"Development program. It's a pipeline. They invite maybe forty guys, train for three months, then select boats for international competition." Jace said it matter-of-fact. "Camp's in Oklahoma City. I need to be done with classes by mid-December to make the start date."
"Holy shit," Tyler said. "That's legit."
"It's the plan." Jace shrugged. "Has been for a while. Just didn't want to make a thing of it until it was locked."
"So this is your last—" Evan started.
"Last fall season. Yeah." Jace's voice was steady. Not sad. Just real. "One more month in a Riverside jersey. Make it count."
The group went quiet for a few steps as we crossed the main quad.
"Does this mean I can have your locker? It's closer to the showers," Tyler asked.
Jace almost smiled. "Get your GPA above a 2.5 and we'll talk."
Everyone laughed. The moment passed. They started talking about the quad's race strategy, about Remy's new start sequence, about whether Evan could survive a full race-pace piece without throwing up.
I walked with them and didn't talk.
U23. National team. Olympic pipeline.
Jace was doing it. The thing I'd been told didn't happen for guys like us—scholarship kids from nowhere, no family name, no connections. Jace was proving it wrong.
That could be me someday.
The thought landed and I pushed it away. Too big. Too far. Too much to think about when I couldn't even afford a hotel room.
The guys split off toward the dining hall. Tyler trying to convince Evan that the breakfast burrito was "life-changing." Jace peeled away toward the academic buildings—probably to talk to his advisor about the December timeline.
I pulled out my phone and instinctively checked for a text from Emily.
None.
I absently scrolled to our thread. Read the last few messages. Mine, mostly. Lies dressed up as explanations. Half-truths about the break-in. Deflections about Alex.
Noah said give her space.
She knew about the kiss. She'd saws us—me and Alex, his mouth on mine, the moment I couldn't take back. She'd asked if I was in love with him and I hadn't answered.
I didn't know if I was in love with him. How could I? But I knew thinking about the other night in the parking lot with Emily made my chest hurt with guilt.
I owed her more than silence. I owed her honesty. But I didn't know how to be honest about something I still couldn't name.
I closed the thread.
Walked past the dining hall. Glanced through the windows—crowded, loud, trays and coffee cups and people who didn't have to lie about who they were. I scanned for her without meaning to.
Couldn't find her. Or maybe I could and my brain was protecting me from the gut-punch of seeing her face.
Either way, the absence was loud.
***
It was later that night and the dorm room smelled like debate prep and cheap coffee.
Noah was at his desk—laptop open, index cards fanned out in that organized chaos that somehow made sense to his brain. The Riverside Debate Invitational was at the end of the semester and Noah took that shit as seriously as I took racing.
I dropped my bag inside the door and collapsed face-first onto my bed. Every muscle in my body ached.
