Neil didn't have words, so he answered with his fist. He didn't have a lot of room to swing but he made do and caught Riko right in his vulgar mouth. It knocked Riko back a step, giving Neil a little more space, and Neil caught him in the eye next. He lunged away from the table and slammed into Riko, but Riko was already moving to meet him. Neil crashed into the table so hard he sent it skidding out from behind him, and he and Riko both hit the floor. Neil jabbed and struck at any part of Riko he could find, only distantly aware of Riko's own vicious blows. Someone was yelling about a fight, or maybe that was his blood roaring in his ears.

Suddenly there were hands on him that weren't Riko's, and the two were being yanked apart. Neil held on as fiercely as he could; so did Riko. Riko pulled Neil close one last time before the crowd ripped them away from one another, long enough for him to say, "You just cost him something he didn't want to lose."

Then there were too many bodies between them. Neil recognized some of them: Matt first, then Jean, then a couple athletes whose faces he'd only seen through helmet visors. Neil's brain put names to faces where it could and summarily dismissed all of them as unimportant. None of them were Riko. He fought the crowd as best he could, trying to break through and get his hands on Riko again.

Somehow he made it close enough again to grab Riko's sleeve. "You even fucking think about touching him—"

Wymack came out of nowhere and hauled Neil off Riko like he weighed nothing at all. The space between them filled with coaches, and the excited hubbub died out almost instantaneously. For a moment the only sound was Neil's ragged breathing as he stared around Wymack's body at Riko. The entire room was shaking, or maybe that was Neil trembling hard enough to bring the whole court down on top of them.

"What the hell is going on here?" Breckenridge's coach demanded. "This is a Christmas banquet. If you missed the memo, that's Christmas, as in make merry and goodwill to man. I want a goddamned explanation for this."

Neither Neil or Riko answered; they were too busy staring each other down. Jean had found his place behind Riko again and the tense look on his face was wary disapproval. Neil wanted a gun. He'd settle for Andrew's knives, but those were hidden under his pillow at Palmetto State. He dug his fingers into Wymack's arm hard enough he'd leave bruises for sure and smiled so hard it hurt.

"Yes," he said, because what else could he say? "I understand."

"Apology accepted," Riko said.