81. Cryptic

I looked at the plate of eggs in front of me, absentmindedly pushing them around with my fork, not particularly interested in eating. My body felt like one giant bruise, every muscle aching from the beating we had taken in that damn game.

Around me, the guys weren't doing any better. They looked battered, their faces drawn and spirits crushed.

We were supposed to be the best, but last night, we got our asses handed to us, plain and simple.

Bear sat across from me. "Th..they w...were like a d...amn freight train," he muttered.

"More like a wrecking ball," I corrected, shoving my plate away. "We trained our asses off, and they made us look like we'd just crawled out of the Little League."

Jules leaned back in his chair. "I'm telling you, it didn't make sense. There was no way they got that good overnight. We've faced them before. They were never that fast or that coordinated. Something changed."

Kris had been uncharacteristically quiet. "You think… you think they let us win?"

It was ri