Andrew was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the corner. He hadn't bothered to change out yet, but he'd taken off his helmet and gloves. Abby's travel bag was upended on the ground in front of him. His medicine bottle was open on its side near his hip. A handful of white pills were scattered on the floor around it. Andrew held his prize for the night's efforts in a two-handed, white-knuckled grip: a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue. In the ten or so minutes he'd been off the court he'd already inhaled half of the pricey scotch. How he had enough feeling left in his fingers to hold the bottle Neil didn't know.

"Abby and Allison went ahead to the bus," Wymack said. "You can join them or wait here for everyone else."

Neil left the door open a crack behind him so he'd know when the reporters left and claimed the stool closest to the door. He put his bag on the ground at his feet, glanced again at Andrew, and looked up at Wymack.

"Why did you pay for stalls, Coach?"

Wymack lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Maybe I knew you'd need them one day."

Andrew smiled around the mouth of his bottle. "Neil is a walking tragedy."

"You're a pretty pathetic sob story yourself," Wymack said.

Andrew laughed. It was weak, as his medicine hadn't fully kicked in yet, but Neil knew from the sound of it Andrew would be bouncing before they left the parking lot. "I guess so, Coach. That reminds me. I'm staying with you this weekend."

"I don't remember inviting you," Wymack said, but it didn't sound like a no.

"Kevin's going to be so annoying to deal with after tonight." Andrew screwed the bottle closed and put it aside. He repacked Abby's bag with quick efficiency, shoved it out of his way, and got to his feet. "I can stab him again or I can stay with you. The choice is yours."

Wymack pinched the bridge of his nose. "Andrew, I swear to God—"

"Bye, Coach."

Andrew headed for the door, but Neil put a hand in his path. Andrew obediently stopped and sent Neil a bemused look. Neil lowered his hand and said, "How did you do it? How did you know where to go?"
"Coach said Watts always takes his penalty shots to the bottom corner. With the game riding on him he was bound to do the same."

Neil stared at him, startled and disbelieving. Wymack mentioned that during halftime when he was giving the team a rundown of the second half line-up. It'd been an off-the-cuff remark amidst a lot of other information. Neil hadn't thought Andrew was even paying attention to Wymack's spiel. How he remembered that warning well enough to use it at such critical moment, Neil didn't know.

"But," Neil said, but words failed him. Andrew flashed Neil a bright grin and left. Neil turned a frustrated look on Wymack. "I thought he didn't care. They said he didn't, and I finally started believing them, but he couldn't have saved us tonight if he didn't. Right?"