Cameron enters from outside, the faint scent of cigarettes clinging to him. He pauses, following my gaze to where Reese sits on the couch between Beckett and Zane. Something passes across his usually impassive face, a flicker of emotion quickly suppressed.
"Problem, Blake?" I ask.
He glances at me, expression neutral once more. "No."
But he continues watching Reese for a moment longer before heading upstairs, that unusual attentiveness I've been noticing more frequently. I file away this observation with the others, the puzzle of team dynamics growing more complex by the day.
By 9:30, the evening begins to wind down. Reese stands, gathering her things. "I should head back. Early class tomorrow."
"I'll walk you," I offer.
"Not necessary."
"It's dark, and campus security reported an incident near the science buildings last week."
She looks like she wants to argue, then sighs. "Fine."
Bo reappears from the kitchen with a container. "Leftovers," he says, handing it to Reese. "Since you barely ate."
"Thanks, Strickland," she says, genuine gratitude in her voice. "Dinner was amazing."
"Team tradition," he replies with a warm smile. "You're team now."
Surprise and guilt compete for dominance on her face until she masks both. "Right. Team."
Outside, the night air carries the scent of approaching rain. We walk in silence for several minutes, Reese maintaining a careful distance between us. I match her pace, shortening my stride to accommodate her shorter legs.
"You don't have to do this," she says eventually. "I've walked home alone plenty of times."
"I know you can," I glance down at her. "But the team needs its coxswain in one piece for Riverside."
There it is again, that almost imperceptible tension at the mention of the race.
"About Riverside," she begins, then stops.
"What about it?"
She hesitates, conflict evident in her expression. "Nothing. Just... we should run through the course map one more time before we leave Friday."
Another deflection. My patience is wearing thin.
"Callahan." I stop walking, forcing her to stop too. "What aren't you telling me?"
Rain begins to fall, light drops that promise to become heavier. She looks up at the sky, then back at me, water beading on her dark hair.
"A lot of things," she says finally. "None of which are relevant to my ability to cox."
"Let me be the judge of that."
"No." She steps back. "Some things are private, Lockwood. Even from the almighty team captain."
The firmness in her voice shouldn't be surprising, but somehow it is. Few people stand up to me this directly.
"If it affects the team—"
"It won't." She cuts me off. "I promised I'd get you through Riverside, and I will. Trust that if nothing else."
The rain falls harder now, plastering her hair to her face. She looks smaller somehow, vulnerable in a way I rarely see. Yet the determination in her eyes remains undiminished.
