CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
ROWAN
I knew something was off the second I walked into the media lab.
It wasn’t loud.
It was worse than loud.
It was focused.
Everyone was hunched over laptops like their entire futures depended on correcting one sentence at a time.
Mia spotted me immediately. “You look like you didn’t sleep.”
“I did,” I lied.
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not convincing.”
Professor Bennett clapped once at the front of the room.
“All right,” she said. “Final shortlist for New York internships will be posted in one week.”
The room went still.
Not quiet.
Still.
Like everyone forgot how to breathe properly.
My stomach tightened without permission.
One week.
That was it.
Bennett continued, “If you’re not ready to defend your portfolio under pressure, you will not survive this placement.”
Then she looked directly at me.
Not everyone.
Me.
“You especially, Rowan.”
My throat went dry.
“Don’t mistake talent for security.”
That hit harder than it should’ve.
Because I wasn’t thinking about talent.
I was thinking about Mason.
Which was objectively insane.
MASON
Coach made us run conditioning until someone threw up.
No warning.
Just whistle.
“Go.”
And suddenly it was full-court suicides until legs gave out and pride disappeared.
Andre bent over his knees after the third set. “This is illegal.”
“It’s not,” Luca said, breathing hard. “It just feels like it is.”
Coach didn’t even blink.
I pushed through another sprint, ignoring the burn in my lungs.
My phone was in my bag.
I could feel it buzzing between sets.
I didn’t check it.
That was new.
That was also probably stupid.
Coach finally called us in.
Nobody spoke.
Even Luca didn’t joke.
Coach looked around the gym slowly.
“This is what New York looks like,” he said.
That got everyone’s attention immediately.
“You think scouts care about your highlights? They care about pressure.”
His eyes landed on me again.
Of course they did.
“You break under pressure,” he added. “You don’t get invited back.”
Silence.
Then:
“Again.”
ROWAN
After class, Mia grabbed my arm before I could escape.
“You’re spiraling,” she said.
“I’m not.”
“You are thinking too hard.”
“That’s not spiraling.”
“That is literally spiraling.”
We walked across campus in the cold air.
Everyone was talking about New York now.
Like it was a rumor that had become real too fast.
Mia bumped my shoulder lightly. “You’ll get in.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“Because you’re annoying and good at your job,” she said simply.
That made me laugh despite myself.
Then my phone buzzed.
Mason.
Mason:
You busy?
I slowed slightly.
Rowan:
Always.
Mason:
Coach is losing his mind today.
That felt… familiar.
Too familiar.
Rowan:
That sounds like his natural state.
Three dots.
Stopped.
Started again.
Mason:
He mentioned NYC again.
My stomach tightened slightly.
Right.
Basketball showcase.
Pressure rising.
Same city as my internship.
Different worlds.
Same deadline feeling.
MASON
I sat alone in the empty gym after practice.
Everyone else had left.
Even Luca.
Coach was in his office.
The silence was loud.
My phone was in my hand now.
Finally.
Rowan had replied.
Rowan:
NYC is apparently the universal stress location.
I leaned back against the bleachers.
Yeah.
That sounded about right.
Mason:
You find out about internships yet?
Typing bubbles.
Stopped.
Long pause.
Rowan:
Not yet.
That shouldn’t have mattered.
But it did.
Because I knew what came with “not yet.”
Uncertainty.
Waiting.
Pressure.
Just like me.
ROWAN
I stared at my screen longer than I meant to.
Mason didn’t usually ask about things like that.
Not directly.
It felt… intentional.
Rowan:
Why?
Immediate reply.
Mason:
Just wondering if we’re both about to ruin our lives in the same city.
That made me snort out loud.
Mia looked over. “What?”
“Nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing.
Because suddenly NYC didn’t feel like an abstract idea anymore.
It felt like overlap.
Dangerous overlap.
MASON
Coach finally came out of his office.
He didn’t look surprised to see me still there.
“You’re thinking too much again,” he said.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
I exhaled slowly.
“I’m not losing it,” I said.
Coach nodded once.
“I know.”
That surprised me.
Then:
“You’re just carrying too much at once.”
He didn’t say what.
He didn’t need to.
Basketball.
Pressure.
Father.
I added something silently.
Rowan.
Coach sat down beside me on the bench.
“That girl,” he said finally.
Of course.
“She a distraction or a stabilizer?”
I didn’t answer immediately.
Because I didn’t know.
Not fully.
“She’s…” I started.
Stopped.
Then tried again.
“She’s not noise.”
Coach nodded slowly like that told him everything he needed.
“That’s dangerous then.”
“Why?”
“Because things that aren’t noise tend to matter.”
That sentence stayed longer than I liked.
ROWAN
Serena was waiting for me outside my building when I got home.
Which meant she was either bored or suspicious.
Or both.
“You didn’t answer my texts,” she said immediately.
“I was working.”
“You were thinking.”
“That’s also work.”
She followed me inside without asking.
“New York shortlist comes out soon,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“You nervous?”
I paused.
Then honestly:
“Yes.”
That surprised even me a little.
Serena nodded like she expected that answer.
Then her phone buzzed.
She looked down and smirked.
“Oh.”
“What.”
“Guess who just posted a gym story looking like he’s about to fight capitalism.”
I already knew.
Still checked.
Mason.
Sweaty gym clip.
Basketball bouncing.
Coach shouting faintly in the background.
And him looking—
focused.
Not distracted.
For once.
I stared at it longer than I should’ve.
Serena leaned over my shoulder. “You’re in it deep.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
I didn’t answer.
Because my phone buzzed again.
Mason.
Mason:
If I get NYC invited and you don’t, that’s going to be annoying.
I stared at it.
Then smiled slightly.
Rowan:
I’ll try not to take it personally.
Mason:
Good.
Then:
Mason:
Because I’m not planning on losing.
That sounded like him again.
Focused.
Sharp.
Alive.
And for the first time all day—
so did I.