Teagan
“Dropping Ryder down a seat won’t do anything,” she announced. “He’s not your problem.”
Coach Hayden looked at her like she’d been speaking Martian. “Excuse me?”
The coaches were still staring at her, and it wasn’t like she had anything to lose, so she continued. “Demoting Ryder wouldn’t be fair. He isn’t rowing well because he’s trying to match Josh. Josh is the one who isn’t pulling enough. You should swap him.”
Coach and Lana shared an Aww, isn’t she adorable? look.
No. She just knew a lot about rowing.
Lana raised her eyebrow. “Okay, then. Who would you put on the throne?”
Cleaning goose shit off the dock was worse than not rowing at all, so Teagan figured she might as well be honest. If they banished her from the lake, at least she wouldn’t have to endure the torture of watching the Easton Eagles sink their chances of soaring.
“Cam’s got the best technique and he’s working the hardest,” she said. “But the team doesn’t seem to like him, so you should put the big guy in six in the bow.”
“Bronson?” Coach asked at the same time Lana said, “Baloo?”
She shrugged. “He’s got the brawn, and the team obviously loves him. Which is important, because no one’s listening to the cox.”
Coach Hayden rocked back on his heels, impressed. “Astute.” He turned to Lana. “Think we should switch Josh?”
Lana snorted. “I’d like to keep my job, thank you.”
Coach gave her a suit-yourself shrug. “I don’t think I’ll have one to worry about soon if we don’t start winning.”
Interesting. Josh clearly had more control over more things at Easton than the other students. She’d made some other observations she could’ve shared, but the guys were jogging back down.
She dragged her broom to the side and listened in as Coach gathered them around. “Last set of the day. We’re going to change it up. Baloo, you’re in eight.”
Baloo looked around the group in disbelief. “Holy shit.”
“What the hell?” Josh shouted.
Coach ignored him. “Ryder, you keep seven. Cam’s in six.” He rattled off the rest of the seats, then, to Josh, said, “You’re in bow.”
Shell-shocked didn’t come close to describing their reaction. But Teagan was buzzing.
“Coach, you can’t be serious.” Josh laughed. “Bow is Crabby’s seat.”
Meaning, he thought it was beneath him.
“Not for this run it isn’t.” Before Josh could launch into him again, Coach Hayden made a cool-your-jets gesture. “We’re just trying something out.”
The guys, pumped, started climbing into the boat in their new positions. Except, of course, for Josh. “You can’t do this.”
Coach made a face that said he could and would. “Get in the boat.”
Teagan gave up on the goose poop. She had to see this.
Fuming, Josh climbed into the boat, barely helping as the crew rowed into starting position.
Coach sounded the starter horn.
Teagan had never thought watching a run could match the adrenaline rush she felt rowing, but she was invested.
Baloo, as predicted, was a machine. The rest of the guys were pushing to keep up. The run wasn’t perfect, far from it, but they were rowing a lot better than they had been.
When they passed the finish line, Coach Hayden gave his stopwatch a satisfied click. “They shaved off eight seconds.” He gave Teagan a nod.
It wasn’t a huge endorsement, let alone what she really wanted—free access to the boathouse—but it felt strangely good. Like being part of the team.
“Coach!” Josh flew out of the boat as soon as they returned to the dock and stormed toward them.
Lana took a step back. “I’m out.”
Leaving seemed a wise course of action.
Teagan was shouldering her backpack in the boathouse’s Great Room, about to make her escape, when Josh burst in, still furious. “Hey! What’s your problem?”
She played innocent. “Me?”
“I saw you talking to Coach. I’ve been in stroke seat since I’ve been at this school. Now I’m down to bow?”
All the pent-up frustration and anger that had been brewing in her since her dad had disappeared roared up out of nowhere. “Maybe you’re not the best rower,” she shot back. “Maybe you’re not pulling your weight. Maybe you should keep your head in the boat instead of up your ass.”
He closed the space between them, the way guys did when they were gunning for a fight. He was so close she could smell his expensive cologne and minty breath. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Who the hell are you?” she spat back, which was a stupid thing to say, because they both knew the answer to that.
