One night he cast aside his blankets in disgust and left the apartment. It was pitch black out, probably somewhere around two in the morning, and it was just cool enough he should've changed out of his pajama pants. He warmed up quickly as he set off for Palmetto State. There were few street lights around Wymack's neighborhood, but when Neil reached Perimeter Road, the winding street that surrounded Palmetto State, the path was better lit.

Neil knew the way to the stadium by heart even in the dark. There were a couple cars in the parking lot, as usual, and Neil thought he saw the moving figure of a security guard in the next lot. He punched in the code for the Foxes' entrance and opened the door, then stilled with his hand halfway to the light switch. The lights were already on.

Belatedly he realized he'd passed the cousins' car. He was so used to seeing it here when they met for scrimmages he hadn't thought it out of place. He frowned over his shoulder at it, wondering if Wymack had heard him leave and called the others to check on him, then pulled the door closed and jogged for the locker room.

He checked every room but found no sign anyone was there. He stretched out in the foyer before pushing through the back door. He heard the sound of a ball ricocheting off the wall, but with the stadium seating rising up to either side of the Foxes' entry hall, he couldn't see where on the court the others were. He was almost to the inner court before he finally spotted Kevin. Kevin was alone at first-fourth with a bucket of balls, and he was systematically heaving them at the wall. Neil watched in silence, wondering what odd sort of drill he was doing. It took Kevin a dozen shots before Neil realized he was trying to rebound them all from the same spot. Kevin was honing his right-handed aim.

Watching Kevin going at it in the middle of the night, fierce and merciless, was almost enough that Neil forgave him. Kevin was more demanding of himself than he was of anyone around him. He set his standards impossibly high and tried for them with everything he had, and he didn't understand why others wouldn't do the same.

Neil was watching Kevin, but it didn't take him long to realize someone else was watching him. He didn't have to look to know who it was; the intensity of the other man's stare set his nerves on edge with its weight. He didn't turn to see where Andrew was but raised his voice enough that Andrew would hear.

"Won't you play with him?"

"No," Andrew said, somewhere to Neil's left.

Neil waited, but Andrew didn't elaborate. "I think he'd benefit more if you did."

"And?"

Neil slowly turned, dragging his gaze along the empty home bench to the seats behind it. Andrew was sitting in the first stairwell about ten steps up. He was leaning forward, arms folded across his knees, as he stared Neil down. The blank expression on his face was startling. It'd been weeks since Neil last saw him sober and he'd gotten used to Andrew's drugged mania. Neil almost accused him of violating his parole again before he remembered what time it was. Andrew had likely come off his drugs to sleep.