“Not perfect enough,” I muttered, staring at the floor.
Coach Flannery took a step closer. “You know, when I was about your age, I lost seventeen football games in a row.”
That made me look up. Coach Flannery was legendary at Widdershins. The idea of him losing at anything seemed impossible.
“Hard to believe, right?” he said with a small smile, catching my expression. “But it’s true. And you know what I did after each loss?”
“Worked harder?” I offered, the expected answer.
“Nope. I howled.” He tapped his chest. “Full-on werewolf howl of frustration. Scared the hell out of the people who live in these mountains. The older ones still talk about it.”
Despite myself, I cracked a smile.
His large hand settled on my shoulder. “My point is, everyone’s afraid of something. For some of us, it’s failure. For others, it’s not living up to expectations. Especially those that come from home.”
“Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but?—”
“I’m not done,” he said, his voice firmer now. “You’re good. Really fucking good. But you’re swimming like someone’s chasingyou, not like someone who’schasingvictory.”
That stung because it hit too close to home. I shrugged his hand off. “What’s the difference? I still need to win.”
“The difference is in here.” He tapped my chest with one thick finger. “When you’re running from something, you’re giving it power over you. When you’re running toward something...” He smiled, revealing slightly pointed canines. “Well, that power belongs to you.”
It sounded like something out of a kids cartoon show. That shit might’ve worked on Coach Flannery’s football guys, but I wasn’t naïve enough to fall for it. Shifting my mindset wasn’t going to make me five seconds faster. Only hard work could do that.
“I should go,” I said, adjusting my bag again. “That spellcraft homework isn’t going to do itself.”
Coach Flannery stepped aside but spoke as I passed. “Theodore,” he said, using my full name. It was something that usually annoyed me, but the gravity in his tone made me pause. “Success isn’t just about winning. It’s about knowing why you want to win in the first place. Just think about it.”
I didn’t answer, just pushed through the door and headed toward the exit. The sounds of cheering and splashing water faded behind me as I stepped out into the crisp autumn air of the Widdershins campus. Ancient oaks lined the path, their leaves turning brilliant shades of red and gold. In any other mood, I might have appreciated the beauty, but today it just felt like everything was dying, including my chances of a potential spot on the Olympic team.
I hadn’t gotten more than fifty feet before I heard my name called from behind me. My shoulders sagged. I was really hoping to avoid my parents justonceafter a swim meet.
“Theodore!” my mother called again. “Where are you going? We have a dinner reservation with the Quinns in New York. We don’t want to be late!”
I turned reluctantly, forcing a polite smile as my mother approached, her designer heels clicking on the pavement. She was dressed like she was going to a fashion show rather than a swim meet, her tailored blazer and pencil skirt immaculate as always. Not a hair out of place, not even after sitting through hours of chlorine-filled air.
“I have homework,” I said weakly, knowing it wouldn’t matter.
My mother’s perfectly penciled eyebrows rose. “Homework? Theodore, you know how important these dinners are. The Quinns have connections to the Olympic Committee.” She lowered her voice, though there was no one around to hear. “And their son just got accepted to Widdershins’ advanced magical studies program and the fencing team. Your father thinks it would be good for you to network.”
Of course he did. Everything was about networking with my father. Or, more accurately, showing off his son’s accomplishments to his business associates. Except today, I had nothing to show off except another second-place finish.
“Where is Dad?” I asked, glancing behind her.
“Speaking with the Moonhaven coach.” Her smile tightened. “That boy who beat you. What was his name? Elliot or something? Apparently, his father is very impressed with your times. Says you push his son to be better.”
Great. Even my losses were someone else’s victory story.
“I really need to work on this spellcraft project,” I tried again. “Professor Blackwood assigned?—”
“Theodore.” My mother’s tone sharpened. “Your father has already arranged everything. The Quinns are expecting us at The Alchemist at seven. That gives us just enough time to get into the city if we leave now.”
I bit back a sigh, knowing resistance was futile. My swim bag suddenly felt ten pounds heavier on my shoulder. “Can I at least change first? I’m not going to a five-star restaurant in sweats.”
She checked her watch, one of the few pieces of technology that actually worked on the Widdershins campus, as long as it was purely mechanical. “You have fifteen minutes. We’ll be waiting by the teleportation circle.”
As she walked away, I trudged back toward the dorms, my wet towel getting heavier by the minute. Another dinner where I’d have to listen to my father subtly hint at my shortcomings while praising someone else’s kid. Another evening of smiling and nodding while internally screaming. It was bad enough to have to go to practice constantly and balance a full course load at school. But being whisked off at the drop of a hat two or three times a week for dinners made having a social life nearly impossible.