"Hey, Wyatt!" Adrian calls back in the exact same tone while poring over a clipboard with player stats from the game, not looking at first and expecting Wyatt to tell him what he wants. When there's no response, he glances up, and now Wyatt's cicada is more like seven eighths of the way to his tongue.

Adrian panics. "MALSTROM!" he blurts, throwing an arm out, neither of which are actually going to stop Wyatt from licking that bug rock with one game left in the season.