CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ROWAN
The room was too small for how many people were in it.
That was the first thing I noticed.
Not Mason.
Not Caleb.
Not even Coach’s voice cutting through the low hum of the film starting up.
Just space.
Or the lack of it.
Rowan Hayes, sitting front row, notebook open even though I barely knew what I was writing yet.
I told myself I wasn’t going to look back.
I didn’t.
At least not directly.
But I could feel it anyway.
That awareness again.
Like someone had placed attention in the room and I was standing too close to it.
Caleb sat one row behind me.
Mason was somewhere further back.
I knew where anyway.
That was becoming a problem.
Coach clicked the remote.
Film started.
The lights dimmed just enough to make everything feel closer than it should’ve been.
Too close.
“Focus on spacing here,” Coach said. “Reed, you drift off-ball again.”
Mason.
Even without turning, I knew he’d moved slightly in his seat.
Small shift.
But it changed the air anyway.
I wrote something down.
Didn’t read it later.
Didn’t need to.
Caleb leaned forward slightly behind me. “You’re quiet.”
“I’m listening.”
“You always this serious during film?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then he chuckled softly. “Noted.”
I didn’t respond.
Because I could feel it again.
Not eyes.
Presence.
The clip paused.
Coach rewound.
“Watch this,” he said. “This is where you lose control of tempo.”
The screen flickered back.
I wasn’t looking at it properly anymore.
Because I could hear Mason breathe.
Not clearly.
Just enough.
Too close for a room like this.
Caleb shifted behind me again, his knee lightly brushing the back of my chair as he leaned.
Normal.
Accidental.
Probably.
But I was suddenly aware of everything at once.
And that was new.
Coach spoke again, but his voice blurred slightly.
Then—
chair movement.
Behind me.
Not loud.
Just enough to register.
Mason had stood.
Or shifted.
I didn’t turn.
I refused.
Then the room tightened in a different way.
Because someone had moved past the row.
Not Caleb.
Not Coach.
Mason.
I felt it before I saw it.
That was the worst part.
He stopped near the aisle beside my row.
Not fully blocking it.
Just there.
Close enough that I could feel his presence without turning my head.
Too close.
The film kept playing.
Coach kept talking.
But the space between us didn’t belong to them anymore.
It belonged to the fact that neither of us was moving.
Caleb leaned forward slightly again.
“Rowan,” he whispered. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
But my voice came out quieter than I meant.
Because Mason was still there.
Not sitting.
Not leaving.
Just… paused.
Like he’d stopped without deciding why.
And I hated that I noticed that too.
Mason
I didn’t know why I stopped.
That was the honest answer.
I just did.
Rowan was right there.
One row down.
Not even turned.
Not acknowledging anything behind her.
Caleb leaning too close.
Too familiar.
Too comfortable.
And I stayed standing in the aisle like an idiot.
Jace hissed from my seat. “Sit down.”
“I am.”
“You’re literally standing in the aisle like a problem.”
I didn’t move.
Because moving meant going back.
And going back meant pretending I hadn’t noticed.
But I had.
All of it.
Caleb’s knee against her chair.
Her hand writing something she wasn’t reading.
The way she didn’t look back even once.
That last part was what irritated me.
Not attention.
Absence of reaction.
Coach paused the film again.
“Reed,” he called without turning. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
I wasn’t.
I finally sat down.
But I didn’t look away.
That was worse.
Because now I was too aware of how close everything felt.
Too aware of her.
And how she wasn’t aware of me at all.
Rowan
The air changed when he sat down again.
I don’t know how I knew.
I just did.
Like the room had reset itself around a new point of tension.
Caleb leaned back slightly. “This is kind of intense for film, right?”
“Normal,” I said.
But it wasn’t.
Not anymore.
Because I could feel Mason again.
Not watching.
Not openly.
Just there.
And that difference mattered.
Coach rewound again.
“Watch spacing,” he repeated.
But I wasn’t watching spacing.
I was aware of the fact that I hadn’t turned around once.
And neither had he.
That should’ve meant nothing.
It didn’t.
Mason
She still hadn’t turned.
That was the part that stayed with me.
Not Caleb.
Not Coach.
Not even the film.
Just her sitting there like she didn’t need to check the room to know it was there.
Like I wasn’t part of it.
I leaned forward slightly without thinking.
Jace noticed immediately. “Don’t do it.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You are absolutely about to do something stupid.”
I didn’t answer.
Because I already knew I was too aware.
Of her.
Of him.
Of the space not being space anymore.
Coach stood up.
“Break,” he said. “Five minutes.”
Lights came up slightly.
Noise returned.
Movement.
Everything normal again.
Except nothing felt normal anymore.
Rowan finally shifted in her seat.
Just slightly.
Not turning.
But adjusting.
And that tiny movement hit harder than it should’ve.
Because it meant she was still here.
Still close.
Still in reach.
And I didn’t know why that mattered this much yet.
But it did.