Chapter Text
Aaron Minyard wasn't looking forward to a fresh start at Palmetto State. In fact, he dreaded it. A new place meant new expectations, new faces, and worst of all, new teammates. Being dragged into the chaos of Exy was bad enough without having to bond with strangers. His twin brother, Andrew Minyard, didn't seem to care—he never did—and Nicholas Hemmick was too optimistic for Aaron's taste.
The cramped apartment in Columbia reeked of stale air and cheap takeout, but at least it was quiet. Aaron sat perched on the narrow windowsill, one leg dangling precariously over the edge, the other folded close to his chest. A thin joint rested between his fingers, its ember flaring briefly in the cool evening air. He took another drag, letting the acrid smoke fill his lungs before releasing it in a slow, deliberate exhale.
The small, flickering streetlight outside illuminated the shadow of Andrew, leaning against the doorframe. Aaron didn't bother looking over.
"You're an idiot," Andrew said flatly.
Aaron's lips twitched. "Thanks for the insight, genius."
In one quick motion, Andrew crossed the room, yanked the joint out of Aaron's hand, and flicked it into the night. Aaron glared after the faint glow as it disappeared into the darkness below.
"What the hell, Andrew?"
"You're clean," Andrew reminded him, his tone cold but pointed. "Or was that a lie too?"
Aaron's jaw clenched, a sharp retort bubbling up in his throat, but he swallowed it down. He hated when Andrew had the moral high ground—it didn't happen often, but when it did, it was infuriating.
"It's just once," Aaron muttered, his voice lacking conviction. "It doesn't mean anything."
Andrew's sharp gaze pinned him in place. "It always starts with 'just once.' Do I need to drag you back to the bathroom?" The unspoken threat hung in the air.
Aaron rolled his eyes, the memory of the cold marble floor of the bathroom and the endless pleas to Andrew to let him out hit his mind like an electric shock. He swung his legs back into the apartment. "No."
"Good. Then stay clean." Andrew moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He didn't say anything more, but he didn't have to. The weight of his words lingered, heavy and unavoidable.
Aaron shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and leaned against the window frame, staring out into the street below. He hated feeling like this—cornered, guilty, angry all at once. Palmetto State University was supposed to be a fresh start, but it already felt like he was dragging his old mistakes along with him.
Behind him, Nicky's voice cut through the apartment as he returned from the convenience store down the street. "I'm back! I got snacks for the road trip tomorrow. And by snacks, I mean every kind of junk food imaginable. You're welcome."
Aaron didn't turn around. "Great. Can't wait to spend hours in a car with you and your sugar rush."
Nicky laughed. "Oh, come on, Aaron. Road trips are supposed to be fun! You, me, Andrew—one big, happy family heading off to new adventures."
"Yeah, sure," Aaron muttered. "Sounds like a dream come true."
Nicky ignored the sarcasm and plopped a bag of chips onto the counter. "Don't worry. I'll make a playlist. Something for everyone. Even you, Aaron. What's that band you like? Radio...Headache? Radio...Sad? Radio-something?"
"Radiohead," Aaron corrected, dragging his hand down his face. "And don't bother. I'm bringing headphones."
Andrew, perched on a stool near the counter, smirked faintly as he took a sip from his water. "Smart move."
Nicky gasped theatrically. "You two are no fun. I'll win you over, you'll see." He turned to unpack the rest of his haul, humming cheerfully to himself.
Aaron turned out their chatter, his gaze drifting back out the window. Somewhere out there was Palmetto State, a campus full of strangers, and a team he wasn't sure he wanted to belong to. It wasn't just about starting over—it was about proving he could.
But how was he supposed to do that when he couldn't even keep himself from slipping?
Andrew's voice broke through his thoughts. "You gonna sulk all night, or are you gonna pack?"
Aaron glanced over his shoulder. "I'm already packed."
"Impressive," Andrew said, though his tone didn't sound impressive at all. "You remembered we're leaving at seven, right? And by 'seven,' I mean I'm leaving at seven, with or without you."
"Yeah, yeah," Aaron said, waving him off. "I'll be ready."
"You better be," Andrew replied, his sharp gaze lingering a second too long before he stood and wandered back to his room.
Nicky, now munching on a candy bar, leaned against the counter and gave Aaron a sympathetic smile. "Hey, for what it's worth, it won't be that bad. The Foxes might be... intense, but they're good people. Some of them, anyway. I mean, you read the newspaper."
"Great pep talk," Aaron said dryly.
Nicky shrugged. "I try."
Aaron sighed and pushed off the window frame. "I'm going to bed. Wake me up when it's time to go."
"Will do!" Nicky called after him.
