If Andrew was telling the truth, then Kevin had definitely lied to all of them, and Neil could only guess at one reason why he'd go to such great lengths. Maybe Kevin remembered him after all and was saying whatever he had to in order to recruit Neil. But if that was so, how much did Kevin know? How much did he understand or remember about what happened eight years ago? Did he know Neil's name? Did he know what that name meant?

"You're lying," Neil said at last, because he needed that to be the truth. "Kevin hates me."

"Or you hate him," Andrew said. "I can't decide. Your loose ends aren't adding up."

"I'm not a math problem."

"But I'll still solve you."

Neil turned away without another word. Kevin was gathering his balls, finished with practice. When Kevin started for the door, Andrew moved behind Neil. Neil heard cloth rustle as Andrew stood, and Andrew's shoes tapped quietly on the stairs as he came down to inner court.

"You are a conundrum," Andrew said.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you," Andrew said as he slipped past Neil without a look back. "I need a new toy to play with."

"I'm not a toy."

"I guess we'll see."

Kevin had his helmet off as soon as the court door closed behind him. He looked right past Andrew to Neil. Neil stared back at him, looking for the truth on Kevin's face, looking for some reason behind Andrew's big words. Kevin couldn't have heard their conversation all the way out on the court, but Neil still expected him to call Neil by his real name.

Instead Kevin said, "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to practice."

"As if it will help you any."

It was rude, but it was exactly what Neil needed to hear. Andrew had lied to him. Neil could breathe a little easier as he watched Kevin set the bucket of balls on the ground at his feet. Kevin set his racquet and helmet on the home bench to undo his gloves and arm guards. Andrew took them as Kevin peeled them off, tucking the gloves under his arm and looping his fingers through the straps of the guards. He snagged Kevin's helmet by the safety grating across the front and watched Kevin collect his racquet again.

"Andrew?" Kevin asked.

"Ready already," Andrew said, and started for the locker room.

Neil didn't watch them leave. He sat on home bench and stared at the court, listening to the door close behind them. He reached over and picked a ball out of the bucket, turning it over and over in his fingers.

"Court," Neil whispered, then gave himself a violent shake.

He squeezed the ball until his fingers ached, mentally retracing his steps backward. He went to Arizona, then across Nevada to California. He remembered the black sands beach along California's lost coast where his mother finally gave up the fight. He hadn't even realized she'd been injured so badly after running into his father in Seattle. She'd bled most of the way through Oregon, but he hadn't thought it was serious. He hadn't known she was bleeding out on the inside, a kidney and her liver ruptured, her intestines bruised beyond repair.