Page 73 of False Catch

Jackson reaches for the dock first, pulling us in with unnecessary force. The boat lurches, and I have to grip the gunnels to keep from pitching forward. A week ago, Gray would have snapped at him for the rough landing. Now he just sits there, staring at nothing.

"Out of the boat," I say, though they're already moving.

I stay seated as they climb out, partly because my legs are shaking and partly because I need a moment before I face what's waiting on shore. Through the forest of bodies, I can see Coach Bennett standing at the top of the boat ramp, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Other crews are watching us too. Bayside's coxswain catches my eye and gives me a look that might be sympathy or might be pity. Hard to tell. Harder to care.

"You good?" Eli asks, pausing by my seat.

"Fine," I lie.

He doesn't push, just offers his hand to help me out. I take it because my pride can't override the very real possibility that my legs won't hold me. The claiming bite under my concealer throbs—a constant reminder of why we're falling apart.

My feet hit the dock, and the world tilts slightly. Eli steadies me with a hand on my elbow, gentle but firm.

"When's the last time you ate?" he asks quietly.

I can't remember. Yesterday maybe? The days have been blurring together—managing the team fracture, avoiding Gray, pretending everything's normal while Jackson's mark burns on my neck like a brand. Add in the fun photo collage plastered outside my Business Strategies class and the last few days have left me without the desire or the ability to eat more than a few crackers or nuts at a time.

"I'm fine," I repeat, pulling away.

The walk up the ramp feels endless. Each crew we pass goes quiet, watching us like we're some kind of cautionary tale. The mighty Sable Ridge reduced to barely scraping through a dual meet. I keep my shoulders back, chin up, but inside I'm screaming.

"Callahan." Coach Bennett's voice cuts through the morning air. "Walk with me."

It's not a request. I follow him away from the dock, toward the parking area where our trailer sits. My team's eyes track us, but none of them follow. They know Coach meant for this to be just between us.

We stop by the equipment van, far enough from everyone that we won't be overheard. Bennett pulls out a water bottle from the cooler and hands it to me.

"Drink. Your voice sounds like hell."

I comply, the cool water soothing my raw throat. He watches me with those weathered eyes that have seen forty years of crews come and go.

"That was the worst race I've seen from a Sable Ridge crew in fifteen years," he says finally.

"We qualified."

"By two feet." He shakes his head. "You held that boat together with spit and prayers. That's not rowing, that's damage control."

I don't answer because he's right. My voice is shot, my body is running on fumes, and I can feel the team splintering more with each stroke.

"Jackson was trying to stroke from three seat," Bennett continues, ticking off on his fingers. "Gray was so focused on controlling him that he forgot to actually set a rhythm. Your middle four rowed like two different boats, and Cameron looked like he wanted to throw himself overboard."

Each observation stings because they're all accurate. I saw it all, felt it all, tried to compensate through increasingly desperate commands.

"You want to know what Northshore's coach said to me?" Bennett asks. "He asked if we were rowing sick. Said it was painful to watch a crew with that much talent row that badly."

"We're working through some things."

He snorts. "Working through?" His eyes drop to my neck, where I realize the concealer has completely sweated off during the race. The claiming mark is visible, still red around the edges.

"Ah," he says quietly. "That explains a few things."

My hand flies to cover it. "Coach, I—"

"Save it." He waves me off. "I've been coaching long enough to recognize pack dynamics when I see them. The way those boys started circling you from day one, the way you hold them together, the perfect practice in the tanks last week—I knew something was building."

"You knew?"