LANE SIX

The first thing I noticed about Blackwater Sports Academy was the silence. Not actual silence. The kind that happens when people stop talking the second you walk into a room. Conversations cut off around me as I stepped through the indoor training facility doors with my duffel bag hanging from one shoulder. Sneakers squeaked against the polished floor. Somewhere across the massive track, a starting pistol cracked through the air. And still everyone stared. God, I should’ve expected it. A giant screen mounted above the bleachers flashed upcoming race schedules, but someone had pulled up i********: underneath it instead. My face filled the screen. The blurry video. The whispers. The comments. Naomi Blake Caught With Coach. My stomach twisted so hard I almost turned around and walked straight back out the doors. A laugh sounded somewhere behind me. “Damn,” a girl muttered. “That’s actually her.” Heat crawled up my neck. I tightened my grip on my bag and kept walking anyway. Because humiliation only kills you if you let it. And I’d already survived worse. “Blake!” A whistle shrieked. Coach Daniels stood near the center lanes with his clipboard tucked under one arm. Tall. Broad. Intimidating enough that everyone around him looked terrified to breathe wrong. “You’re late.” “I got here three minutes ago.” “And practice started ten minutes ago.” His eyes swept over me. “Hope your running is better than your attitude.” A few athletes snickered but I ignored them. Coach jerked his chin toward the track. “Warm up. Trials start now.” , There was no welcome, no introduction, or fake sympathy. Honestly? I preferred that. I dropped my bag beside the bleachers and stretched quickly, trying to ignore the stares drilling into my skin. That’s when I felt him watching me. Not casually but intensely. I looked up and forgot how to breathe for half a second. Lane four. He was tall, with broad shoulders. Black compression shirt clinging to his chest, dark hair damp with sweat, sharp jaw, a tattoo on his neck, and sharp eyes. The kind of face people wrote songs about and bad decisions around. Jace Donovan. Even I knew who he was. National-level sprinter. Blackwater captain, recruiters obsessed with him. And judging by the way he looked at me— He already hated me. “Eyes forward, Donovan,” Coach barked. Jace didn’t move his gaze from mine. Then slowly, deliberately, he looked away like I wasn’t worth the attention. Something irrational inside me snapped instantly. Great. So he was arrogant too. Coach clapped once. “Relay trials. Donovan, Reed, Torres—same order as usual.” Athletes moved toward the lanes. “And Blake,” Coach added, glancing at me, “you’ll run anchor.” Murmurs exploded immediately. “What?” “You’re joking.” “She hasn’t raced in months—” Jace’s voice cut through everyone else’s. “No.” The single word echoed harder than shouting. Coach looked unimpressed. “Excuse me?” Jace stepped forward slightly, arms folded across his chest. “We already have a relay team.” “And?” “And she’s a distraction.” Every eye in the building swung toward me. My pulse thudded once. Hard. Coach’s expression darkened. “You questioning my decisions now?” “I’m questioning hers.” Jace finally looked directly at me again. Cold. Assessing. “If she’s on my relay team, we lose.” The air disappeared from my lungs. Not because it hurt. Because somehow after everything people had already said about me, that one landed deepest. Maybe because he sounded so sure. A few people laughed quietly. Someone whispered, “Damn.” I should’ve ignored him, should’ve taken the high road but instead I smiled. “Funny,” I said, stepping onto the track, “I was thinking the same thing about you.” The entire facility went silent. Mason Reed—the blond guy beside Jace—actually choked on his water. Coach Daniels looked seconds away from developing a stress headache. But Jace? He smiled, and somehow that was worse because he smiled in a competitive way. Like I’d finally become interesting. “Positions,” Coach ordered. I rolled my shoulders once and moved toward lane six. My old lane. For one horrible second, memories punched through me so fast my vision blurred. Crowds screaming, camera flashes, the leaked video. Reporters. My mother was crying in our kitchen while strangers destroyed my life online. Run!!!. The word echoed in my head like a command. So I did. The starting gun fired, and everything disappeared not people or rumors but everything entirely. My body moved before thought could catch it. One stride. Then another. The track blurred beneath me as air ripped past my skin. My heartbeat steadied instead of panicking. Muscles remembered what depression had tried to erase. God. I’d missed this. The relay baton smacked into my palm from the second runner. “Go!” I exploded forward. The world narrowed into lanes and speed and the sound of sneakers striking the ground. Someone shouted behind me. I pushed harder. By the final curve, I knew I was destroying them. The finish line rushed closer and closer then was gone. Silence hit half a second before the scoreboard updated. LANE 6 — FIRST. Breathing hard, I straightened slowly as whispers erupted across the facility. “No way.” “She’s insane.” “I thought she was washed.” My chest heaved violently. For the first time in months, adrenaline flooded my veins instead of shame. Coach Daniels looked satisfied. Mason looked shocked. And Jace Donovan? He stared at me as he’d just realized I was dangerous. I walked toward him slowly, sweat cooling against my skin. People moved aside automatically. Jace’s jaw ticked once. “You got lucky,” he said. I laughed softly. “No,” I replied. “You’re just threatened.” His eyes darkened instantly. Then he stepped closer. Close enough that I caught the scent of sweat and smoke and something painfully masculine. “You think one race impresses me?” he murmured. “I think you noticed me,” I shot back. And that was a big mistake because something shifted in his expression it wasn't hatred but something hotter. Coach Daniels blew his whistle sharply before either of us spoke again. “Congratulations,” he announced to the team. “Looks like our relay season just got complicated.”