STATIC

Chapter Two

Monroe

Four hours later, the jet started descending through thick clouds, the New York skyline glowing faint beneath us. I blinked awake when the wheels hit the runway hard enough to jolt my shoulder. My body ached in that satisfying, heavy way the kind that reminded me I earned every bruise tonight.

The cabin lights brightened. Everyone stretched, grabbed bags, started sounding half asleep and half ready to work again.

Coach Preston's phone started buzzing before the plane even slowed down.

He frowned at the screen.

"Oh hell," he muttered.

I didn't have to ask who it was. Only one person called this early, this consistently, and this disrespectfully.

Coach answered. "Yeah, Navy?"

His voice carried through the whole damn jet even over the engine noise.

"PRESTON, GET MY DAUGHTER TO MY GYM BEFORE FIVE A.M. OR YOU'RE RUNNING LAPS NEXT TO HER."

Everyone froze.

I sat forward slowly, elbows on my knees, rubbing my face with both hands.

Coach tried to reason. "Navy, we just landed"

"I DON'T CARE IF YOU LANDED ON MARS," Navy barked. "IF SHE AIN'T IN MY DOOR BEFORE FIVE, YOU'RE BOTH PUNISHMENTS."

Coach mouthed kill me while Navy kept going.

"And keep her OFF that phone. I don't want her on Instagram, TikTok, FaceTime, nothing. No distractions. She's working the second she touches down."

Coach cleared his throat. "Yes, sir."

"And Preston"

Coach winced. "Yeah?"

"Bring coffee. Black. No sugar. Don't play with me."

The call ended.

Coach stared at the phone like it personally ruined his life.

The whole jet burst into laughter except him.

He looked at me dead in my eyes. "Roe roe why your daddy gotta threaten me every damn day?"

I shrugged. "Maybe he just likes you."

"He likes my suffering," Preston snapped. "That man wakes up thinking about new ways to torture you and accidentally tortures me too."

Tia covered her face with her hands. "What time is it?"

I checked the flight screen. "3:12 a.m."

Everyone groaned at once.

We were barely awake, barely breathing, and Navy wanted me in the gym before five like I hadn't just knocked someone out seven hours ago.

The jet finally rolled to a stop outside the hangar. The doors opened to ice cold New York air. I stood, grabbed my duffel, and stretched my neck until it cracked loud.

"Let's move," I said.

Coach slung his bag over his shoulder with the energy of a man walking to his own funeral. "Navy gon' kill me."

"And me," I reminded him. "Don't forget who taking the punches."

We walked down the jet stairs into the predawn darkness. Our SUV was already waiting. Breath turned white in the air, and the ground lights lit up the frost on the pavement.

Tia jumped in the car, typing furiously. "I'm emailing the whole team: Roe unavailable after 4 a.m."

I slid into the back seat, laid my head against the cold window, and sighed long.