Chapter 1: Alex
Freshman Year
The call with my father ended at 9:47 PM on a Tuesday in September of my freshman year.
I sat on the edge of my bed, phone still pressed to my ear even though the line had gone dead. The dial tone hummed for three seconds before I finally lowered it.
My dorm room was silent. Everything perfectly organized—desk clear except for my laptop and a lamp, books alphabetized, clothes hung by color. My mother helped me move into Whitmore Hall three weeks ago, while my father had stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, nodding approval.
Remember, you’re representing this family,was the last thing he said. Not,I love you son.Not,You’re going to do great.Just more pressure.
The call had been the same as always. How were classes? Was I managing? Was I training enough?
I’d given him the answers he wanted. Yes, yes, and yes. Coach Eldridge had put me in the boat for fall training.
“Good. The Harrington name carries weight at Kingswell. Your great-grandfather helped build that crew program. People are watching you,” he said.
“I know.”
“At least you’re not like James. Discipline matters in this family.”
James. My cousin. Three years older. Taught me how to skip rocks when I was eight and made me laugh during endless formal dinners.
Then he came out three years ago and I hadn’t seen him since. His name was mentioned only in passing, usually with words like “disappointing” or “unfortunate” attached.
I pressed the heel of my hand against my chest. It felt tight. Like something was sitting on my ribs, making it hard to breathe.
Just a few weeks ago I was spending every day with Liam. I could still feel what it was like to be with him. My chest alive and wild, the smell of him underneath his sweat and deodorant when he got close. The taste of his lips against mine and the certainty that came with it the night we first kissed.
One week ago, it was over. We found out we were going to rival schools and I ended it.
I told myself it was for both of us. That walking away was kinder than dragging it out. But the truth—the truth I couldn’t admit even to myself—was that I was terrified. Not of Liam, but of what wanting him meant. How easy it would be to let myself fall completely and lose everything my family had built, everything my father expected, everything the Harrington name promised me.
Four years.
I just had four more years of this.
Four years of maintaining the Harrington standard. I winced at the thought of it.
My phone dinged on the desk.
Marcus
team bonding starts in 20. you coming?
The freshman crew bonding thing was Coach Eldridge’s idea of “building team chemistry” before fall racing season started.
I stared at the message for a long moment, then turned my phone to vibrate and shoved it in my pocket.
I couldn’t stay in this room, so I grabbed my wallet and left.
***
The night air was cool, almost cold. September in New England meant the leaves were just starting to turn, the heat of summer giving way to the bite of fall. I kept my hands in my pockets and my head down.
Kingswell’s campus gave way to the small college town that surrounded it. Old brick buildings and local shops that catered to students. A vintage record store. A coffee shop with mismatched furniture and pretentious art on the walls. A bookstore with a cat that lived in the window.
I walked past all of it.
