More interesting than Andrew's calm demeanor was the baggy t-shirt and sweatpants Andrew was wearing. Andrew wore long sleeves to pick Neil up from the airport, and Neil had only seen him in court gear since then. Now, without bulky armor and gloves in the way, Neil could finally see Andrew's trademark accessories: black bands that covered his arms from his wrists to his elbows. From what Neil heard, they were a sarcastic joke meant to help people distinguish the twins from one another. Why he had them on in the middle of the night, Neil didn't know.

He didn't have to ask. Andrew knew what he was looking at. He tucked two fingers into the band on his opposite arm and slid free a long, slim blade. Metal glinted in the overhead lights as Andrew pushed it back under the dark cloth a few seconds later.

"Is that your slow attempt at suicide or do you actually have sheathes built into those?" Neil asked.

"Yes."

"That's not the one you tried to cut Nicky with. How many knives do you carry?"

"Enough," Andrew said.

"What happens when a referee catches you with a weapon on the court?" Neil asked. "I think that's a little more serious than a red card. You'd probably get arrested, and they might even suspend our entire team until they think they can trust us again. Then what?"

"I'd grieve forever," Andrew dead-panned.

"Why do you hate this game so much?"

Andrew sighed as if Neil was being purposefully obtuse. "I don't care enough about Exy to hate it. It's just slightly less boring than living is, so I put up with it for now."

"I don't understand."

"That's not my problem."

"Isn't it fun?" Neil asked.

"Someone else asked me that same thing two years ago. Should I tell you what I told him? I said no. Something as pointless as this game is can never be fun."

"Pointless," Neil echoed. "But you have real talent."

"Flattery is uninteresting and gets you nowhere."

"I'm just stating facts. You're selling yourself short. You could be something if only you'd try."

Andrew's smile was small and cold. "You be something. Kevin says you'll be a champion. Four years and you'll go pro. Five years and you'll be Court. He promised Coach. He promised the school board. He argued until they signed off on you."

"He—what?" Neil stared at him, blood rushing in his ears as he tried to make sense of Andrew's words. Andrew had to be lying to him; Kevin couldn't have said such things about him. Kevin could barely stand to be on the same court with him as far as Neil could tell. What good did it do Andrew to say such obvious lies? Was he trying to rile Neil up?

"Then Kevin finally got the okay to sign you and you hit the ground running," Andrew said. "Curious that a man with so much potential, who has so much fun, who could 'be something' wouldn't want any of it. Why is that?"