Page 107 of Racing Hearts

The camera jostles as Rohan stands. His voice bites out through the clamoring crowd. “Do you want the job, Coach?”

Adrian looks at him. Right at the camera. Right at me.

“I would be lying,” Adrian says, “if I said the answer was entirely yes. It’s a really big promotion. It’s an almost overwhelming challenge, so I’m not positive that I’ll succeed. But—” He takes a breath and rolls his thumb over his palm. “I want to give it a try. Someone I trust told me that I’m selling myself short. That I’m better than I think I am. I’d like to see if that’s true.”

My heart lurches with love and pride.

The angle changes as Rohan plants his phone in someone else’s hands. The video catches his face. He crosses his arms and the frowning teens filling the room turn. Even though this happened more than a day ago now, my lungs still as I await his verdict.

Rohan looks around the room, administering his attention to each person’s face. Then he says, “If he wants it, then I think Coach Crawford should take this job.”

My breath releases in a rush. On the video, faces uncertainly swivel toward one another. This, apparently, is not what the other kids expected. Still, Rohan tips his chin defiantly, waiting for someone to challenge his verdict.

One of them rises to it—Matt, a petty kid with a mop of curly hair and a splash of acne. “And just leave us? He’d let us taper alone and only show up for the medal ceremony? What kind of coach would do that?”

Rohan wheels on him. “He’s the only reason any of us qualified for Nationals in the first place and the only reason any of us has a shot at medaling. He got us this far. We can go the rest of the way ourselves—supporting one another. Figuring it out. It’s what he would do for us if the tables were turned. It’s what he’s always done for us.”

“Yeah,” Matt spits back. “Except now. When we need him most.”

“Actually,” Peter says, low enough that if the room weren’t already quiet, he might not have been heard, “when he needs us most, we’ll be there for him.”

My heart stutters as silence descends once again, even thicker this time.

Rohan nods, pleased, then turns to Adrian. “I think you should take that job, Coach. We’ll be fine. We want you to be happy.”

Adrian looks around the room. The stunned silence has shifted—an occasional nod. A half smile.

Another guy jumps to his feet. “I agree with Rohan and Peter. You should go for it, Coach.”

“Yeah, we think you should do it!” another yells.

“We support you.”

The kids break out into applause. Adrian blinks and raises a knuckle to his eye.

The video ends.

I’m so happy for him. I’m so proud of him.

But I’m so devastated for myself. It’s all turned out even worse than I thought it could.

I love Adrian. I love rowing.

I’ve just lost both.

Thirty-Three

Choking back tears, I stagger uphill, dump my shell into some slings, and pull out my phone. There’s really only one person who I can turn to at this moment. Still, my thumb hovers over the name, indecision stalling me.

Mom and I have only talked superficially since our fight about Rob. I don’t know how she’ll react to me calling her now, unburdening on her about heartbreak—the very thing that has driven us apart.

Yet I have no one else to help me process the deluge of emotions that are threatening to break my carefully constructed dam.

The phone rings as I wedge myself into a sliver of space between a couple of tents. Back here, I’m somewhat protected from the crackle of the loudspeaker and the wind that’s snapping flags like whips.

“Kath, hello.”

Grass stabs the backs of my bare legs as I sink to a seat. “Mom. Can we talk?”