Teagan Three Weeks Later
TEAGAN
Three Weeks Later
Teagan pinned the final sheet of today’s crew session to the board.
Coach Hayden gave it a scan. “New warm-up for today?”
“Yeah.” These past few weeks, she had poured herself into her new role.
Things had improved between her and the crew, but they were far from perfect.
Being relegated to a separate group chat from the rest of the crew, for example.
Whatever. She was their cox, they mostly listened to her now, and, one way or another, she’d get them in shape for the regatta against Westvale—Easton’s number one rival.
“I thought we’d do some pick drills on the ergs.
It’s always good to go back to the basics, right?
Break down the strokes. Finesse sequences, rhythm.
We need to fine-tune our timing issues.”
Coach nodded approvingly. “How’s Ryder been holding up in stroke position?”
“Good,” she said honestly. “But he knows it. I’m keeping an eye on him.”
Hayden gave her shoulder a clap. “You’ve already made good progress with them these past few weeks. Keep it going and you just might whip them into shape for our first competition.”
Teagan grinned. She’d been working her butt off. Coach Hayden wasn’t exactly singing her praises, but reading between the lines? She was acing it.
“One thing,” Coach said, stopping on his way out and turning back. “Where are they?”
Teagan’s eyes shot to the clock. It was fifteen minutes after practice was meant to start. Her stomach sank as she looked back at Coach Hayden and realized he’d known this all along.
She silent-screamed at the ceiling. She’d been doing that a lot since she’d started at Easton. She’d hoped winning the Iron Crucible would be enough to get the guys to consider her part of the team. She’d obviously been deluding herself.
Maybe she was more like her mom than she’d thought.
They found them twenty minutes later.
In detention.
“I’m sorry, Coach. Like, bottom of my heart sorry.” Quaid, the reason the Easton Eagles were confined to the library, hung his head like a forlorn, overgrown hound dog puppy. “I know I was wrong, and I swear I won’t do it again.”
As miserable as he looked, Quaid’s apology sounded memorized. As if he’d said those exact same words, in the exact same order, a million times before.
No surprise, really. The oversized goofball was not only one of the team’s powerhouses, he was also their resident prankster. It was like he couldn’t help it. He saw an opportunity? He took it. Teagan had no doubt he’d be saying the same words again. And again. And again.
Which sucked. He always gave a hundred percent at practice and was almost as strong as Baloo. In other words, they needed him on the team.
“You’re running out of lives, Quaid,” Coach warned. “I pled your case, but Principal Cabrera, understandably, isn’t having it. You have one more life. You waste it on doing something as stupid as turning Ethan’s car into a loaded fries container again? You’re out.”
Quaid’s head shot up. “What? Expelled?”
“Yes.”
All of them felt the shock waves of the response. Answers didn’t get blunter than that.
“What possessed you to prank Principal Cabrera’s grandson?” Coach asked.
A couple of the guys sniggered.
Bad idea. Coach reeled on them. “You think it’s funny? Sitting in here writing apology essays when you’re meant to be on the water getting ready for a regatta? A regatta I can tell you right now you won’t win.”
From that angle? No. They did not think it was funny.
Coach wasn’t done with them, though. “Teagan, here, has been working her butt off.”
Crap. She didn’t need the crew thinking she was Coach’s pet. She inched herself behind him as his tirade continued.
“She had a fantastic set of drills all lined up for today and you let her down. Let yourselves down. I never thought I’d have to remind you that a team shows up for one another.”
Quaid started to protest, but Teagan poked her head out and ran a finger along her neck. Not worth it.
“It’s like you don’t care,” Coach Hayden continued. “I know you’re capable of winning, but I’m beginning to wonder if you’re more interested in destroying things than building something together.”
Josh and Ryder exchanged looks. They knew a callout when they heard one.
“Not one of you has shown me your best today. Apart from Teagan, who, for one, bothered to show up.”
A smattering of feeble protests filled the room, dying out when Coach’s anger shifted to disappointment. Which was much, much worse.
“I pull every string I can for you boys. But between actively courting expulsion, fist fights, and bullying—”
“I wasn’t bullying—” Quaid started.
“Write your essays,” Coach said, then left the room.
“I wasn’t bullying,” Quaid said again, once the door had clicked shut.
Teagan had no idea if it was true, but the one thing she did know? It was down to her to keep him on the straight and narrow from here on out. Yet another Mission Impossible to add to her list.