Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
They weren’t at a rest stop yet, but Jean wasn’t staying back here any longer. He pushed out of his seat and started for the front of the bus. Chaos followed in his wake: forced cheery farewells from Derek and Derrick, and a flurry of hushed accusations and frantic self-defense: “What did you do?”, “Why would you say that?”, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it!”
Jean tuned it all out in favor of reclaiming his spot at Jeremy’s side. Jeremy got up to let him back into the seat, and his smile dimmed a bit as he got a look at Jean’s face. Jean didn’t miss the way he glanced toward the back of the bus, but Jeremy stayed with him rather than investigate.
“Hey,” Jeremy started as he settled at Jean’s side.
Jean didn’t want to hear it. “I will teach you a phrase,” he said, digging in as hard as he could against the memory of Riko’s hands on his throat, in his hair, clawing lines into his face. “You will use it at the banquet if you need to leave. Yes?”
The speed at which Jeremy’s expression went from concern to delight to caution was almost impressive. He half-expected Jeremy to ask him what he knew, but after a minute’s silent contemplation Jeremy finally nodded. Jean sounded it off for him: first at a normal speed, and then in bits and pieces as Jeremy echoed it back to him. Jeremy stumbled a bit over it as he tried putting it all together, but Jean mercilessly bullied him until he got it right. Only when Jean was satisfied did he turn his stare out the window.
He and Jeremy didn’t talk again for another three hours.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jeremy
The University of Arizona had rented space at a convention center three miles off-campus for the banquet, and Rhemann had secured rooms for his team at the hotel adjacent to it. Their driver pulled up outside the hotel long enough for everyone to disembark and collect their things from the storage compartment. Rhemann waited for a headcount from both White and Jimenez before sending him on his way, and the man promised to be back by eleven the next day to collect them. There were too many of them to follow Rhemann inside, so Jeremy and Xavier helped keep watch over the team while Rhemann and Lisinski checked them in.
Rhemann passed out keys and instructions to be back by half-after before letting them into the lobby. With four elevators it would be easy work to get the team up to their floor, but Jeremy looked from the room number printed on his key to Jean. He quietly told himself it’d be a nice stretch after so many hours on the road, and he almost believed it. Flagging Laila down was easy work, and he motioned Jean over from where the other man was hanging back.
“Can you take our bags on the elevator?” Jeremy asked Laila as he held up his change of clothes. “Jean and I are taking the stairs.”
Laila looked from Jeremy to Jean and back again. “It’s eight flights.”
“We do more than that at practice,” Jeremy pointed out.
He half-expected her to push the matter, but at last she held her hand out for their things and said, “Better you than me.”
Finding the stairwell took a bit of work, as there wasn’t a sign for it in the lobby, but soon enough Jeremy and Jean were on their way up. Jeremy waited until they rounded the third-floor landing before looking back at Jean and asking, “What’s the cutoff before you start feeling claustrophobic? You seem fine in cars, and you’ve mentioned it’s airports you’re not comfortable with, not airplanes. How small does it have to be before it bothers you?”
“I don’t like being in boxes.”
Either something got lost in translation, or Jean was being vague because he didn’t want to talk about it. Jeremy let it slide in favor of counting steps in French. Jean said nothing about his pronunciation, but Jeremy knew he was listening. He could feel Jean’s steady gaze on him, a comfortable weight against the back of his head. Since Jean had nothing to correct there, Jeremy next attempted a basic monologue on his way to the fifth landing.
“My name is Jeremy Knox. I am from Los Angeles. I am studying English at USC. Today I am in Tucson for—uh.” He faltered as he overestimated his vocabulary. Jean sighed but obediently supplied the missing word. Jeremy didn’t have to ask what it meant; its intonation was different from its English equivalent, but it was still close enough to understand. “—a banquet.” He looked back at Jean for his approval, but Jean’s annoyance was plain. Jeremy finished with a quick, “Thanks!”
“You aren’t going to law school,” Jean said in English.
Jeremy stared at him, thrown, then assumed Jean made the mental jump from his major to his ill-advised plans for grad school. He smiled in the face of Jean’s disapproval and said, “There’s no harm in taking the exam.”