Teagan
She’d had to wash her hair three times to get the stench of algae out of her hair, but the look on Josh’s face when she’d thrown the bucket of ice on him had been worth it. It was just a shame he’d immediately filled it with lake water to throw back at her.
Boys were idiots.
Coach hadn’t just shouted at Josh and Ryder, though.
He’d yelled at all three of them. Sent them home saying he didn’t want to see them again until they had the grace to act like athletes instead of children.
Errr, hello! She had been. Not to mention the only one brave enough to intervene.
She’d been steaming. To the point she’d seriously considered quitting the team and staying home instead of participating in the child endangerment “challenge” the school was disguising as an opportunity to “exceed their limits.”
The Iron Crucible?
Where did they come up with that?
She’d said as much to Cam. He’d gone quiet, those brown eyes of his looking into hers without giving anything away. “Too bad,” he’d said. “You’re miles better than our last cox.”
Her resolve turned to mush.
Her mom had sealed the deal. After taking Juliet’s advice, she’d turned the parents’ night reception around.
Dazzling the other moms with the juicy details about the dire straits Dad had left them in.
One was so impressed she’d hired Ella to be the party planner for their son’s birthday.
The fee? More than enough to pay Teagan’s tuition.
So here she was at the starting line of the Iron Crucible, listening with increasing horror as Principal Cabrera consigned her student body to certain death.
“The course is comprised of seven obstacles, each separated by a two-mile run. You must use your digital wristband at each obstacle to mark your progress.”
Teagan gave hers a pat. “It’s just you and me out there, little buddy.” Thank god the Crucible didn’t have anything to do with rowing. She needed a break from all that drama.
“At the end of the course lies the Easton Bell, crafted by our forefathers at the Whitechapel Bell Foundry. Those of you who paid attention in history class will know this was the same foundry that gave birth to the Liberty Bell. It can only be rung by those who finish.” She gave the participants a look Teagan presumed was supposed to be inspirational.
“It has been silent for six years,” Cabrera continued.
“Who among you will test the limits of your physical stamina and harness that anguish into a will to succeed? Who among you will ring that bell?”
Principal Cabrera had clearly been expecting cheers, but her words were met with deathly silence. Some students had already slunk away.
Juliet, who had appointed herself Teagan’s personal cheerleader, was there at the starting line. “Good luck,” she said. “I’ll see you at the end.”
“Yeah,” Teagan laughed. “Or look for the vultures circling over my dead body.”
The participants were gathering into groups. Teagan drifted over to the rowing crew, who were gathering around Coach Hayden. Coach was smiling, unlike yesterday, but there was a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Good morning, team. I hope we’ve put yesterday’s shenanigans behind us?” They clearly hadn’t. Josh and Ryder were standing far away from each other, exuding hate vibes, refusing to mix, like oil and water. The rest of the team formed a loose shield between them.
“I’ve come up with a way to resolve the stroke seat issue once and for all,” Coach announced.
This got everyone’s attention.
“Whoever gets the farthest… and the best time… wins the seat.”
Cam caught Teagan’s eye, clearly intrigued by what they were hearing.
Coach was serious. “No cheating. No fighting. This is you proving to me that you deserve that seat.”
Behind her, Crabcatcher squeaked, “I don’t want the seat. Does that mean I don’t have to do the Iron Crucible?”
It did not.
Teagan didn’t want stroke seat, but she had something to prove today, too.
That she deserved her place on the team, and that she was strong enough to lead them.
So, screw it, she was going all out. Her life had been pure chaos since her dad had left, and this would be the perfect way to rechannel the focus and drive that had caught the Stanford scout’s eye.
She had always liked a challenge. Bring it on.