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“Public relations is a scourge on society,” Shane mumbles beside me.

“Now, there is nothing I hate more in this world than team-building activities,” Jensen continues. “With that said, I have great news—I was informed that I personally don’t have to participate, so…”

For once in his life, Jensen is positively beaming.

“I’d like to introduce you to Sheldon and Nance Laredo. Do everything they ask, or you’re off the team. I’ll leave you to it.”

I half expect him to put some flowers in his hair and skip off the stage like a giddy schoolgirl. He chuckles all the way to the exit.

Nance Laredo steps forward with a sunny smile, waving vigorously. “We’re so excited to meet y’all!”

Everyone stares back at her, stone-faced.

“Sheldon and I were told that a bunch of silly someones are having a problem with team unity.” She uses that singsong tone reserved for puppies and kindergarteners.

I can already tell I’m going to hate her.

“And boy, that sure is an obstacle,” Sheldon chimes in.

Yeah. I’m going to hate him too.

All my teammates continue to stare at the grinning, pastel-clad robots. Trying to make sense of them in our minds.

“Someone. Please. Please kill me now,” Rand Hawley mumbles. “I’ll pay you.”

Several chuckles ring out. And not just from the Eastwood guys.

Patrick Armstrong shoots his hand up to get the robots’ attention. “Did you see that? We don’t need team unity!” He points at Rand, then Trager. “He laughed at his joke, and they hate each other. See, we’re all done here. Let’s go, everyone.”

When asses start to rise from chairs, the Disney siblings transform into drill sergeants. They both blow the whistles hanging around their necks.

I wince at the shrill noises that pierce through the auditorium and bounce off the walls.

“Like Nance said,” Sheldon says when our eardrums have recovered. “We were brought here by the university because there are real concerns about the behavior of this team.”

“Real concerns,” Nance echoes.

“Someone was injured because of the hostility bubbling all around you,” Sheldon chastises. “We cannot let the hostility continue to bubble.”

“That is a death sentence,” Nance agrees.

“I mean, that’s a bit dramatic,” Shane says, and they both ignore him.

“The best way to break through this tension and animosity is to stop treating each other as enemies and start viewing each other as fellow human beings.”

“Human beings,” Nance repeats, nodding. She takes over for Sheldon. “For the next hour, we’re going to do just that. Is everyone ready?”

Everyone is not. We all look at her sullenly.

“Our first activity is called Name and Thing. Grab the beanbag, Shel!”

“Why is there always a beanbag?” sighs Beckett.

Sheldon darts over to a large plastic tub containing horrors I hope never to have to see. He scoops out a pink beanbag and returns to the circle, tossing the bag back and forth between his own hands. He looks so excited I expect urine stains to appear at the front of his khakis at some point.

“I don’t want to play hockey anymore,” Nazzy says solemnly, looking around. “I quit the team.”

Nance laughs. “Sheldon! Looks like we found the joker in the group.”

“We sure did.” Sheldon sweeps his happy robot gaze over us. “This game is so easy, it barely requires explanation. But here’s how it goes. When the bag is in your hands, you say your name and a thing that you like. When you’re done, you toss the bag to somebody else, until everyone on the team has said their name and their thing.”

“And it can be anything you like,” exclaims Nance. “It can be pasta. It can be daydreaming. Anything at all, so long as you like it. Any questions?”

Someone raises his hand. A senior named Tristan.

“Why are you guys so cheerful? What kind of drugs do you take, and do they show up in drug tests?”

A wave of laughter travels through the circle.

Nance addresses the question earnestly. “I can’t speak for Sheldon, but I’m cheerful because I feel cheer. And I feel cheer because I love uniting people. In fact, toss me the beanbag, Sheldon.”

He throws it into her open palms.

“My name is Nance. And I like uniting people. That’s my name. And that’s my thing.”

She throws it back to Sheldon who beams at us. “My name is Sheldon,” he says. “And I like cheesecake.”

“See how easy that was?” Nance is smiling so hard, it looks like her jaw’s about to snap in two. “Okey dokey, let’s start.”

The first toss goes to a Briar guy. Boone Woodrow.

The normally quiet sophomore clears his throat. “Uh. My name’s Boone but everyone calls me Woody.”

“Oh, this is more fun than I thought,” Sheldon interrupts, nodding at Nance. “Share your nicknames if you have them, boys. Go on, Woody. What’s your thing?”

“I, uh…” Woodrow thinks it over. “I like hockey.”

Before he can lob the bag to someone else in the circle, Nance wags her finger.

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