Teagan
“Baloo,” she teased, “you’re going to tip the boat if you keep checking out the competition.
All of you. Eyes on me. They don’t exist, okay?
None of them do. We’ve got staggered starts, remember?
The only boat we’re concerned about is ours.
It’s just you, me, and six thousand meters. We’ll fly through it.”
“Like an eagle?” Crabcatcher asked.
“Exactly. We’ll keep the turns tight, to save your legs for the final sprint at the finish line.”
Ryder tipped his reflective sunglasses down his nose. “You look nervous, Coxie.”
He didn’t know the half of it.
“It’s a big one for me,” she said.
“Not just you,” said Ryder. “There are scouts onshore. Ones I want to impress. You got this?”
The horn sounded for Westvale to take their place at the starting line, then again to mark the start of their race. It was Easton’s turn next.
“Looks like we’re about to find out.”
“Aaaaand row!”
The second the starter horn sounded, Teagan felt a switch flick inside her.
Like her body knew this was what she’d been training for.
Why she’d pushed herself so hard at the Iron Crucible and at every practice since.
The team was feeling it, too. That magic charge of grit and determination trained into this one race.
Win or lose. They’d walk away with their heads held high.
“That’s it, guys! Strong start. Burn those nerves! Then we’ll lock it in at twenty-eight, all right?”
Twenty-eight solid strokes per minute. It was at the high end of the push pace, but she knew they had it in them.
They’d have to shift down for turns, negotiate a bridge, and, as importantly, hold on to a reserve of energy for the final, critical sprint that would send their boat soaring across the finish line.
The team was pure focus. Rowing hard. United.
Their oars hitting the water as one, propelling them forward with a synchronicity of movement that felt electric.
She felt the charge, channeled it into control.
Anything beyond a light touch on the rudder would spell disaster.
Letting the team down today was out of the question.
What happened once they crossed the finish line was out of her control. But this wasn’t.
Four kilometers in they’d aced the turns, nailed the straight runs. Now they were coming up to the bridge. It was a narrow one. Gauging the speed and angle at which they approached was her job. One bad call and it would be game over.
“Port. Pressure! That’s right, guys. Ryder, set us up for the bridge pace. Stay clean. Long.” He gave her a nod. He had this.
“Shit!” Teagan had slightly oversteered. The boat veered in response. They were heading straight for the bridge.
“Coxie!” Ryder shouted.
“Too much. My bad. Starboard!”
The command fell to Cam to execute. He dug in, pulled the boat straight.
“Good job, Cam. All of you. Great work, guys. We’ve got the line now. Don’t change a thing for three—twooo—ooooooooone.” And they were through.
“Awesome job. Push away!” She was beaming. Two months ago—two weeks ago even—this would’ve ended in disaster. “Lock it back in at twenty-eight.”
They were back in clear water.
“Guys. Westvale’s just ahead. We can close the gap. Are you with me? Should we bury them?”
Grunts of approval were all the answer she needed. She scanned the crew, double-checking everyone was up for it.
She clocked one determined face after another until she hit Crabcatcher’s. He was struggling. If he cracked now, she knew he wouldn’t survive the fallout. Not the crew’s. They’d be disappointed, but they wouldn’t make him pay. It was the punishment he’d heap on himself she was worried about.
This was one of those moments her dad had trained her for. When your body had decided it had given everything it had to give and you had to convince yourself to override it. Find a way to push through and past the pain.
“You’ve got this, guys,” she assured them. “We’ve got this. I never wanted to be on a team until I was on your team. And that’s saying something seeing as I’ve seen you all naked.”
They were concentrating too hard to laugh, but she could see what she was really trying to tell them take hold.
She was saying she cared. That she believed in them.
Individually and as a unit. “Who’re you pulling for?
” she called out. “For the engine room that never quits! Tried and true, our Baloo!”
She won a smile, a feat given the levels of energy he was pouring into each meter they were putting behind them to push past Westvale.
“That’s right, boys. We’re rowing for Ryder the driver!
For Cam, the best starboard man! For Josh, even though he’s posh!
For Quaid, all power with his blade! For Noah!
Ummm… what rhymes with Noah? Book smarts and kinda looks like Jason Momoa?
” They were getting so close now. So close.
“We’re rowing for Perry’s panache. And for the heart and soul of this team…
Crabcatcher! Chris. We are rowing for Chris. ”
Crabby’s face lit up when she used his real name, as if she’d just plugged him in. His oar moved in sync with the rest of the team’s. This was for him, really. If they hadn’t met for that run? Her head might not’ve been where it belonged. Right here. With the Easton Eagles.
“brING IT IN!” she shouted, exhilarated as the rowers pushed the boat to the top of their sprint speed. The finish line wasn’t far off. She could see it now. She could also see Westvale rowing as if their lives depended on it. Spurred, no doubt, by their approach.
Westvale crossed first. Easton right behind them.
Staggered starts meant no one knew who had won, but right now? Teagan felt like a winner.
They would’ve celebrated if they’d had any energy left. But it was pretty much all the guys could do to get the boat up and out of the water and onto the rack.
They had collapsed on a patch of grass by the river, draining bottles of electrolyte drinks as they watched the rest of the teams cross the line.
Once everyone’s times had been logged, the regatta’s website would be updated with finishing times: first to last.
Coach fished Teagan’s phone out of the wet bag.
He’d had his game face on as they finished, keeping it neutral as he helped them stow the oars and secure the boat before heading up to the judge’s station with the other coaches.
But Teagan could tell he was proud of them. There was some swagger in his stride.
Teagan finished her drink, then refreshed the website for the thousandth time. She blinked a few times to make sure she was reading the results right. “Oh my god.”
“What?” Ryder sat bolt upright. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “We won, guys. We WON!”
There was a moment of stunned silence, then a deafening roar of whoops. They’d done it. They’d actually done it.
Crabcatcher covered his head, dodging back slaps and shoulder punches to get to her. “Well done, Coxie.”
“You too, Crabby. I knew you could do it.”
“I knew you could, too.”
He grinned at her, then put his fingers in his mouth and whistled an ear-piercing noise that brought the team to attention. “Guys? There’s one rowing tradition Teagan might not know about.”
She looked around as they started to laugh and circle around her.
“Yup,” Baloo beamed. “Someone’s definitely looking a little too dry.”
There was no way she could escape. And honestly? As they swung her by her hands and feet and threw her into the river, there was no place she’d rather be and no one she’d rather be with.