He motions vaguely to the field. “I’m mostly just yelling with the crowd. They clearly know what’s happening.” He shrugs. “Can’t promise I haven’t been cheering at some of the wrong moments too.” He laughs. “I seem to understand that when one of our players has the ball we’re supposed to cheer…although it’s hard to keep track of where the damn ball is when they all pile on top of each other. We’d all get red cards with we did that on our court.”

“This sport is weird.” He leans back on the seat as much as he can’t without having to use his hands to hold himself up. “I honestly can’t wait for it to be over because win or lose at least the football team knows how to party and I plan on being there for every moment of that. What about you?”

         Unlike the rest of the Foxes, Emmett stood out among them all with his very orange outfit. At least Basil managed to put on a Palmetto shirt, even if that shirt was white with orange letters rather than the obnoxious orange like Emmett was wearing. Normally, he wouldn’t think twice about talking to someone like Emmett—because he didn’t like to talk to anyone—but there’s not that many people who actually seem to be in the mood to talk. Football isn’t a sport he’s ever liked and he doesn’t understand the rules of it either, so he’d rather carry on a conversation with someone he doesn’t like than pretend he’s paying attention to the game. He just wishes that the Vixens are here instead of cheering. “Do they really? Because it looks like the Vixens are doing a fine job of being the school spirit,” he replied, glancing down at the field to where they were cheering along side the other squad. “No offense to the football team or anything, but they’re kind of assholes to us and while I don’t necessarily like the Foxes, they’re bullies and I don’t want to support them.” At least the Foxes had valid excuses not to support them.

         “At least someone has to know something about football,” he said as he glanced at the rest of his teammates, who all seemed bored. “We can’t all be clueless when it comes to football.” Basil had never gotten into football. Most of the private schools he went to didn’t have sports or the ones that they did have were ones that were classier than football and Exy. The only reason his boarding school had Exy is because someone begged the administration a few years ago—and they somehow agreed to it. Lucky for him. “Yeah, well… it seems like a boring sport anyway, so learning the rules just seems like a fucking waste.”

         He doesn’t want to be here and he doesn’t want to party with the rest of the team later on, win or lose. But he does agree with Emmett. Football was weird. “I just want it to be over so we can stop pretending we care about Palmetto Unity and I can get back to what’s really important: finishing my homework.” Basil shook his head at Emmett’s question. “I’m not much of a party person, so I’ll probably skip out on that. I doubt the football players would even want us there anyway. Especially if they lose. You can’t actually be serious about wanting to hang out with them, right?” Basil wasn’t judging, but he didn’t know how anyone could stand to hang out with them.

Noah blinked in surprise as Basil talked about his experience in California, and he couldn’t help but marvel at him a little bit. “You’ve lived in a lot of places,” he said in awe. “New York too? That’s crazy,” he gushed a little bit. He was hesitant to ask about boarding school or about this Anthony person. He only knew about boarding school from TV and movies and it didn’t sound great.

Noah wondered if perhaps he should look up who Basil was. He looked important enough to be mentioned somewhere, but Noah immediately cracked down on the thought. He didn’t care what the internet had to say about Basil. All Noah wanted to know was what Basil told him. He refused to learn anything that he didn’t want to share with him. Besides, it didn’t matter who Anthony was or what boarding school was like, because Basil was with Noah now, holding his hand and talking with him, and that was way more important than either of those things. 

“Oh that’s right! You went to England over break, right?” Noah asked, suddenly bouncing as he jumped in front of Basil, walking backwards to look at him and talk. “You’ve got to tell me about it! Did it snow? Did you see Big Ben?” he gushed, reaching out and taking Basil’s other hand and jumping a little bit with excitement. 

         He tried not to remember much about his life before Anthony had moved them to New York. “Just the two,” he responded. “I never really lived in England.” Basil was hesitant to talk about all the places that he got to travel just because Anthony had wanted to go somewhere and didn’t want to leave Basil behind. “But I suppose that two places might seem like a lot to some people, since there are plenty of people that have only ever lived one place their entire life.” He’d at least gotten to visit more than one place before he’d become a teen and he wasn’t sure some of the Foxes or Vixens could say that. Sometimes Basil couldn’t find a way to say something that didn’t make it seem like he was trying to brag about it.

         Being with Noah was strange because the other never seemed to be curious as to who Basil actually was. Had he looked things up online or just didn’t think the tabloids and reporters were telling the full story? Basil could never tell. For the most part, if someone looked him up, he didn’t care if their opinion on him changed because honestly he could stop them from thinking what they wanted to think. With Noah it was different. He actually cared what Noah thought about him. Basil didn’t know why either. Maybe because he wanted the other to be his friend or at least like him enough that they could possibly be friends.

         “Don’t get too excited. I mostly just stayed inside with my mother.” His break might have seemed boring to most people. He’d never been to England before, so maybe he should have done all sorts of tourist-y things, except he hadn’t gone to do that. He’d gone to meet his mother. “It did snow though. And I did see Big Ben from the plane window.” The Fox smiled lightly at Noah’s excitement. “Maybe for spring break, you could come. We could do all the sightseeing, maybe even take a trip to Paris while we’re at it.” He tried to keep the hopefulness out of his voice but didn’t know if he was hiding it all that well. “My mother said she wanted to meet all my friends and I mean I guess you’re pretty much my only friend. She really wants to come to some of the games, but I don’t think she can travel, so the least she said she could do was bring my friends to her.” Out of everyone he’d started to get to know, Basil knew that the only person he wanted to meet his mother was Noah.