Page 337 of Playing Dirty

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Then he walked away.

ROWAN

Mia slammed her laptop shut.

“I’m going insane,” she announced.

“That’s new?”

“No, but it’s worse today.”

We were in the media lab again, except now it felt like everyone was silently competing for oxygen.

NYC placements had turned campus into a pressure cooker.

People were polite, but barely.

Smiles felt sharp.

Compliments felt strategic.

Professor Bennett didn’t even pretend it wasn’t intentional.

“You should all be uncomfortable,” she said from the front. “If you’re not, you’re already behind.”

That was comforting in a horrifying way.

After class, Mia grabbed my arm.

“You’ve changed,” she said.

“I literally haven’t.”

“You have.”

“How?”

“You keep checking your phone like it’s going to explain your future to you.”

I didn’t answer that.

Because I couldn’t.

MASON

Luca threw a water bottle at me after practice.

I caught it without looking.

“You’re doing it again,” he said.

“Doing what.”

“That thing where you disappear in your head during games.”

“I’m not disappearing.”

“You are.”

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