Aaron shut his bedroom door and leaned against it, staring at the sparse room he'd called home for the past few months. Tomorrow, everything would change, whether he liked it or not.
He just hoped he could survive the Foxes without losing himself again.
—
The following morning, they piled into the car, the trunk stuffed with their bags. Nicky had stuck to his word about the playlist—though Aaron regretted letting him. The mix of pop anthems and show tunes was enough to make his head pound. Andrew had claimed the driver's seat like usual, leaving Aaron to sprawl in the back. Nick and Andrew switched driving in the middle of the way because, Nicky pissed Andrew off.
By the time they pulled in front of a two-floor white house, a garden with flowers and fresh tomatoes, the sun was high, and Aaron was already sick of the day.
Andrew cut the engine, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel as he stared at the house in front of them. The white paint looked fresh, and the garden—overflowing with bright flowers and ripe tomatoes—felt too domestic for anything related to the Foxes. Aaron frowned, shifting in his seat.
"This is the place?" Andrew asked, not looking away from the house.
Nicky squinted at his phone, then at the street sign. "I think so. I mean, probably. GPS says we're here."
Aaron rolled his eyes. "That's reassuring."
Andrew sighed and pushed open his door. "Let's get this over with."
Aaron followed suit, slamming the car door shut a little harder than necessary. The front porch creaked under their steps as they made their way to the door. Nicky hesitated before knocking, shooting them a nervous grin. "Maybe I should do the talking, you know? First impressions matter."
Andrew didn't dignify that with a response, so Nicky knocked twice.
The door swung open almost immediately, revealing a woman who looked like she'd been expecting them. She was in her late thirties, her blonde hair in a high ponytail and light blue eyes looking at them three, with a sturdy frame that spoke of strength despite the warmth in her gaze.
Nicky hesitated. "Uh, hi. Sorry if we got the wrong address—"
"You didn't." Her voice was even, matter-of-fact. "You must be Andrew and Aaron."
Aaron nodded once. Andrew just crossed his arms.
She turned her attention to Nicky. "And you're Nicholas. I was told you'd be coming too."
"That's me!" Nicky said, forcing a cheerful grin. "And you are...?"
"Abby Winfield," she said, stepping back to let them in. "I'm the team nurse for the Foxes. You'll be staying here until August."
Aaron narrowed his eyes. "What?"
Abby raised an eyebrow. "Did no one tell you?"
Nicky laughed nervously. "Apparently not."
Abby sighed, muttering something about Wymack under her breath. "Next week, you two will graduate high school. After that, you'll officially be Foxes. The team doesn't meet until the start of August, but given the... special circumstances surrounding your recruitment, Wymack thought it'd be best if you got settled before then."
Aaron scowled. "Settled? We already have an apartment."
"You have an apartment," Abby corrected, shutting the door behind them after they walked inside. "This is about integrating you into the team structure. Learning the expectations. And," she added, glancing at Andrew, "giving Wymack a little peace of mind."
Andrew met her gaze with a blank expression. "If Wymack wanted peace of mind, he shouldn't have signed us."
Abby smiled. "Probably not. But here we are."
Aaron exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. He hated feeling like things were decided for him—like he had no control. But that was nothing new, was it?
Nicky, ever the optimist, clapped his hands together. "Well! A summer getaway before college! This could be fun."
Aaron shot him a withering look. "You have the worst definition of fun."
Nicky shrugged. "You'll come around."
Abby turned toward the hallway. "Come on. I'll show you your rooms."
Aaron wasn't sure how, but he already had a bad feeling about this summer.
The room Abby led them to was small, with two twin beds pushed against opposite walls. The furniture was minimal—a shared dresser, a narrow closet, and a single nightstand between the beds. It was clean but impersonal, like a guest room that hadn't been used in a while. Aaron dropped his duffel onto the bed closest to the window and sat down, rubbing a hand over his face.
Andrew, meanwhile, stood by the door, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the room.
"We're supposed to live here for two months?" Andrew muttered.
Aaron didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stepped over to the dresser, opening and shutting a drawer as if testing how much noise it would make. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat. "It's temporary."
Andrew scoffed. "Yeah, no kidding. But why are we even here? We don't need a babysitter."
Aaron shut the drawer with a little too much force. "Apparently, Wymack disagrees."
Andrew tensed, recognizing the challenge in his brother's tone. "So what, you're just fine with this?"
Aaron turned, head tilting slightly. "I don't care."
That response—so typically Aaron, so frustratingly detached—made Andrew's patience snap. "Bullshit."
Aaron barely blinked. "You're the only one pissed about it."
