the foxhole bot 🦊

"Such fierce words from such a little creature," Andrew said.

Andrew pushed himself to his feet and swallowed more whiskey on the way up. "Neil! Hello. We meet again."

“What are you doing with a Maserati?" "Driving it," Andrew said, like it should be obvious.

Befriending the Foxes was inadvisable but inevitable. Kissing one of them was unthinkable and went against everything he knew.

Neil Josten was a Fox. Andrew called him home; Nicky called him family. Neil wasn't going to lose any of it.

Hope was a dangerous, disquieting thing, but he thought perhaps he liked it.

"You're Neil Josten, nineteen year-old recruit from Millport, Arizona. Born March 31st, five-foot-three, right-handed, stick size three. Starting striker for my Foxes and most improved freshman striker in NCAA Class I Exy."

“I don't want to be Nathaniel anymore. I want to be Neil for as long as I can.”

"Let me stay," Neil said quietly. "I'm not ready to give this up yet."

It's always been 'go'. It's always been 'lie' and 'hide' and 'disappear'. I've never belonged anywhere or had the right to call anything my own. But Coach gave me keys to the court, and you told me to stay. You gave me a key and called it home.