“Adventure.”
Blake swiped to the leaderboard.
“Engagement points move you to fifth overall.”
Amy recalculated visibly.
“Fifth?”
“After week one.”
“We can recover from fifth.”
I laughed.
“You’re adorable.”
Adorablecame out casually. Amy froze. The danger registered too late. Blake looked between us. The photographer lifted the camera. Amy recovered first.
“That is not our agreed public dynamic.”
“Our dynamic evolves.”
“Not without a revision.”
Blake laughed as though we were performing. I faced Amy.
“Sorry.”
She studied me.
“Accepted.”
The photographer took another picture. This one would probably cause trouble.
After the event, we cleared equipment in the thinning gym. Amy sat on a plyometric box with her water while I rolled the last rower into storage.
“You were right,” she said.
I stopped. “The acoustics are bad. Repeat that.”
“Do not ruin it. We were both trying to lead. My sequence without your adaptation failed; your instinct without a shared count failed.”
“Look at us. Growth.”
“I disliked losing.”
“Yes.”
“But I enjoyed the sled.”
“I know.”
“You say that too often.”
“I like knowing things about you.”
I said it quietly. Amy’s fingers tightened around the water bottle. I should have made a joke. Rose’s advice returned. When you’re afraid, don’t turn it into a joke she has to interpret. I let it remain. Amy held my gaze.
