Josh
Numb was one way to describe how he was feeling. His body shook from too much cortisol flooding his system, telling him what he already knew: game over.
He’d had one thing to do today and had failed.
Bad heart.
Bad oar.
Not quite as lucky as Cam thought he was.
The guys looked shell-shocked. Out of their racing gear, they slumped around the boathouse in sweats, looking like their world had ended. His really had.
He’d tried calling his dad about a hundred times. Wouldn’t pick up.
He was toast. Tephra.
“Okay, guys,” Coach Hayden said, striding in. “I know this isn’t how we wanted this to end, but sometimes it’s just not your day. But look, the regatta’s over. Tomorrow we start fresh.”
“We should’ve had that race…” Josh started, hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud.
“It’s not end of days yet, okay?” Coach reassured them.
“We still have a chance at making the Haverford Cup. We just have to wait for the other teams’ results to come in.
” The guys perked up a bit at this. Josh was glad there was someone in the room who could pull their plunging spirits out of the abyss.
“You’ve all been working hard. Making strides throughout the season.
So have a good time tonight. You’ve earned it.
” Coach gave them a warning look. “I don’t want to know what you’re planning—but if anyone needs bailing out? Don’t call me!”
Half-hearted laughter echoed against the ceiling; then Coach was out of there, leaving Josh to face the wolf pack.
“Man,” Quaid said, bummed versus angry. “If our oar didn’t break, we could’ve been on that podium.”
“It was a fluke,” Josh said, rubbing his head in dismay. “It happens.”
“You know what else happens?” Noah called from behind the changing room door. He burst through it with a flourish. “The AFTER-PARTY!”
The boys cheered, desperate to put their troubles behind them.
Perry pointed at the cape Noah was wearing. “Oh shit! Are we seeing Bad Bunny?”
“Indeed.” Noah gave them a mysterious smile. “We will be in the proximity of something very bad.”
Quaid jumped out of his seat. “Let’s get bad, baby!”
“We will,” Noah assured them. “Because tonight’s event…”
The guys leaned forward in anticipation.
“Is a murder mystery!”
They fell back with a chorus of groans. Not the night of raving they’d been hoping for.
Poor guy. This might be the first time Josh could relate to Noah. Putting everything you had into making people you cared about happy, only to disappoint at the first hurdle.
Noah, to his surprise, was undaunted. He put on a fake English accent and began to set the scene. “Our tale begins in an era marked by Greed and Rebellion. America’s moral compass, once steady, now spins recklessly out of control! Meaning… we’re going to the Roaring Twenties!”
He flung off his cloak to reveal a surprisingly dapper three-piece suit complete with a pocket watch. The guy had definitely been born in the wrong era.
“Now,” Noah continued, “we’ve all read The Great Gatsby.”
“We did?” Quaid asked.
Noah dropped character. “It was on last year’s curriculum.” He regrouped, began again. “Most of us have read The Great Gatsby, set in the prohibition era when all alcohol was forbidden.”
“Wait.” Perry went into a panic. “Is this a dry party?”
He received a classic Noah look. The kind that said, You have the facts, catch up. “Obviously.”
More groans. And still Noah plowed on. Props.
“The 1920s also gave birth to jazz and cabaret!”
Ryder groaned. “A friggin’ murder mystery.”
“A dry murder mystery,” Baloo reminded him.
Perry was in despair. “Why do you hate us, Noah?”
“Hey!” Teagan glared at them. “C’mon. Noah spent a lot of time planning this party. Go ahead, Noah.”
Noah cleared his throat, adjusted his tie, and put the bad English accent back on.
“A heinous crime occurred in this opulent mansion. The murder of a reclusive dowager duchess. The weapon? An oyster shucker. The motive? Her priceless ruby necklace—stolen! You will find your characters and costumes in your changing room cubbies. Disperse!”
The guys pushed themselves up with absolutely no enthusiasm. Josh figured he might as well try his dad again.
Voicemail.
“Hey, Dad. Trying you again ’cause I haven’t heard back from the other messages I left. I know the race didn’t go the way we wanted. Needed,” he corrected. “Sorry I let you down.”
His dad probably wouldn’t even listen to the messages.
Had probably disowned him. Maybe dressing up and pretending to be whatever character Noah had assigned him was a good thing.
A few hours of being someone else. Unless, the way his life was going these days, he ended up being revealed as the baddie.