Emily nudged my shin with her foot. “Liam,” she said.
I blinked up at her.
She’d stopped talking, fork paused midair, eyes warm and searching.
“You’re not listening,” she said.
“Sorry.”
“You okay?” she asked, tilting her head.
I swallowed. “I’m fine.”
“What’s up?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Nothing. I’m just... thinking about this season. Keeping my scholarship. Scouts. It’s a big year.”
The lie tasted thin.
Her expression softened. “You’ll be fine, Liam. You work so hard.”
I wanted to believe her. But all I could picture was Alex’s boat crossing the imaginary finish line ahead of mine.
Then a tray slammed down onto the table beside us, making me jump.
“Yo,” said Tyler—a junior from Riverside’s four with sandy hair and dimples—as he dropped into the seat across from me. “Guess what I just heard.”
Emily blinked at him. “Hello to you too.”
Tyler ignored her. “Dude, rumor is we’re doing a scrimmage with Kingswell this weekend.”
I paused and put down the hash brown. “What? Already?”
Tyler grinned like he was announcing a holiday. “Yup. And guess who I heard you’ll be matched against?”
I didn’t need to hear it. I already felt the answer in my chest.
Tyler leaned forward. “Alex Harrington.”
Emily sucked in a breath.
Tyler smirked.
My pulse kicked hard, that same electric burn rising under my sternum. A scrimmage before preseason assessment was unheard of, so there was a chance Tyler was just messing with me.
But the thought of being put in a single at a scrimmage was exciting. And another shot at Alex... well... I had mixed feelings after my defeat this morning. If I could just tighten a few things up, I could win.
I only needed to beat him by one seat. Just one seat.
“We didn’t even do preseason placement yet...” I said.
“You’re right.” Tyler shook his head. “But it’ll probably be you... last year you were both top freshmen.”
I clenched my jaw. “We’ll see. I could use another shot at him.”
And I meant it.
More than Tyler knew. More than Emily could understand. More than I could admit even to myself.
