I quickly stuff the bottle back into my toiletry bag and smooth the bedspread. "Yeah, come on in."
Bo enters carrying two bottles of water and wearing the kind of gentle expression that makes people confess their deepest secrets. "Thought you might be thirsty. Grabbed these from the vending machine."
"Thanks." I accept the bottle gratefully, the cool plastic a relief against my palms. "You didn't have to do that."
"I know." He settles into the chair by the window, giving me space while making it clear he's available if needed. "Rough conversation with your folks?"
"You could say that." I take a long drink of water, buying time to decide how much to share. "They want me to transfer back to Westlake."
Bo's expression darkens. "Because of the break-in?"
"Because of everything." I curl my legs under me, suddenly feeling younger than my nineteen years. "They don't approve of my choices. The team, the school, any of it."
"Their loss," Bo says simply. "You're the best cox we've ever had."
The words settle in a dark part of my chest that I would rather stay empty. I don’t have the luxury of feeling the impact words like that could have on me. In the space of one afternoon, I've been told by my parents that I'm making catastrophic mistakes and by my teammates that I belong exactly where I am. The contrast is dizzying.
"Bo?" I set down my water bottle carefully. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"When you first joined the team, did you ever feel like you were pretending to be someone you weren't?"
He considers this, head tilted slightly. "You mean like imposter syndrome? Thinking everyone would figure out I didn't belong?"
"Something like that."
"Every damn day for the first year," he admits. "Kept waiting for Coach to realize he'd made a mistake recruiting some kid from backwoods Alabama."
"But you got past it."
"Eventually. Realized the only person who thought I was pretending was me." His warm brown eyes study my face. "You having doubts about the team?"
"Not about the team," I say quietly. "About whether I can keep doing what I'm doing."
It's as close to the truth as I can get without revealing everything. Bo seems to understand anyway, nodding slowly.
"Whatever's got you worried, we'll figure it out," he says. "Team takes care of team."
The simple statement should be reassuring. Instead, it makes my chest tighten with guilt. The team would take care of me if they knew what I really was, but that knowledge would also destroy everything we've built. University policies, competition regulations, social dynamics. My presence as an Omega would complicate their lives in ways they don't deserve.
"You should get some sleep," Bo says, finishing his water. "Big day tomorrow."
"Yeah." I force a smile. "Thanks for the water. And for listening."
"Always." He pauses at the door. "Reese? Whatever your parents said tonight, they're wrong. You belong with us." I nod, but I know he doesn’t trust it. He sighs. “I’ve gotta talk to Coach real quick, but I’ll be back in a few. If you need something while I’m down there, just text.”
After he leaves, I sit alone in the quiet hotel room, surrounded by the familiar sounds of a team settling in for the night. Muffled conversations through thin walls, the occasional laugh from down the hall, the distant hum of the ice machine. Normal sounds from a normal team preparing for a normal race.
Except nothing about this situation is normal.
I retrieve the suppressant bottle and count the pills again. Still four. Still not enough.
My phone rings, startling me from my calculations. Unknown number, but I recognize the area code. Atlanta.
"Hello?"
"Miss Callahan? This is Dr. McGregor from Westfield Pharmacy. I'm calling about your prescription refill."
