Ch. 5

Rowan POV

I couldn’t sleep. By the time I pulled my car into the campus lot the next morning, my eyes burned.

I slung my gym bag over my shoulder and kicked the athletic complex doors open. I was early today so I wasn’t expecting the guys. I just wanted to get out on the court before anyone else showed up.

When I reached the locker room doors, there was already a small crowd gathered around the main bulletin board. The guys showed up early today?

Wesley, Ralph, and three other varsity guys were standing in their warmups. The moment, they noticed me… Wesley turned around with an obnoxious smirk stretching across his face. Ralph looked up next, his expression instantly dropping.

"What?" I barked, stepping up to the board. "You guys lost your ability to speak overnight?"

Wesley didn't say a word. He just stepped aside, bowing dramatically as he gestured toward the newly printed paper pinned to the center of the corkboard.

I pushed past him, my eyes scanning the sheet. It was the depth chart and starting lineup for Thursday’s exhibition scrimmage against the varsity alumni. My eyes immediately traveled to the point guard position.

**Starting Point Guard: Wesley Vance.**

**Reserve: Rowan Hayes.**

The letters blurred for a second. Matteo was actually benching me.

"Looks like the new Coach doesn't care who your daddy is, Hayes," Wesley whispered, leaning against the lockers with his arms crossed. "Turns out walking out on practice actually means something when a real professional is running the show."

I didn't want to look at him. My fists clenched so tight I had to control myself from punching the board. I turned on my heel, ignoring Ralph as he reached out a hand to catch my shoulder. "Rowan, wait, don't go up there—"

I tore out of the locker room to the athletic department. If Matteo wanted a pawn he could move around to satisfy his own twisted power trip. Well, I was about to show him exactly what happens when he pushes me too far.

I reached his office door and didn't bother knocking. I slammed my hand against the handle and shoved it open.

Matteo was sitting behind his desk. He slowly set the coffee cup he was holding down on the blotter, adjusted his glasses, and looked up at me with those unreadable green eyes.

"You benched me," I spit out, stepping inside and slamming the door shut behind me. "You actually benched me for Thursday."

"I did," Matteo replied, his voice terrifyingly calm and flat. "You walked out on a mandatory session, Rowan. The rules are on the wall. They apply to everyone."

"Don't give me that administrative bullshit!" I yelled, stepping right up to his desk and leaning over it, forcing him to look at me. "What the fuck do you think you’re doing? This wasn’t the job my dad paid you to do."

Matteo’s jaw tightened. "Your father's money has nothing to do with what happens here," Matteo said, his tone dropping an octave. "You are the captain. You are supposed to lead by example. If the captain walks out the moment he gets frustrated, wouldn’t that be happening every now and then."

I stared at him, a humorless smile forcing its way onto my lips. "You're a hypocrite, Matt. You talk about commitment, but you're the one who walked away first."

Before he could answer, I turned around and stormed out, slamming his office door so hard the glass pane rattled in its frame.

By the time afternoon practice officially rolled around. Matteo stood by the sideline with his arms crossed, the whistle hanging around his neck, saying absolutely nothing. He was watching me and I could feel his eyes tracking my every move, but I refused to let him know I was looking back.

A small smirk appeared on his face before he finally walked back to his position near the baseline. Satisfied that I hadn't let him rattle me further, I returned to mine, rolling my shoulders as I pretended not to notice Matteo walking past me.

"We should start by five laps," I called out, spinning the basketball on my finger. "Since some of you clearly forgot why you're here." I directed the last part straight at Wesley, who was already slacking near the baseline.

A chorus of groans filled the court.

"No complaints. Move," I barked.

One by one, they started running. Matteo stood by the sideline with his arms crossed, saying nothing. The laps didn't last long before we moved into passing drills.

"Faster!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the concrete walls. "You're passing like you're afraid of the damn ball!"

The pace picked up again. The ball flew across the court every now and then. Thursday wasn't far away, and Riverside wasn't the kind of team we could afford to underestimate if we wanted to survive the season opener. I caught another sloppy pass from the perimeter and threw it right back with lethal force.

"Wesley." He stopped, looking at me with an incredibly annoyed expression. "If you're going to daydream, do it after practice," I said, my voice dripping with ice.

A few snickers broke out from the sophomores near the bench. Wesley rolled his eyes and caught the next pass without saying a word. On a normal day, he would find a way to make sure he wasn't playing or cooperating, but at least he was finally cooperating today.

I clicked my tongue, my frustration bubbling back to the surface as the defense fell apart within seconds. "Talk to each other!" I barked, stepping up to the key. "Do I have to play all five positions myself?"

For the next few minutes, they actually started playing like a team. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than before. I stayed on everyone's backs, calling out screens, directing passes, and correcting positions before Matteo even had the chance to open his mouth.

It was exhausting. Sometimes I wondered if I was the captain or the babysitter for a bunch of toddlers.

The ball suddenly bounced straight out of bounds off a terrible deflection, and I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. "Wesley."

"What?" he shot back, his voice incredibly loud.

"What was that supposed to mean?"

"It slipped."

"No." I bounced the ball back to him hard, the leather smacking against his chest. "You just weren't paying attention."

His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing into slits as he stepped up to me. "Maybe if you stopped barking at the rest of us like we are your kids, we'll play better!"

"What do you mean?" I called out, my voice rising as I walked directly toward him, matching his stride until there were only inches between us.

Wesley let out a dry, mocking laugh, looking around at the rest of the guys. "You think you're some god-given captain or something?"

I stopped right in front of him, my chest heaving against his. "What?"

"You heard me." His voice rose loud enough for everyone in the entire gym to hear, echoing clearly up to the rafters. "You keep acting like you're better than the rest of us. Every damn mistake we make, you've got something to say."

"Because someone has to," I growled, my vision tunneling. "Because without me keeping this disaster together, you guys wouldn't win a single game."

"Oh, please." He scoffed, a disgusting, arrogant look on his face. "Without basketball, you're nothing."

I let out a sharp, empty laugh. "Finished?"

He stepped even closer, his forehead almost touching mine. "You don't own this team, Rowan."

"No," I nodded, my voice dropping into a lethal, dangerous whisper. "But at least I know how to play for it."

His face darkened instantly. "Asshole."

"The asshole who's carrying your useless ass every practice."

The words had barely left my mouth before my fist landed across his jaw.