"Because it's stupid," Andrew bit out. "We could be at the apartment, in our own space, but instead, we're here playing house because Wymack thinks we're a problem."
Aaron gave him a slow, unimpressed once-over. "We are a problem."
Andrew's hands clenched into fists. He hated when Aaron did this, when he threw the truth in Andrew's face like it didn't matter. "You really don't care where they put us? Who do we have to live with? What happens next?"
Aaron took a step closer, his expression finally shifting into something sharp. "I care that you won't shut up about it."
Andrew's jaw locked. He was seconds away from saying something he wouldn't be able to take back when the door swung open.
"Heyyy," Nicky drawled, leaning against the frame with his usual easy grin. "You guys bonding?"
Aaron exhaled hard through his nose and turned away. Andrew, for his part, stepped back, his expression smoothing out into indifference again.
"Abby wants you both downstairs," Nicky said, undeterred by the tension in the room. "Wymack's here, and he's got things to discuss. You know, important coach-y things."
Aaron rubbed his temples. "Of course he is."
Andrew didn't react, just grabbed a hoodie from his bag and pulled it over his head.
Nicky clapped his hands together. "Great! Let's go before Wymack gets impatient and starts yelling. I'd rather not have my eardrums blown out on our first night."
Aaron didn't bother responding. He just pushed past Nicky and stalked toward the stairs. If Wymack wanted to talk, fine. But if he thought Aaron was just going to fall in line, he had another thing coming.
Aaron took the stairs two at a time, his irritation simmering just beneath the surface. He could hear muffled voices coming from the living room, but he didn't care enough to listen in. Andrew followed behind him, silent as ever, while Nicky hummed a tune under his breath like they weren't walking into a conversation that would probably ruin Aaron's night.
When they stepped into the living room, Wymack was already seated on the worn-out couch, looking as exhausted as ever. He had a travel mug in one hand, probably full of coffee—or something stronger, knowing him. His sharp gaze flicked up as they entered, scanning them like he was assessing a problem he hadn't figured out how to solve yet.
"Glad you finally decided to show up," Wymack said, taking a slow sip from his mug. "I was starting to think I'd have to drag you down myself."
Andrew crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. "Not our fault no one told us we'd be staying here."
Wymack sighed, setting his mug down on the coffee table. "Yeah, well, you'll live. Sit down."
Neither Aaron nor Andrew moved. Nicky, ever the peacekeeper, plopped down into an armchair like he wasn't picking up on the tension.
Wymack arched his brow. "Suit yourselves."
Abby stood by the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching the interaction unfold with quiet amusement. Aaron got the feeling she had seen worse.
"Here's the deal," Wymack said, cutting straight to the point. "You're here because I don't trust either of you to not self-destruct before August."
Nicky scowled. "Wow, what a confidence boost. Thanks, Coach."
Wymack ignored the sarcasm. "You both have baggage. I get it. But I need to make sure you're not going to blow up the team before you even set foot on the court." He turned his gaze to Andrew. "That means you keep your promises." Then to Andrew. "And you keep your head on straight."
Andrew stiffened. "I don't need a babysitter."
"Good," Wymack said. "Because I'm not one. I'm your coach. And if you want to play for my team, you follow my rules. Simple as that."
Andrew didn't react. Aaron, on the other hand, had to bite his tongue to keep from arguing.
"You three are going to spend the summer here," Wymack continued. "Abby's in charge. You listen to her. You don't start shit. And you show up to conditioning when I tell you to."
Aaron frowned. "Conditioning?"
Wymack crossed his arms with flames tattoos over his chest. "What, you thought you'd just waltz onto the team in August without breaking a sweat? You'll be running drills before the rest of the Foxes even get here. Consider it a warm-up."
Aaron barely stopped himself from groaning. This summer was going to be hell.
Wymack pushed himself up from the couch, grabbing his mug. "That's it. Welcome to the team. Try not to kill each other before August."
With that, he left, Abby following him to the door.
The second they were gone, Aaron turned to Andrew. "This is bullshit."
Andrew shrugged, as if he hadn't just been signed up for two months of forced training and supervision. "Then leave."
Aaron clenched his jaw. He hated that Andrew always made it sound so easy—like it was all a choice when, really, there had never been one.
"Look on the bright side!" Nicky chimed in, standing up and stretching. "At least you'll be in great shape by the time the season starts! You really need to go up a couple of pounds."
Aaron shot him a glare. "Go to hell, Nicky."
Nicky just grinned. "Love you too, cousin."
-
—
The last week of high school was exactly as miserable as Aaron expected. He and Andrew barely showed up, only attending when absolutely necessary. There was no point in pretending to care—no nostalgia, no bittersweet goodbyes. Just a countdown to the day they could finally leave.
