I snap back into motion, shove the confusion down, and hurry toward the casting grounds.
***
The thud of fists on padded gloves echoes across the training field. My knuckles sting as I snap forward with another jab, only for Holly to catch it easily and shove me into the motion of a quick uppercut.
“Good,” she says, circling me like a hawk. “Now pivot on the balls of your feet, not your heels—yes, there. You’ve got the strength, Arwen, but you’ve got to let it flow.”
I grit my teeth, sweat dripping into my eyes. I drive forward, punch after punch, trying to lose myself in the rhythm.
“And speaking of flow…” Holly smirks, dodging. “How are things flowing with Ryker?”
I stumble over my own feet. “Focus, Holly. Left hook or right?”
“Left—and don’t think I didn’t see you flinch at his name.” Her eyes glint as she blocks me. “He’s been sending you flowers and notes like he’s auditioning for a tragic romance.”
“Not talking about this,” I mutter, ducking under her swing.
Beside us, Brix and Sly spar harder, fists cracking into pads with sharper force.
“Our dorm is a garden of flowers at this point.” She laughs.
When Holly says flowers, Brix’s jaw tightens, and his next punch slams harder into Sly’s ribs. Sly stumbles, swears under his breath, but Brix only squares his shoulders and swings again—fast, brutal.
From the sidelines, Tabby leans toward Cleo with a raised brow. “Someone’s working out their feelings,” she whispers.
Cleo’s gaze flicks from Brix back to me, her snort edged with something less amused. “You think?”
“Eyes up!” Holly snaps, tapping my chin when my guard slips. “That so-called date must be distracting you.”
“It wasn’t a date,” I say, countering with a jab.
“Sure,” Holly drawls. “Because friendly get-togethers always happen around romantic ponds.”
Heat crawls up my neck, and my punch lands harder than I mean it to. Holly shakes her hand out and laughs. “Hit a nerve?”
Another crack—Brix’s fist colliding with Sly’s shoulder. Sly staggers back this time, scowling. “What the hell, Brix?”
“Keep up,” Brix mutters, his voice tight, his eyes flicking toward me for half a second before cutting away.
By the time Holly calls it, we’re all breathless, sprawled across the grass, chests heaving. Sweat shines on our skin under the sinking sun.
Cleo drops onto her back with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. We get it. You don’t want to talk about your date—”
“Friendly get-together,” I cut in, wiping my face with my sleeve.
“Right,” she says. “Friendly get-together. But we’re worried about you. We’re past midterms now. We’ve slowed down on the research, having hit multiple dead ends, but… you don’t seem as anxious as you were.”
I stay silent.
“Will you at least tell us if Ryker’s actually going to help? So we don’t feel like we’re just waiting for the sky to fall?” she says.
Their stares weigh heavy on me. I take a long breath. “You’re right. It hasn’t been fair—keeping so much from you. Especially after everything you’ve already done for me… but I promise, it’s not what you think.”
Tabby sits cross-legged, leaning forward. “So spill.”
I nod, throat tight. “I spoke with the Dean a few weeks ago. She wanted a status update. Things didn’t go well when I told her nothing had changed. But I’ve been thinking…”
They watch me, waiting to hear my idea.
