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I didn't go back to the court for a few days after that. I didn't want to look at any of them. I felt awful, and I didn't really want to be reminded of Garet glaring at me, or the others watching me, or Catherine storming by without even looking at me.

My brain kept bouncing around, trying to decide whose fault it was. Most of the time I blamed Garet and Catherine. They were the ones that had made the situation. Their stupid pride led them to butting heads. Both of them wanted to be better than everybody else, and worse, they wanted to show it off. Garet refused to let somebody show him up, and Catherine refused to let anybody else have the spotlight for even a second. Somehow I'd just wound up stuck between the two of them. I wasn't responsible for what happened; that was all them.

No matter how hard I tried, though, I couldn't keep up that argument in my head. Over the past year and a half, I'd built up a grudging respect for Garet. He was smart, despite all appearances to the contrary, and he was definitely a strong player. And Catherine... well, I respected her skill, too. But it was more than that. Somehow over the past few months, I'd come to respect some of that fierce drive that made her such an asshole. I didn't think there was ever a way that I could actually like her. That said, I couldn't hate her the same way that Garet and some of the others did.

After my attempts to blame Garet and Catherine inevitably fell apart, I would always try to blame everybody else for a few seconds. They'd all been there. There had been seven of them, and one of Garet. They easily could've shut down his aggression. All they had to do was step in, say no, and tell him that he couldn't behave like that in the group.

That argument only lasted as long as it took for me to realize that that had also extended to me. That was the one conclusion I could never avoid. I had been there. The others would have followed me. I might not have been able to prevent what happened to Catherine, but I damn well could've done something about it.

I think that's the reason why I didn't go for a few days. The way everything had played out didn't sit well with me. Thinking back, even after everything that's happened since, it still doesn't. Catherine probably deserves everything bad that's ever happened to her, but that doesn't mean that I actually want bad things to happen to her.

I guess I'm getting ahead of myself, though. Where was I... ah, yes.

I finally went back to the court Monday of the next week. I probably wouldn't have, but my parents noticed that I wasn't going. Any break from the routine worried them, and they started asking questions I didn't want to answer. I considered just walking around for an hour or so after school instead of going to the court, but that sounded stupid even when I thought of it.

So I went back. It was... weird. I figured somebody would say something, ask me about what I'd been doing for the past few days, or ask to talk about what had happened. They didn't, though. Nobody batted an eyelid at me coming back; not even Garet. I just joined in with the practice without question.

Catherine hadn't showed up when we started playing. I knew better than to draw attention to the situation. We split up into teams, and started playing.

It was a normal game. Nothing much special happened. It was odd. Without Catherine there to go up against, I found that I didn't have push myself as hard. Even before I'd met Catherine, I could reliably block most of the people we usually played with, so my increased skill didn't make too big of a difference in that respect. The only place it really had an impact was when I was on the attack. I wasn't spectacular, but I had gone from one of our below average attackers to being somewhere among the best. It probably would've tipped the game in our favour if I'd decided to go all out, but I just... didn't. It wasn't really a conscious choice. I just didn't feel like it.

My team won the game, though it was quite close. I didn't stick around to talk to anybody afterwards. I just walked home feeling a bit... well, disappointed I guess.

The next few days went mostly the same. I played, and my team generally won. I always left feeling... I guess unsatisfied. Without Catherine there, everything felt kind of boring. I didn't have the opportunity to have those intense, short exchanges. I guess I could've gone a bit more all out against Garet, but I just didn't feel like it. Not to mention, I was still a bit nervous around him, and didn't want him to think I was pushing his buttons.

This kept up for about a week. By that point, we were firmly into March. We were still getting a decent amount of rain, but the days were getting nicer. I was still wearing my coat to play most days, and I was thankful that Garet never commented on it.

On the Wednesday after school of that week, I was walking over towards the court. My hands were shoved firmly into the pockets of my coat, and I had the hood pulled up against the rain. Anybody looking at me probably could've told that I was going deliberately slowly. I was probably busy feeling sorry for myself or something. I can't remember now. It kind of fades out in comparison to what happened next.

I had stopped at a light, waiting for the walk signal. I didn't notice the car until it pulled to a stop right in front of me. I glanced up surreptitiously at it, and stared for a moment, trying to place where I recognized it from.

