Quiet.
I hated how badly I wanted that quiet again.
The players’ lounge smelled like coffee, tape, and whatever protein powder Milo was currently making everyone else regret. Roman sat at the table with his phone in one hand and a bagel in the other. He looked up when I came in.
“You’re early.”
“Observation is not a personality.”
“It is when done correctly.”
I dropped into the chair across from him and tried not to bounce my knee. Failed. Stopped it with my hand. Started tapping my fingers instead. Worse. Picked up my coffee and burned my tongue because apparently I could not be trusted with liquids.
Roman watched all of that.
“What?” I said.
“You look like you swallowed a whistle.”
“I slept weird.”
“You sleep weird every night.”
“Then maybe this is my face.”
“No. Your face is usually louder.”
Before I could answer, Milo came in wearing a beanie with a pom-pom on top and carrying three bananas.
Lowell followed him, frowning. “You can’t just take all of them.”
“They’re for the group.”
“You are the group?”
“I’m group adjacent.” Milo tossed one at me. I caught it against my chest. “Holloway, you look like you saw your search history projected on the scoreboard.”
I choked on coffee.
Roman’s gaze sharpened.
Lowell, innocent and doomed, said, “Why would that be bad? Unless there was something illegal.”
Milo stared at him. “Grant, buddy.”
“What?”
“Don’t ever change,” Roman said.
I peeled the banana because it gave my hands something to do. “You guys are obsessed with me.”
“Statistically,” Milo said, “you make it rewarding.”
Tessa passed through with her tablet and stopped just long enough to look at the four of us. “Whatever this is, finish it before cameras are in the building.”
Milo held up a banana. “Need one?”
“I would rather eat printer paper.”
