Neil twisted his hands in his shirt and lifted his arms, baring his forearms to her. "Do I have track marks?"

"Neil," Abby said softly.

"Do I or don't I?"

Abby's mouth thinned to a hard line as she forcibly redirected her attention back to his physical. The second she gave him the okay to put his shirt on again, Neil yanked it over his head. Abby filled out the rest of her forms in silence.

"We're done," Abby said. "Neil—"

"No." Neil grabbed his duffel and escaped her office as quickly as he could.

He half-expected her to follow him, but Abby stayed in her office and left him alone. Neil flipped through his catalogue, trying to work off his agitation. He wanted a cigarette so bad his fingers ached. He wanted something that would make him feel a little less alone. He shoved his catalogue aside again and checked himself, making sure everything was covered under his shirt. All of his shirts were at least a size too big, since baggy clothes hid his scars better, but Neil still felt raw and exposed.

Neil shoved the catalogue into his bag, hooked the strap over his shoulder, and went down the hall with every intention of waiting the rest of the afternoon in the inner court. He made it as far as the foyer when a door opened behind him. Neil hesitated at the exit and looked back as someone stepped into the lounge at the other end of the hall.

The new arrival seemed startlingly tall compared to the Foxes Neil had put up with so far this summer. Nicky was almost six feet and Kevin was an inch or two taller, but this man looked halfway to seven. Part of the illusion Neil blamed on his black hair, which he'd gelled up in short spikes around his skull.

The hairstyle was also what kept Neil from recognizing him immediately, as the man hadn't sported such a brazen look last year. By the time he put a name to the man's face, the stranger had crossed the hall to him and put a hand out. Neil accepted his hand and did his best to keep his stare on Matthew Boyd's face. It was difficult; Matt's short sleeves did nothing to hide the faded but obvious track marks on both arms. No wonder Abby was so adamant about that part of the check-up.

"Matt Boyd," the man said, giving Neil's hand a firm shake. "I'm a junior this year, and I'm the Foxes' starting backliner. You must be Neil."

Neil was saved the trouble of answering. Wymack had heard Matt's arrival and he came out of his office to hurl a key ring at Matt's head. The jangling got Matt's attention and he turned in time to get smacked on the cheek with the keys. Matt snagged the ring as it fell and made a face at his coach.

"Jesus, Coach, good to see you too. When did we move past a simple 'hello'?"