About a second after I realized that it was Catherine's car, one of the back windows rolled down. I hesitated, then stepped over to it. Lounging on the other side of the backseat was Catherine. She was resting her beak on her hand, leaning against the door. She glanced over languidly at me, and then muttered, "Get in."

I couldn't think of a reply for a few seconds. I looked around the street once or twice, and then leaned over towards the window. "Are you kidding me?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

"You look like you're too bored to be telling some guy to jump into your car without warning."

I saw more than heard her sigh. She rolled her eyes, and when she spoke again, her voice sounded oddly tired. "Just get in the car, Hiro."

Maybe it was the way she said it. Maybe it was because I'd been so bored lately. All I know is that I opened the door, and slipped in. As soon as I pulled the door shut behind me, the car started moving.

I settled myself down in the leather seat, and took a quick look around. The interior of the car was every bit as luxurious as I'd imagined. Soft, beige leather lined all the seats. There was a layer of glass between the front and back seats, and I guessed from the how dark the glass was that it only went one way. Through it, I could just see that wolf that was always around, his eyes forward.

There were a few very long moments of awkward silence. I didn't really want to look over at Catherine. All I could think of was how she'd looked the last time I saw her, and that yawning, gnawing pit of guilt kept stealing my words.

After what felt like a long time, though, I couldn't take it anymore. I cleared my throat. "So is this the part where you tell me that your organisation has been keeping an eye on me?"

Beside me, Catherine sighed again. "Don't be an idiot."

I hesitated before responding. "Well you're the one that just showed up out of nowhere and ushered me into the back of a car. I think it's customary for you to start talking to me at this point."

She didn't respond this time. It was my turn to sigh. I looked out the tinted windows, watching Vancouver's downtown roll past for a while. I could barely even feel the bumps in the road as we moved along. For a brief second, I wondered whether this was all just another attempt on her part to show off how much money she had. The thought disappeared quickly. I really wasn't in the mood for questioning her motives or trying to figure out her passive aggressive taunts.

"You're angry with me." I was surprised to hear my own voice. When Catherine didn't respond, I continued. "Look, Garet's an ass. We all know that. I probably should've backed you up the other week." I waited again, hoping that she would say something, anything. I was about to go on when her voice finally cut me off.

"I'm bored, Hiro."

I blinked at that, caught off guard. After a few very long seconds, I finally looked over at her. She was still reclining against the door, looking out the window and away from me.

"...I'm sorry?"

"I'm bored. My high school has a policy against letting freshmen onto the senior team. Everybody at my practices is crap, and the actual games are jokes."

I stared at her, waiting for her to go on. She'd fallen quiet again, though. She still hadn't moved to look at me. "So what does that have to do with me being in the backseat of your car?"

She took her time to respond again. As she was tapping her fingers along her chin, though, I saw a bit of blood flow into those red patches beneath her eyes. Her voice was tight when she replied. "You're the only person I play against that's any challenge."

I blinked. "What?"

"Oh stop trying to be modest." She finally looked back over at me, her eyes narrowed. "You're good, Hiro. You're really good. You don't just get by on being tall or having a lot of muscle like most of the people we play with. You know how to read people and beat players that're twice your size and move faster than you. You're the first person I've ever met that can regularly block me." Somehow, she'd managed to turn her awkward, uncomfortable compliments into an aggressive accusation. I felt my back pressing against the door, as though she was actually advancing on me and forcing me backwards. "Drop the bullshit. You're better than anybody else I've played against."

I kept staring at her. I hadn't been ready for all that. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I said, "That still doesn't explain why I'm in the back of your car."

Catherine sighed. "I'm not going to get any better practicing with my school's junior team."

"So come back to playing with us."

"I'm not coming back so long as Garet's there." Her response was sharp and quick. Even more so than usual. She took a breath, then added more slowly, "Besides. With Garet around, both of us have to hold back."

"Then what do you want?"

Catherine's beak clacked a bit. I could tell she was choosing her words. She was finally going to spit it out.

"I have a court at my house. I want you to come over on the weekends to practice."

