CHAPTER FIFTY
MASON
Coach posted the NYC shortlist on the locker room wall like it was nothing.
Like it wasn’t going to ruin someone’s week.
Or mine.
Guys crowded around it immediately.
Andre shoved past Luca. “If I’m not on this list, I’m transferring.”
“You’re not transferring,” Luca said. “You’re broke.”
“Still transferring.”
I didn’t move at first.
Just stood near my locker, towel draped over my shoulders, staring at the wall like it might rearrange itself if I waited long enough.
Luca noticed.
“Go look,” he said.
“I will.”
“You’re not going to.”
That annoyed me enough to move.
I walked over.
Names.
Ten of them.
My eyes scanned before I could stop myself.
And there it was.
REED, MASON.
I didn’t react immediately.
Which was probably worse.
Andre slapped my shoulder hard. “You made it, man!”
Jace whooped from behind. “Let’s goooo!”
Luca just looked at me.
Not surprised.
Just… aware.
Coach called out from the office door, “Don’t celebrate like you’ve done anything yet.”
That killed the noise slightly.
Because he was right.
NYC wasn’t the win.
It was the beginning of the test.
ROWAN
Bennett didn’t even smile when she handed out the email notifications.
That was how you knew it was serious.
People opened their phones at the same time anyway.
Like a group reflex.
Mia grabbed my arm before I even looked.
“Don’t panic,” she said immediately.
“I’m not panicking.”
“You are absolutely panicking.”
“I’m reading.”
My email loaded.
For a second, I didn’t move.
Then:
SELECTED – NEW YORK MEDIA INTERNSHIP PROGRAM
My stomach dropped slightly before catching itself.
Mia screamed.
Not metaphorically.
Actually screamed.
“Oh my GOD!”
The entire lab turned.
Bennett didn’t even react.
Just nodded once like she’d already known.
“Congratulations,” she said calmly.
That was it.
No celebration.
Just reality shifting slightly.
Mia hugged me immediately. “You did it!”
“I did it,” I repeated, still processing.
But my brain wasn’t fully there.
Because somewhere in the back of it—
New York wasn’t just mine anymore.
MASON
Practice after the announcement felt different.
Louder.
Looser.
Guys were hyped now.
Coach wasn’t.
“Same rules,” he said. “You haven’t earned anything yet.”
That shut most of them up.
We started scrimmage.
First play, I drove baseline and finished clean.
Second play, assist.
Third, defensive stop.
I felt it immediately.
Flow.
Real flow.
Luca noticed too.
“There he is,” he muttered as we ran back.
I didn’t respond.
Didn’t need to.
Coach watched from the sideline longer than usual.
I could feel his attention tracking every movement now.
Not disappointment.
Evaluation.
That was better.
And worse.
My phone buzzed in my bag during a break.
I ignored it.
Then again.
Ignored.
Then again.
I finally checked after practice ended.
Rowan.
Rowan:
I got it.
I stared at the message longer than I should’ve.
Then:
Mason:
NYC?
Rowan:
Yes.
Something shifted.
Not big.
Just alignment.
Like a line connecting two separate dots.
ROWAN
He didn’t reply for a full minute.
Which was new.
Then:
Mason:
Good.
I frowned slightly.
Rowan:
That’s it?
Three dots.
Stopped.
Started again.
Mason:
Yeah.
Mason:
That’s good.
I stared at the screen.
That was the same word he used when I got home safely.
Different situation.
Same instinct.
My phone buzzed again.
Mason:
We’re both going.
That should’ve been obvious.
But it didn’t feel like it.
It felt like confirmation.
Like something was finally locking into place.
MASON
Luca leaned against the lockers after practice.
“So,” he said casually. “NYC.”
“Yeah.”
“You happy?”
I thought about it.
Basketball. Pressure. Coach. My father.
Rowan.
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted.
That surprised him.
“You’re allowed to not know things,” he said.
“Since when?”
“Since always. You just ignore that policy.”
Fair.
My phone buzzed again.
Rowan.
Rowan:
We should probably pretend we’re normal in New York.
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Mason:
We’re not normal.
Rowan:
That’s what I’m worried about.
That landed a bit too accurately.
ROWAN
Serena was already planning New York like it was a vacation.
“It’s going to be iconic,” she said, sprawled on my bed.
“It’s an internship.”
“And?”
“And I will be working.”
“You can do both.”
“I cannot do both.”
She threw a pillow at me. “You literally already are emotionally distracted 24/7.”
“Don’t say it like that.”
My phone buzzed again.
Mason.
Mason:
Coach is acting like we won’t survive the first week.
I smiled despite myself.
Rowan:
He might be right.
Immediate reply.
Mason:
He usually is.
Then:
Mason:
But I’m still going.
I stared at that for a second longer than I meant to.
Because that wasn’t about basketball anymore.
Not entirely.
MASON
That night I didn’t go straight home.
I sat on the gym steps instead.
Phone in hand.
New York was real now.
Not an idea.
Not a goal.
A place.
A collision point.
Rowan’s name sat in my messages like a constant reminder I couldn’t ignore anymore.
I typed:
Mason:
You nervous?
She replied fast.
Rowan:
Yes.
Pause.
Rowan:
Are you?
I looked out at the empty street.
Then:
Mason:
Yeah.
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Then:
Rowan:
Good.
I exhaled slightly.
That word again.
Good.
Not reassurance.
Not comfort.
Just acknowledgment.
Like she understood what it meant.
And for the first time since Coach posted that list—
NYC didn’t feel like pressure.
It felt like impact waiting to happen.