When graduation came, they did the bare minimum. Walked across the stage, shook hands with people they'd never speak to again, and took their diplomas without fanfare. Nicky tried to convince them to take a picture together, but Aaron shut that idea down fast. As soon as the ceremony ended, they were gone.
Summer, however, wasn't much of a break.
Mornings were brutal. Wymack had them running drills before the sun had fully risen, the thick Columbia heat already clinging to their skin by the time they finished. "Warm-up" was an understatement—by the end of each session, Aaron felt like collapsing. Sprint drills, endurance training, strength workouts that left his muscles aching for hours afterward. Wymack wasn't going easy on them, and Aaron hated that he could already feel himself improving.
Afternoons were for work. They all had jobs at Eden's Twilight, the bar they'd been sneaking into for years. Now, they were legally allowed inside, but that didn't make the job any easier. Bartending was fast-paced, exhausting, and came with its own brand of chaos—drunken fights, bad pickup lines, and the occasional customer who needed to be thrown out.
Nights were for unwinding—or making bad decisions, depending on the night.
Eden's wasn't just work; it was an escape. After long shifts and even longer workouts, they stayed to drink, dance, and let the music drown out the exhaustion. Andrew kept his hand wrapped around a ron bottle more often than not, while Nicky made it his personal mission to flirt with half the club. Aaron just let himself exist, pressing into the noise and the neon haze until the world felt distant.
It was a cycle: wake up, run until he felt like dying, work until his feet ached, then drink until everything blurred. And then, do it all again the next day.
By the time August crept closer, Aaron wasn't sure if he was ready for the Foxes—or if he was just too exhausted to care.
The three of them collapsed onto the couch after another grueling day. Aaron flopped back with a groan, his muscles sore from the morning's drill and his mind already tired from the work shift at Eden's. He barely had the energy to lift his feet onto the coffee table, but somehow, he managed. Andrew, as usual, didn't bother with comfort—he just sat on the edge, elbows resting on his knees, looking like he might fall asleep right there.
Nicky, ever the energetic one, was the only one with any pep left. He stretched and flopped into the chair, immediately grabbing the remote. "You guys are so lazy," he teased. "You're supposed to be young, full of energy."
Aaron shot him a tired glare. "Says the guy who can't sit still for five minutes."
Andrew didn't even react, his eyes closed as he leaned back against the couch.
Abby walked into the living room, carrying a plate stacked high with snacks—chips, fruit, and some kind of sandwich she'd whipped up. She set it down on the coffee table with a grin. "I thought you'd all be starving after today."
"Starving for a nap, maybe," Andrew muttered, reaching for a handful of chips.
Abby chuckled. "Well, I guess that'll have to wait. Wymack's here to talk to you guys."
Aaron barely had time to swallow a chip before Wymack entered, his usual stern expression softened by the faintest trace of exhaustion. He took a look at them, sprawled out on the couch like they'd just survived a war.
"You guys are useless," Wymack said, but there was no malice in his voice—just the kind of tired resignation only a coach could have.
"Wouldn't be if you didn't work us to death," Aaron shot back.
Wymack gave him a look. "You'll thank me when you can outrun the competition."
Abby, amused, glanced from one to the other. "Sounds like you've got them on the ropes, David."
Wymack didn't smile. "You know, almost all the team is already on campus."
Nicky's brain took a second to process that. "Already? We haven't even—"
"Yeah, I know." Wymack cut him off, taking a seat across from them. "The Foxes are back. And tomorrow, you'll meet them. So don't be late."
Aaron barely had time to react before the weight of his words hit. The team. The Foxes. The real deal. He'd been preparing for this for months, but now that it was finally here, it felt... surreal.
Andrew was the first to speak, breaking the silence that had settled over them. "What's the plan?"
Wymack glanced at him, his eyes sharp. "We meet. You all introduce yourselves. And then we start. No more hiding behind work shifts or sneaking into bars. It's time to step up."
"Sounds fun," Nicky chimed in, though the hint of nervousness in his voice was hard to miss. "When do we get to meet our future teammates?"
Wymack stood up, grabbing his mug from the table. "Tomorrow at 7 AM. Don't make me chase you down."
Abby gave a small laugh as Wymack left. "You heard him. Tomorrow's the big day."
The three of them exchanged glances, the reality of the next day sinking in. Aaron could feel the tension building in his chest—the mix of anticipation, fear, and something else he couldn't quite place. It was happening. They were stepping into the next chapter.
But for a moment, all he wanted was to stay on this couch, to let the world keep spinning around him while he stayed in this exhausted, numb bubble.
No such luck.
Tomorrow, everything changed.