There was a very long silence after that. Catherine kept her eyes narrowed and her gaze focused on me. For my part, I was doing my best to keep my face straight as I thought about the situation. Had she just asked me over for a play date? Was that what all of this drama had been leading up to?

I managed to bite back my laughter, and instead just said, "Sorry. I can't."

She blinked. I guess she wasn't expecting to get rejected. "Why not?"

"I work on the weekends." I shrugged. "Between that and homework, I don't really have enough time for anything else."

Catherine kept glaring at me. I could tell that the gears were turning in her head. "Saturday and Sunday?"

"Eight hours both days."

"How much do they pay you?"

I immediately felt the mood in the car change. I suddenly didn't like where this was headed. "Minimum."

Catherine's beak clacked again. Then, "I'll pay you double."

"No."

"Just think about it."

"Stop the car. I'm getting out."

"Just listen to me--"

"You can't just buy me!" I was surprised to hear that I was yelling. This time it was her turn to back against the car door. "Look, you've got a lot of money. I get it. That doesn't just mean that you can get whatever the hell you want."

"I don't want to 'buy you.'" For a second, her voice was uncertain. Then, it went back to its normal confidence. "It isn't a bribe or anything like that. I'm asking you to be my trainer. That's a job. I'm willing to pay you for doing that job."

The two of us kept glaring at each other from across the backseat. I wasn't sure how I wanted to respond to that. In fact, I wasn't sure that I wanted to respond at all. Fortunately for me, Catherine spoke first.

"I've been an ass to you. I understand that. I should've listened to you about Garet. I've never been in a position before where somebody..." She stopped. "Where I wasn't in complete control. I didn't think he would actually try to do something. But you're good, Hiro. Really good. You can't tell me that you're not bored playing against all of them and holding back against him."

I sat back against the seat, and finally looked away from her again, back out the window. "Could you drop me off at the court?"

I phrased it as a question. I did my best to make it clear with my voice that it was anything but. After a moment, I heard Catherine press a button on her door and relay the order to her driver.

We were both completely silent for most of the drive back to the court. I kept my eyes fixed stubbornly out the window, not looking at her. I was thinking about it. Hard. My initial revulsion was still overpowering. I didn't want to agree to this. I kept remembering how awful I'd felt after accepting the offer of the new coat for teaching her how to improve. This would be on a completely different level. The amount of money that she would be paying me...

Again, I considered for a moment if this was just another way for her to show off. She could clearly afford to pay me twice as much as I normally made in a week without batting an eyelid. The way she'd put it to me didn't make it seem like a ploy, though. It was something she'd thought of on the spot. She hadn't been planning this.

I let my breath out through my beak, watching it cloud on the window and then slowly dry up. My aggression was calming by that point. My thoughts started turning to other things. Groceries were getting tight for us. Twice of my not-too-impressive wage wasn't going to make a huge difference... but it would at least guarantee that mom and I wouldn't have to completely add up the cost of food with the taxes every time to decide if we could afford an extra carton of juice.

"Would you mind stopping around the corner, where nobody will see me getting out?"

"Still worried about Garet?"

"Aren't you?"

She didn't reply. Instead, she just passed the request on to her driver.

We pulled up to the curb, just around the corner from the court. I opened the door without a word, and hopped out. As I tugged my backpack on, I glanced in through the open door.

"How do I get to your place?"

The tight look on her face loosened ever so slightly. "I can get Laurence to pick you up."

Laurence. What a name for a chauffeur. "Fine. Get him to pick me up here on Saturday."

"Eight o'clock."

"Sure."

She nodded. "I'll see you on Saturday."

I just nodded stiffly, then shut the door. I gave my head as I watched as her car roll away. Once the car had rounded the corner and left my sight, I shoved my hands back into the pockets of my coat, and started walking towards the court. I was going to be a bit late, but it wouldn't be hard to explain.

I rounded the corner, and saw that they had already started a game. I sighed as I easily picked out Garet's hulking figure slipping with ease through the rest of the players. I should've felt nervous. I knew what Garet would think if he found out that I was going to train privately with Catherine. That should've filled me with dread. The knowledge that I'd just given in to Catherine for money should've made me feel like dirt.

Oddly, though, as I crossed the street and started for the court, I didn't feel any of that. All I felt was excitement at the prospect of getting to play against her again.