CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
MASON
Coach didn’t talk about the media session the next morning.
That was his way of making it worse.
Silence meant it mattered.
Practice started harder than usual.
No warmups.
No easing in.
Just straight into full-contact sets like he was trying to shake something loose from us.
Or from me.
Andre took an elbow to the ribs and swore. “This is personal now, right?”
“It always is,” Luca said.
Coach blew the whistle again. “Reed. Reset your head.”
I exhaled through my nose.
My head wasn’t the problem.
That was the lie.
Everything was the problem.
Rowan. NYC. the interview. the way she didn’t look at me properly after I said “distractions.”
That word sat wrong.
I knew it did.
But I also knew I said it anyway.
And Coach knew too.
Which made it worse.
During water break, Luca leaned closer.
“You shouldn’t have said that in the interview.”
“I didn’t plan it.”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point then?”
Luca wiped his face with a towel.
“That now it’s a narrative.”
I frowned. “A what?”
“A story,” he said. “That you gave them.”
I didn’t respond immediately.
Because I didn’t like how accurate that sounded.
Coach called us back.
Again.
ROWAN
Mia was already waiting outside the media lab.
She didn’t say hello.
Just handed me coffee.
“That bad?” I asked.
“Worse,” she said.
Inside, everyone was talking over each other.
NYC shortlist revisions were circulating again.
People were tense in a new way now.
Not hopeful.
Calculating.
Professor Bennett walked in and immediately shut it down.
“You are not journalists yet,” she said. “You are applicants with opinions.”
That stung more than it should’ve.
After class, Mia followed me out.
“You’re thinking about him,” she said.
“I’m thinking about the assignment.”
“That is him.”
I didn’t answer.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
And that annoyed me more than anything.
MASON
Coach pulled me aside after practice.
Not the office this time.
Just the empty sideline.
“That interview,” he said.
I already knew what was coming.
“You gave them something.”
“I answered questions.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
I waited.
Coach looked at the court instead of me.
“You said ‘distractions.’”
I didn’t respond.
He continued.
“Media doesn’t forget words like that.”
I exhaled slowly.
“I didn’t mean her.”
Coach finally looked at me.
“That doesn’t matter.”
That landed heavy.
Because it was true.
ROWAN
Serena was sitting on my bed when I got home again.
“I watched the campus gossip forum,” she said.
I stopped. “Why?”
“Because I’m curious and bored.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“It is in modern society.”
She turned her laptop toward me.
A thread title:
NYC ATHLETE INTERVIEW — “DISTRACTIONS” COMMENT?
My stomach dropped slightly.
I didn’t even open it.
I already knew what it would be.
Speculation.
Assumptions.
Half-quotes.
Narratives forming without context.
Serena watched me carefully.
“You okay?” she asked.
“No,” I said honestly.
That surprised her.
Me too, slightly.
MASON
Luca showed me the same thread at practice.
“Congratulations,” he said. “You’re famous now.”
I stared at it.
Didn’t like it.
Not because of attention.
Because of distortion.
“That’s not what I meant,” I said.
“I know,” Luca replied. “Doesn’t matter.”
That phrase again.
Doesn’t matter.
Coach overheard.
“Welcome to NYC prep,” he said.
That was it.
No sympathy.
No correction.
Just reality.
ROWAN
I tried not to read it.
I didn’t succeed.
The more I avoided it, the more it showed up everywhere.
Screens. Conversations. whispers.
Mia finally snapped.
“You can’t control what they write,” she said.
“I know that.”
“Then stop acting like you can.”
I looked at her.
“That’s not the problem.”
“Then what is?”
I hesitated.
Then said it.
“I’m part of it now.”
Mia didn’t respond immediately.
Because she understood what I meant.
That was the worst part.
MASON
I texted Rowan during a break.
Didn’t think.
Just sent it.
Mason:
Ignore it.
Three dots.
Stopped.
Started again.
Rowan:
I am.
I stared at that.
Then:
Mason:
You’re not.
That was unfair.
But true.
Her reply came slower this time.
Rowan:
It’s not just about me.
That made me pause.
Because it wasn’t.
It was about both of us now.
Even if neither of us liked that.
ROWAN
Professor Bennett called me in after class.
I knew why immediately.
She didn’t waste time.
“Your assignment is being discussed,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You understand why that’s a problem.”
“Yes.”
She watched me for a second.
“You’re not just observing anymore,” she added.
That was new.
I frowned slightly. “What does that mean?”
“It means proximity creates bias.”
I didn’t answer.
Because she was right.
And I hated that I couldn’t argue it.
MASON
Coach changed the entire rotation lineup that day.
No explanation.
Just switch.
I ended up paired with Andre in drills.
He leaned over mid-play.
“Your girl’s got you trending,” he said.
I almost stopped moving.
“What?”
“Campus forums are going crazy.”
I didn’t respond.
Just played harder.
Too hard.
Coach noticed immediately.
“Reed,” he called. “Control it.”
I didn’t answer.
Because I wasn’t controlling anything anymore.
ROWAN
That night, Mason didn’t text first.
That was unusual.
I did.
Rowan:
This is getting worse.
Immediate reply.
Mason:
Yeah.
Pause.
Mason:
Coach said the same thing.
That made me exhale.
Not relief.
Recognition.
We were both inside the same system now.
Just from different sides.
MASON
I sat on the gym steps alone again.
Phone in hand.
Rowan’s last message still open.
This wasn’t just pressure anymore.
It was structure.
Narrative.
Control slipping sideways into interpretation.
And we were both stuck inside it.
My phone buzzed again.
Rowan.
Rowan:
Are we the problem?
I stared at that.
Long.
Hard.
Then typed:
Mason:
No.
Pause.
Deleted.
Typed again.
Mason:
I don’t think we are.
Sent.
And for the first time since this started—
I wasn’t sure if I was lying or not.