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Kevin says to her, “Andrew and Neil went to Columbia.”
Renee offers him an easy smile, and then the question, slowly. “Would you like me to come to the court with you tonight?”
He never asks, he tells her, and he lets Renee offer to accompany him so he doesn’t have to spend the time alone or admit that he doesn’t want to. Renee is just happy he allows her to be there for him—Kevin does not extend that trust to just anyone.
The nod Kevin gives her lasts barely a moment before he drags his feet off down the hall, heading for the stairs to race down them. Renee watches him until he disappears, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets, shoulders slumped. She turns toward Dan and Allison on the couch.
“Take them,” Allison sighs, before Renee can ask to borrow her keys. “I still don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
“It helps him and Andrew. Thank you,” Renee adds, waving the both of them goodbye. “Goodnight, I’ll see you both in the morning.”
Dan purses her lips at the reasoning, but waves. “Good luck.”
Renee doesn’t need luck when she knows how this goes, but she nods anyway as she slips out the door in pursuit of Kevin. She finds him exactly where she has every other weekend that they’ve done this, leaning up against Allison’s car, his eyes unseeing until they land on her and he relaxes as she unlocks the door.
Kevin slips into the passenger seat and slumps down, pulling his hood over his head, letting his arms cross. When Renee climbs in on the other side, Kevin’s hand finds the console beside her elbow, and absently he taps a slow pattern against the bone. Renee smiles at him, starting the car.
It’s never a long drive to the court, but Kevin is particularly antsy tonight. He doesn’t thank her when they do arrive, but he gives her arm a squeeze before clambering out and hurrying toward the doors.
Renee does not keep a set of keys like Kevin does, only the code necessary, so Kevin waits for her even as he struggles to stand in place outside. She doesn’t make him wait long, hurrying after him and into the building. Neither of them turns on any lights, except a few overhead once they reach the actual court. She illuminates the area for Kevin and finds him a few rows up the stands, just staring.
Night practice has been on hold since Andrew and Neil were injured, and even without them here, it’s no exception. They’ve been spending more time away, and Kevin is almost always invited, but there are times he can’t stomach leaving. And times, Renee thinks, that Kevin feels he deserves punishment and that they deserve time to be alone.
She can read the guilt in his expression—however misplaced—easily because she still carries her own. She just can’t tell if it’s all because of the Ravens targeting them too, or if it started earlier, like last spring when everything changed. She should have paid closer attention then, but there was so much going on that beyond making sure Kevin was in one piece, she left him to Andrew to deal with, because that’s where he belongs.
These days Andrew entrusts her with him more, when he can’t be there if Kevin needs it. That handoff was hard for him, but Renee is happy to step in and take Kevin under her care temporarily. He gets more comfortable with it each time.
This time, he lets his arm rest on the back of her seat, fingers still tapping anxiously. She feels them against her back.
“When did Andrew say they were coming back?” Renee asks, turning to face Kevin more. He doesn’t look away from the court, but he does let his thumb drag against her spine as he thinks. “Is it the whole long weekend?”
“I don’t know,” Kevin says. “They said—Neil said I should go.”
“But not Andrew?” Kevin waves his hand in careless dismissal. “I’m sure if you change your mind he’ll come and get you.”
“He will.”
Renee hums, letting the silence of the empty court fall around them. They never do much on nights like these, but she’s grown to like sitting in quiet with Kevin. It’s not every time, but it depends on Kevin’s mood. Sometimes he’ll tell her about his classes—the collection of history on his mind that provokes such a rare passion in him, similar to the one she’s only seen exy cause. Then he asks her about her own, and though the rest of the Foxes would never believe her, he always listens intently. Sometimes, Kevin asks her such genuine, thoughtful questions that the others would think him incapable of; Renee herself has to stop and think on occasion.
It’s a refreshing side of Kevin. She’s always known that he’s smart, and how much he cares, but it’s one thing to know and another to see. Renee quite likes this time, and how it feels like a privilege to know Kevin this way.
“Do you want to talk over the plays we practiced today?” Renee prompts, but Kevin shakes his head. “I’m going to get a drink, do you want one?”
“Juice,” Kevin says vaguely, reaching for his pockets. Renee shakes her head and grabs his hand to stop him. “I can—“
“This one’s on me,” she replies cheerily. “Two minutes.”
A trip to the vending machine gets her water and a bottle of apple juice for Kevin. She grabs a candy bar to split, returning to his side, shoulder against his. Kevin raises an eyebrow as she hands him half, but he accepts it tentatively, fingertips brushing hers.
“Why do you keep doing this?” Kevin asks, almost like he’s just trying to occupy the silence, but the heaviness of his tone gives him away. “What do you gain?”
“I like sitting with you,” she tells him honestly. “Should I not?”
Kevin scrunches up his face slightly in thought. “I don’t understand why.”
“Do you have to understand?”
“I’m not like you,” he says after a long pause. “I cannot rely on just faith anymore. There has to be… something.”
It’s unusually vulnerable from Kevin, but that’s slowly becoming more typical, at least when they’re alone. But it’s also unusually pessimistic for a boy who has always held onto so much hope. Renee doesn’t ever bring up her faith unless he does first, but whether Kevin holds beliefs of his own or not, he’s always had faith in other things.
From scattered conversations with Kevin himself and with Jean, his hope is what helped him survive. To hear this hint of confusion and desperation in his voice now means he’s really struggling.
“I just like you, Kevin,” Renee says, leaning back into his arm more. He rubs thoughtful circles on it with his thumb, and Renee feels her heart pick up. “I like you.”
The words feel heavier on her tongue than they should. The moment they leave her mouth she notices the changes that have been sneaking up on her. The warmth of Kevin’s hand against her back, the way she doesn’t hesitate to be in his space, the excitement that comes with getting to be alone with him.
Kevin is not Renee’s to have, but this is hers to hold onto, and no harm will come if she indulges just herself for a few moments. Wanting is not a crime.
It’s just a shame that the fluttering in her chest has nowhere to go. Kevin is Andrew’s, they’ve agreed, and he’s Jean’s. Renee never asked, but Jean’s feelings for Kevin were obvious to her. To want anything with Kevin when he belongs to them would be sacrilegious. Kevin is something sacred—to them, to her, to the world. Renee can have this for herself and resist temptation to act. She’s strong enough.
Knowing now, though, makes it a little harder.
She lets Kevin prompt her with questions until he starts interrupting them with yawns anyway. There is nothing she wants to change in how she interacts with Kevin. He needs someone right now, and she will not turn on him or take advantage. Renee wants to be here.
The drive to the dorms is quiet, though Kevin has his fingers curled over her free forearm. His hands are soft, only lightly calloused, and a warm weight on her.
Kevin walks her to her door, looking lighter now than he was when he showed up for help. Renee smiles at him again, “Goodnight, Kevin.”
And Kevin, in what feels like an act of God, does something so rare Renee is not sure she’s ever seen him do it: he leans in and kisses her on the temple.
It almost feels like mockery, but it is so genuine from Kevin that his cheeks even turn pink. He nods his goodnight and leaves Renee standing there, at a loss for words in a way she hasn’t been in a long time. Kevin always has a way of surprising her.