CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
ROWAN
NYC didn’t feel real until I saw the email twice.
Then three times.
Then I refreshed it like it was going to change its mind.
It didn’t.
SELECTED.
Still there.
Mia screamed again when I walked into the media lab.
“YOU’RE GOING TO NEW YORK,” she said like it was a personal achievement for her.
“I know,” I said, still staring at my phone.
Bennett walked past my desk and tapped it once.
“No hesitation now,” she said. “You’re in. Perform like it.”
Then she moved on.
No celebration.
Just expectation upgraded.
That was worse.
My phone buzzed.
Mason.
Mason:
You survived the email?
I stared at it for a second.
Rowan:
Barely.
Mason:
Same.
That made me pause.
Same?
I frowned slightly.
Rowan:
You’re acting like you didn’t already know you were getting in.
Three dots.
Stopped.
Started again.
Mason:
Coach posted the list after practice.
Mason:
It’s real now.
Something about that wording hit differently.
Real now.
Like before it wasn’t.
Like now it had weight.
MASON
Coach didn’t say congratulations.
He just nodded at me after practice.
That was it.
No praise.
No speech.
Just:
“You made it. Now don’t get comfortable.”
I respected that more than anything else he could’ve said.
Still didn’t make my brain quiet.
Luca leaned against the wall while I packed my bag.
“You’re thinking about her,” he said.
“I’m thinking about NYC.”
“Same thing now?”
I didn’t answer.
Because that was the problem.
It was starting to feel like it.
My phone buzzed.
Rowan.
Rowan:
It feels weird.
I stared at that.
Then:
Mason:
Yeah.
Mason:
It does.
No jokes this time.
No sarcasm.
Just agreement.
ROWAN
Serena insisted we “celebrate” by ordering food we couldn’t afford.
“I got accepted into New York,” I said.
“And?” she replied, already scrolling menus.
“And I have responsibilities.”
“And I have hunger.”
She won.
Obviously.
While she argued with delivery apps, my phone buzzed again.
Mason.
Mason:
We leave in six weeks.
I stared at it.
Six weeks sounded long.
Until I said it twice.
Then it didn’t.
Rowan:
That’s soon.
Mason:
Too soon.
That was new.
Mason didn’t usually say things like that directly.
Too soon implied something.
Pressure.
Change.
Awareness.
Serena looked over at me. “You’re doing the thing again.”
“What thing?”
“The phone thing.”
“I’m just texting.”
“Emotionally texting.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“It is now.”
MASON
I was in the gym alone again.
Not practice.
Just shooting.
No coach.
No noise.
Just the echo of the ball.
My phone sat on the bleachers beside me.
It buzzed twice.
Rowan.
Rowan:
Are we supposed to be excited or stressed?
I missed a shot.
That was a fair question.
Mason:
Both.
Rowan:
That’s annoying.
I smiled slightly.
Mason:
Welcome to NYC.
That one landed differently.
Because it made it feel like we were already there.
Not physically.
Just… mentally locked in.
ROWAN
Mia sat across from me in the library like she was studying me instead of her notes.
“You’re distracted,” she said.
“I’m focused.”
“You just stared at the same sentence for five minutes.”
“It’s a complicated sentence.”
She leaned forward. “Is it Mason?”
“No.”
“That was too fast.”
I sighed.
“Yes.”
She nodded like she’d solved a puzzle.
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
That part was honest.
Mia didn’t tease me for it.
Which was new.
Instead she said, “NYC is going to make it worse.”
I looked up.
“Or clearer,” she added.
That didn’t help.
At all.
My phone buzzed.
Mason.
Mason:
Coach says we’re officially in ‘don’t screw this up’ mode.
I stared at it.
Then typed:
Rowan:
That sounds like your entire life.
Three dots.
Stopped.
Started again.
Mason:
Yeah.
Mason:
But now it matters more.
That line sat heavy.
Not dramatic.
Just true.
MASON
I didn’t go home after practice.
I stayed again.
Rowan and I had been texting less today.
Not because anything changed.
Just because reality was starting to stack on top of it.
Coach.
Training.
Expectations.
NYC.
Everything tightening.
Luca sat beside me on the bleachers eating something suspiciously unhealthy.
“You’re quieter,” he said.
“Observant.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I know.”
He looked at my phone on the bench.
“Still her?”
I didn’t deny it.
That was answer enough.
My phone buzzed.
Rowan.
Rowan:
Do you think things change when we get there?
I stared at that.
Longer than I should’ve.
Because that was the question I was avoiding.
Mason:
Yeah.
Pause.
Mason:
I think they already are.
That was the truth.
Even if I didn’t like how much of it I meant.
ROWAN
I sat on my bed later that night, lights off, phone glowing in my hand.
Serena had fallen asleep mid-rant about New York food places.
My room was quiet.
Too quiet.
Mason’s last message was still open.
I typed:
Rowan:
That’s what I’m worried about.
Then stopped.
Deleted it.
Typed again.
Rowan:
Same.
Sent.
Because that was simpler.
Less honest in a way.
But still true.
My phone buzzed almost instantly.
Mason.
Mason:
Yeah.
No extra words.
No joke.
No distance.
Just agreement again.
And somehow that felt like the most unstable thing of all.