Page 144 of Studs Up
“Pretty fucking bad,” Alex murmured. There was a lot of background noise, voices, and machines. I guessed he was in a gym, probably at his hotel. “He said he ended it with you.”
The background faded away into silence.
“Fucking bullshit,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Alex heaved a sigh.
“You know, you’re making it really hard to hate you.”
“Don’t go soft on me, Alex,” I said. Look at me making friends.
“Not likely,” he muttered. “What are you going to do? Are you going to come out?”
“Not yet. Not before the game. It would be too much for him.”
“Agreed,” he exhaled, relieved. “He’s in his head pretty deep. I don’t know if he’s going to be able to perform tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I have a plan.”
“Oh god, I am going to regret asking this.” He sucked in a deep breath. “But what is your plan?”
“To piss him off, and I’m gonna need your help.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whined. “I did not have conspiring against my best friend with Nolan Reed on my Western Conference Final bingo card.”
“Also, how much are you into thievery and secret meetings?”
…
Pictures had been posted of the team getting on the bus in Portland, and I let out a slow, relieved breath to see the whole team surrounding Holden. Charlemagne hovered close, and Rafa Torres spoke to the media, supporting him and denouncing whoever had posted the pictures.
Quinn and Nelson had made their own statements mirroring Rafa’s. They particularly hit home that it wasn’t the Guardian way, and if any fan thought this would give the team the advantage, it wasn’t how we wanted to win.
Hope was still flickering. His team hadn’t abandoned him. Parts of his nightmare weren’t manifesting, and that kept me going. Coach Santos stated clearly that Holden would get the start. All of this was good. However, there was more going on because Holden looked worse in those pictures than in the press conference.
I scrolled through the pictures while waiting impatiently in the back of their hotel lobby. Alex came down, looking over his shoulder like a criminal on the run.
He spotted me in a corner that was dark enough that no one would recognize me.
“Do you have it?” I asked before he said anything.
“Hi Nolan, nice to see you too,” he grunted, but he pulled a meticulously folded piece of paper from his coat pocket. Seeing it made my heart grow. There was a significant chance that Holden wouldn’t have brought it. The fact that he did turned that flickering hope into a little flame.
“I can't believe I’m doing this,” he hissed. “He’s in the gym. So hurry up.”
“On the bike?”
He nodded.
“He’s having a panic attack,” I said. “Stay with him.”
He nodded and cocked his head, wondering how I knew that.
“Did you read it?” I demanded as he handed the paper over.
“Wow,” he said dryly. “Thanks for helping me out, Alex. So good of you to risk your friendship to help me out, Alex.”
“Did you read it?” I demanded again.
