No proper send-off.
Just bags packed, gear loaded, heads down.
The trophy travels separately with staff.
No one feels like posing for photos.
The bus is waiting outside the hotel.
And so are they.
Press.
More than I’ve ever seen for a college team.
Cameras.
Microphones.
Voices already calling out before we even step through the doors.
“Blake-!”
“Zane - over here-!”
“What’s your response to the situation with-”
“Did you know-”
“Is the title being revoked-”
There isn’t even one question about the win.
Just her.
I push forward, keeping my head down, trying to move through it.
But they don’t let up.
“Where is she?” someone calls.
“Why isn’t she with the team?”
“Is she being disciplined?”
“She cheated - do you think that’s fair to the rest of you?”
My jaw tightens.
Keep moving.
Just get on the bus.
Then one voice cuts through sharper than the rest.
“So what was she doing in the locker room?”
I stop.