So what if he sat in a different seat for a run? He was in a boat! Didn’t he see it? He had what she wanted and he didn’t even appreciate it.
He took a deliberate step back. “I’m Josh Regis. Watch yourself.”
He wanted her to watch? She’d watch. She watched as he turned on his heel, strode toward an enormous cedar beam where he shot finger pistols at its shiny new plaque. It read:
REGIS BOATHOUSE
Oops.
She got a flat on her bike ride home. In the middle of nowhere. Any remaining tendrils of triumph she’d felt after Coach had tried out her suggestions were long gone.
A truck pulled up beside her.
Cam.
Of course it was. Like she needed reminding that the whole team had seen Josh put her in her place.
He rolled down his window. Stared at her bike. “Tire’s toast,” he said. “You won’t be able to fix that.”
“Thanks. Good to know.”
He rolled his eyes, got out of the truck, put her bike in the back. “Get in.”
After riding in silence for a while, Cam broke it. “I saw Josh ream you out earlier. Or, from another perspective”—he shot her a quick smile—“you reaming him out.”
Sometimes having no filter was a bad thing. “Not my smartest move.”
He shrugged. “Easton Prep’s a hard crowd.” He glanced across to make sure she was listening. “It was fun. Mixing things up.”
Yeah. She’d thought so. Not as fun as rowing, but…
She pointed out her house and Cam eased the truck into the drive.
“Everyone’s going to the Dock Party tonight,” Cam said as she unbuckled her seat belt.
Yeah, no. Partying anywhere near Liam or, god forbid, Josh, was not going to happen. She’d be better off breaking into the boathouse again and getting expelled. “I heard.”
“You should go. Seriously.”
“I’ll think about it.” She got her backpack and helmet from the footwell and opened the door.
“I have an extra wristband,” Cam said, all nonchalant, like he didn’t care one way or another if she showed up, then he took her phone out of her backpack’s side pocket, held it up to her face to unlock it, and started tapping. “Text me if you want it.”
Hmm. Maybe not so nonchalant after all. Did he… like her?
“Go on, git.” Cam shooed her out of the cab. “I’ve got things to do.”
She snorted. Boys were so annoying. Cute. Some of them. But mostly annoying. Even when they put their numbers in your phone and pretended they didn’t care if you met them at a party. Which, weirdly, made her want to go.
Her mom offered to drive her because she had gone out and gotten herself a new job starting with a shift in the evening.
Well. An old job. The one she’d done a million years ago at The Crab Shack when she’d lived here.
A night at home licking her wounds sounded better, so she declined.
But once she was on her own, it wasn’t better.
So she did what every girl in a similar quandary did in her position. Phoned a friend. Her only friend. But still.
Juliet promptly invited herself over, said she’d drive Teagan to the party, then dove into her closet to pick a suitable outfit. “Cam might be a FAID,” Juliet said, giving yet another dress the side-eye. “But he deserves better than this.”
Juliet was insanely rich but, weirdly, not at all snobby. She didn’t say a word about the house, which was definitely more shabby than chic despite her mom’s best efforts.
“How about this one?” Juliet asked, holding up a tiny form-fitting dress Teagan never would have picked for a date she wanted to go on let alone a meh invitation to use Cam’s extra wristband.
Before Teagan could say absolutely not, Juliet’s phone announced, “You have a message.”
“Play,” Juliet instructed.
“Hey, guuurl…” purred the instantly recognizable voice of Kesha. “Just calling to say hi.”
“Is that…” gasped Teagan.
Juliet gave her a pat on the cheek. “No. Well. It is, but—” She huffed out a sigh. “When my parents have bad news, they send it by celebrity video messenger. They think it softens the blow.”
“I heard from your mom that it’s your birthday—” said the message.
Teagan shot her a look. Why hadn’t she said? Juliet rolled her eyes, pointed at the phone.
“Just wanted to reach out and wish you a happy birthday. Now, listen. She’s not going to be able to visit like she said, but she promises—”
Juliet ended the video.
