The room shifts.
The rookies suddenly look very interested in their laces.Whitaker bites the inside of his cheek.Finn—sitting two seats down—keeps his eyes on the table, pretending not to feel the tension.
Coach folds his arms.“You’re off.I don’t know why.But if the captain’s head isn’t in it, the team’s isn’t either.”
He’s right.
But I’m not about to sit here and talk about the real reason:
A small, exhausted trainer who jumped when I said her name.
A woman who backed away from me like I could break her without touching her.
Someone whose absence is currently punching a hole in my chest.
I force my expression blank.“I’m fine.”
“Are you?”Coach fires back.
Finn shoots me a quick look, the kind that saysYou gonna lie or tell him the truth?
I look away.“I’ll handle it.”
Coach grunts.“Good.Because until you do, this team’s gonna keep skating like newborn deer.”
A few guys snort.I don’t.
Coach dismisses us, but as I stand, he calls out—
“Kael.”
I stop.
“Whatever’s going on,” he says quietly, voice low enough that only I hear, “fix it before Friday.”
“I will.”
I say it like a promise.
But the truth is, I’m not sure how.
I file out with the others.Whitaker and one of the rookies shove each other playfully, joking about something dumb.Finn falls into step beside me as we head down the hallway.
“You okay?”he asks under his breath.
I answer the same way I answered Coach.“I’m fine.”
Finn doesn’t buy it.He never does.“Because you seem...tense.”
“I’m always tense.”
“Okay, yeah, but this is like—extra Kael tension.Like someone-punched-you-in-the-soul tension.”
I don’t respond.
Because I’m not talking about it.
Not with him.
