Page 93 of Crew Girl

Juliet could wrangle gossip out of a spy if she wanted to. “There was someone else. I hooked up with Josh.”

“Wow.” She clearly hadn’t seen that coming. “I cannot leave you unsupervised.”

“No need to worry. He’s firmly in the past tense.” Teagan gave a little sniff and fluffed her bun as proof. “I’m focusing on me now.” The clip holding her bun in place fell out.

“Yes.” Juliet held out a brush. “I can see that.”

Teagan’s shoulders slumped. It was too big an ask.

Juliet put the brush down, then took a breath like she was considering saying or doing something that was not her usual modus operandi: insulting people in a lofty tone. “Is this a hug situation?”

Sweet baby cheesus. Did she really look that bad? And also, no. She’d cry and Juliet would flee and then she wouldn’t have any friends left. She shook her head in thanks. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Juliet did it anyway, which was really, really nice of her. When it became awkward, about two seconds later, Juliet took hold of Teagan’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Boys are so unnecessary.”

Yeah. They were.

Juliet released her and held out the brush. “Hygiene is.”

Boys, annoyingly, were necessary when you were coxing an eight boat full of them.

At least today she wasn’t in charge. Or out on the water, face-to-face with a boy she kept telling herself wasn’t remotely on her romance radar. Coach Hayden had called an erg session, but only Cam, Josh, Baloo, and Ryder were there. Coach told them to press out a 2K sprint, then left the room. No explanation about why the others weren’t there. No one bothered enough to ask.

The guys looked… intense.

Baloo hadn’t been the same since Oar-Gate. He was training hard, but not following the best fueling regime. She’d seen him shoving a couple of crumpled-up bags of potato chips into the trash when he thought no one was looking.

Ryder looked like a zombie version of himself. Rowing as if his undead life depended upon it.

Josh was pressing out strokes in the all-hallowed zone: hitting a stroke time that took half as long as it took for the return slide. Return slides were hilariously called recovery time.

Not like this, they weren’t. The effort it took to pull that hard, with exacting precision, was huge. He was sweating buckets. But doing well.

She’d seen him tossing back a pill from the same container she’d caught him with at his birthday, but when she’d asked him about it, he pulled a box of Tic Tacs out of his pocket. Didn’t offer her one, though. As if he didn’t care whether her breath was minty fresh.

Cam was in the zone, too. Shoulders strong, back straight, leg muscles nowhere near the dreaded shake, when you’d pushed beyond your limit and everything started quivering from the strain. He had a few streaks of oil on him, like he’d come straight from his dad’s shop to training.

At least she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t making an effort with their appearance.

Coach Hayden came back in as one by one they finished their sprints, guzzled water and energy drinks, and panted.

“Good workout?” Coach asked.

He got a few grunts in reply.

“You’re probably wondering why it’s only the five of you today.”

They all perked up. So there was a reason the others weren’t here.

“The Norfolk Indoor Rowing Invitational is coming up,” Coach said. “Only those with strong erg scores qualify. This year, as a bonus, a scout from the Junior National team will be attending the event.”

They were hanging on to his every word.

“Cam, Josh, Ryder, Baloo?”

C’mon, Coach. Spit it out.

“You’ve made the cut.”