“Harsh,” Teagan said, then, “Happy birthday?” She took the teeny dress Juliet was holding out to her. It was the least she could do.
Juliet gave her a breezy, doesn’t-matter smile. “They love that I’m at boarding school thirty-five hundred miles away. I’m easier to forget that way. But enough melodrama. Hair. You have lots of it. It must be dealt with.”
Juliet dispatched her to find a curling iron. It wasn’t anywhere obvious, so she went to her mom’s bedroom where she’d stashed a load of boxes in her closet. She took a couple out, then froze. What was her dad’s sports duffel doing here?
She sat down and warily pulled it close, taking a deep breath before opening it.
There were a couple of his shirts. Weird.
Maybe her mom was secretly smelling them at night like people did in the movies after someone had died.
In a way, he kind of had. He wasn’t the man she thought he was a year ago.
The rest of the stuff was a mishmash. Mementos from holidays, a couple of baseball caps, one of her trophies that he used to keep in his office.
An engraved watch. Unfortunately, it couldn’t turn back time and make things better again.
She zipped up the duffel, put it back in the closet, and broke the bad news to Juliet.
No curling iron. They’d need a plan B. One that would get her to the party and into her new life so she could forget about the old one as soon as possible.
She stomped out just as Juliet came out of the bathroom, beaming. “Look what I found!”
The curling iron. Right where it was supposed to be.
Juliet drove them to the port in her bright orange sports car. As they climbed out, Cam emerged from the crowd and jogged over. “Hey! Glad you made it.”
“Go on.” Juliet nudged her forward. “I’ll catch you later.”
“Aren’t you coming?”
“Nope. Not my scene. I’ll be back. Text if you don’t want me to. Laters.”
“Here’s your wristband.” Cam handed it to Teagan, then turned to go.
What the—
He had invited her, right?
Yes, idiot. But not as his date.
Awesome. Could this day suck any more than it already did?
“Cool. Cool, cool.” So cool. “Love going to a party by myself when I don’t know anyone.”
Cam looked over at the massive waterside marquee where a DJ was playing to a large crowd, then back at her. She must’ve looked like the last dog at the pound because he tipped his head for her to follow him. “C’mon. Let’s get you a drink.”
He did one better than that. He agreed to play beer pong with her. Beer pong with Teagan rules. Get one in, the other person drinks or answers a question.
“Are you sure?” Cam asked when she’d explained how it worked. “I’m a beer pong shark.” He threw the first ball. “I heard you row. Any good?”
“Southwest Junior Champion. I have my eye set on Stanford.”
He brightened. “Stanford? One of their scouts gave me his card at the regatta last year.”
Way too easily she pictured them both in Stanford’s colors: cardinal and white, hand-in-hand, triumphantly lifting their respective trophies in the air.
“I’m hoping for U-Dub.”
“The University of Washington?”
“Yeah.” He threw a Ping-Pong. Nailed it. “Why’d you pick Stanford?”
“My dad rowed for them. I always thought I’d go there, too.” She’d thought a lot of things. “But then we moved here.”
Another Ping-Pong ball plopped into a beer cup. “Why?”
Teagan hesitated… She didn’t want Cam to judge her because of the bad things her father had done.
She liked him—and wanted him to like her.
Maybe once she got to know Cam better she could trust him with the truth.
But for now it was safer to make something up.
“Umm… my dad. Yeah, he passed away. We needed a change.” She swiftly threw a Ping-Pong ball, and mercifully, it plopped into a cup. “What about you? Why the U-Dub?”
“They’re a division-one crew team, which would put me on an Olympic track. They’ve also got a really great engineering program.”
Teagan threw another ball. Crushed it. “You want to be an Olympian and an engineer?” Impressive.
Cam ducked his head, shot her a shy smile. “I’d be the first one in my family to go to college.” He shot a panicked look around them to see if anyone heard. “Don’t tell anyone.”
She wouldn’t. She knew better than anyone the dread of being found out. His secret was safe with her.