Hollis studied him, eyes narrowing, as if Fly had just handed him something sharper than an observation and more pointed than a lesson. Something he didn’t quite know how to respond to.
“Old story,” Hollis muttered. “Doesn’t matter for the race.”
Except it obviously did. Fly and Hollis had clashed before. They didn’t mesh, not as student and instructor, and not in how they saw the water.
Hollis straightened. “All you need to focus on is sailing cleanly, following orders, and not choking when Crimson Star crowds Valor at the first leg.”
Fly’s brows tugged together. “Valor is the stronger of the two vessels. I don’t choke, sir.”
Hollis smirked. “We’ll see.”
Fly held his gaze for half a heartbeat longer than necessary.
There it was again, that instinctive prickle of distrust. Not because Hollis wasn’t competent. He clearly was. But something about the man felt…insecure beneath the polish.
“Course briefing in ten,” Hollis said, turning back to the chart. “Don’t be late.”
Fly nodded and walked toward the boats, the unease sticking to him like a burr under his skin.
He’d learned, long before Annapolis, never to ignore the first stir of a bad current.
When he rounded the corner toward the dock, Mei was waiting, fists clenched, eyes flashing.
“Ooh, he’s such a jerk,” she snapped. “He has no idea who you are. But maybe now he does. I think he was the one feeling small.”
Fly waved it off. “It’s fine, Mei. We know who we are. Don’t we?”
Her expression softened instantly. She reached for his hand and squeezed hard. “Yes, we do.”
Than walked up then, his gaze dropping to their joined hands before lifting again. His mouth tightened just slightly. “What’s up?”
“Ran into our instructor,” Fly said lightly.
“What wisdom did he impart?” Than asked, one brow arching.
Mei filled him in, quick and pointed. Than stiffened.
“Not anything you couldn’t handle,” he said. “I don’t like him. He’s self-serving.”
Fly blew out a breath. “Agreed. Something about him just… I don’t know. Old-money names always sound like they own a law firm or a polo team. Kit. Tripp. Whit. Pick a preppy noun, add a consonant, and boom.”
Than’s mouth twitched. “He does look like he should own a polo pony.”
“And a small law firm,” Mei added, deadpan.
Fly snorted. “Or a yacht called Trust Fund.”
Than cleared his throat. “Don’t you have a trust fund coming your way, there, Biff?”
Fly barked a laugh and shoved him. “Shut up, Than.”
Mei giggled as they headed toward Valor.
She did that a lot around Than.
How was he just noticing?
Than smirked, subtle but unmistakably satisfied.
