The alarm on my phone went off at 5:47 a.m.—thirteen minutes before the hour because round numbers were too normal. Ivy groaned from her bed, pulling her pillow over her head.
"Whoareyou?" she mumbled.
"Someone who wants first pick of the showers." I was already sliding my feet into flip-flops, towel over my shoulder. The hallway was quiet, fluorescent lights humming their institutional lullaby. Three other early risers shuffled toward the bathroom, eyes half-closed, and I nodded at them without speaking. Some silences are sacred.
By the time I returned, Ivy had achieved verticality—barely. She sat on the edge of her bed, blinking at her phone like it had personally betrayed her.
"First day of real classes," she said. "Why does that feel worse than orientation?"
"Because orientation was chaos. This is structure." I pulled on dark leggings and a fitted long-sleeve, practical layers for whatever the day threw at me. "Structure means expectations."
"God, you're philosophical before coffee." She stumbled toward her closet. "What's your first class?"
I checked my schedule, though I'd already memorized it. "PE. Physical Development with Coach Reeves."
Ivy made a face. "I've heard things about Reeves. Military background. Makes freshmen cry."
"Sounds like my kind of morning."
She threw a sock at me. I caught it without looking, and her eyebrows shot up.
"Okay,thatwas creepy."
I just smiled and tossed it back.
The athletic complex sat at the eastern edge of campus, a sprawling facility with climbing walls visible through floor-to-ceiling windows. Students filtered in wearing various interpretations of "athletic wear"—some clearly hoping to avoid actual exertion, others radiating competitive energy.
I felt James before I saw him. That hum beneath my skin, the one I'd been trying to ignore since I crashed into him, flared to life like a pilot light catching flame. He was across the gym, stretching near the climbing wall, that ridiculous cowboy hat replaced by a simple baseball cap. He caught my eye and smiled—not a smirk, just genuine warmth aimed directly at me.
I looked away.
Coach Reeves blew a whistle that could've shattered glass. She stood at the center of the gym, with the kind of athletic build that suggested she could outrun, outclimb, and outlast every student here combined. Her silver-threaded hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail, and her eyes swept over us like she was cataloging weaknesses.
"Welcome to Physical Development," she said. Her voice didn't need a microphone. "This isn't PE. I don't care if you can hit a volleyball or remember the rules of basketball. What I care about is whether you can survive."
A few nervous laughs rippled through the group. Reeves didn't smile.
"Survival requires three things: strength, endurance, and situational awareness. Today, we test all three." She gestured toward an obstacle course that looked like it belonged in a military training facility. "Pair up. You'll run this course together. Your time only counts ifbothpartners finish."
The scramble for partners began. Ivy wasn't in this class and I hung back, assessing the course. Rope climb, balance beam over foam pit, cargo net, low crawl under what looked like actual barbed wire, sprint to finish.
"Need a partner?"
James appeared beside me. The hum intensified, and I clenched my jaw against it.
"You sure you can keep up?" The words came out sharper than I intended.
He just grinned. "Guess we'll find out."
Reeves sent pairs through in waves. I watched the first few attempts—students struggling on the rope climb, losing balance, getting tangled in the cargo net. Mental notes: the rope had good knots for footholds, the beam wobbled at the center point, the cargo net was easier if you stayed low.
Our turn came. James positioned himself beside me at the starting line, and I caught his scent—pine and something warmer underneath, like sunlight on hay. Focus.
The whistle blew.
I hit the rope first, muscle memory from years of training taking over. Feet hooked, arms pulling, rhythm established. I was at the top before most pairs had cleared the first obstacle, and I let myself drop, landing in a controlled roll that brought me to my feet.
James was right behind me. Faster than I'd expected.
