Cleanup

Jace’s POV

I sat on the bench in front of my locker, my towel heavy around my neck, hair still dripping cold water down my back. My shoulder throbbed in steady pulses. I kept rolling it slowly, my jaw clenched every time the pain flared.

The locker room was loud. 

“Yo, Captain!” Ryan called out, grinning wide as he waved his phone. “You seeing this shit? That video’s everywhere. #CollisionCouple is actually trending.”

I didn’t look up. My eyes stayed glued to the scuffed floor between my feet. I dug my fingers into the edge of the bench.

Mike dropped down beside me, elbows on his knees. “For real though, people are eating it up. Comments are all positive for once.”

I exhaled hard through my nose and started shoving my gear into my bag, the zipper caught. I yanked it harder. “It was an accident and I barely touched her.”

Ryan laughed from across the row. “Accident or not, it’s perfect timing. After Maya’s been dragging your name through the mud for weeks—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off sharply, voice low. My hand froze on the zipper.

Mike leaned forward. “Maya’s still posting stuff, man. The rumors aren’t dying, this could actually help shut it down.”

I stood up fast, the bench scraped loudly against the floor. I paced a few steps down the row, bag half-zipped banging against my leg. My free hand came up to rub the back of my neck.

Ryan kept going. “One or two pics, bro. Let people think you’re with her. Suddenly you’re not the asshole who—”

“I’m not using some random girl to fix my mess,” I muttered, stopping near the end of the lockers. My forehead pressed against the cold metal door. I closed my eyes for a long second, breathing in the smell of old sweat and metal.

The silence stretched. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears.

Mike’s voice came quieter. “She’s a scholarship kid, a journalism major. Probably keeps to herself, she might not be that bad.”

I turned around slowly, back against the locker. My arms crossed tight over my chest, shoulders hunched. “And if she says no?”

Ryan shrugged. “Then you tried, but right now? This is the best thing that’s happened to your image in weeks.”

I stared at the floor again, my jaw clenched back and forth, I dug my fingers into my arms. The pressure in my chest kept building, heavy and constant, like it always did. Dad’s voice from yesterday echoed in my head, that flat disappointment, the reminder that nothing was ever enough, the scouts watching, the team counting on me and Maya’s posts still floating around.

I started pacing again. Short, tight steps. Three one way, turn, three back. My socks slid slightly on the damp floor. My shoulder ached worse with every movement, but I didn’t stop.

Mike watched me the whole time. “Jace… you’ve been carrying this team, carrying all that pressure from your dad. This could make things quieter. For once.”

I stopped near the bench. My hands dropped to my sides, then clenched into fists. I could feel the tremble in them. I shoved them into my hoodie pocket so no one would see.

The guys exchanged looks but stayed quiet for a moment. The locker room noise from the other end felt far away.

I pulled out my phone. My thumb hovered over the message I’d already sent Ariana earlier. Still no reply, the screen blurred for a second. I blinked hard and shoved the phone back in my pocket.

“Whatever,” I said, voice rough and quiet. “I’ll think about it.”

Ryan opened his mouth like he wanted to push more, but Mike shot him a look. They let it drop.

I grabbed my bag and slung it over my good shoulder. My steps felt heavier than they should as I headed for the door. Every stride made the weight press down harder; the expectations, the calls from Dad, the mess with Maya and now this girl who had nothing to do with any of it.

I pushed the door open and stepped into the hallway. The cooler air hit my face but didn’t ease the tightness in my chest or the way my hands still wouldn’t stop clenching inside my pockets.

I kept walking, the echo of my footsteps followed me the whole way out.

I guess it's time to find Ariana.