Jax is… drowning. And he’s taking all of us down with him.
Coach stands up at the front of the bus. “Listen up. Arizona State is second in the conference. They’re fast, they’re physical, and they play dirty. We need to be sharper than we’ve been. Especially you, top line.”
His eyes land on me, then Callum, then Jax.
Jax doesn’t even look up.
Coach’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t call him out. Just sits back down.
Callum leans over. “This is going to be a disaster.”
“We’ll make it work.”
“How? He won’t even look at us.”
I don’t have an answer for that.
We arrive at the hotel around four. Coach is handing out room keys at the front desk.
“Morrison and Kirby, 310. Wickerham, Brixton, and Kingsway room 304—”
“I need a single,” Jax interrupts.
Everyone stops and looks at him.
Coach frowns. “We don’t have singles on the road. You know that.”
“Then I’ll pay for one myself.”
“Jax—”
“I need space.” His voice is flat. His decision is final. He’s already made up his mind.
Coach stares at him for a long moment. Then he turns to the desk clerk. “Can we get one more room?”
The clerk checks. “We have a single on the fifth floor.”
“Fine. Bill it to the team.” Coach hands Jax the key without looking at him.
Callum steps forward. “Dude, what the fuck?”
Jax takes the key. “I said I need space.”
“We’ve roomed together for three years.”
“Things change.”
He walks toward the elevator without another word.
I watch him go, feeling the entire team watching us. They’re probably wondering what the hell is going on.
Nolan leans over. “Everything okay with you guys?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “Just personal shit.”
“Doesn’t seem personal if it’s affecting the team.”
He’s right. But I don’t know what to say.
