Across the Hall: A College Romance

Rowing Practice

The sun had barely risen, casting a soft golden glow over the lake as Wyatt trudged toward the boathouse. His head still throbbed from last night's drinking, and every step felt like a reminder of the poor decisions he'd made. He couldn't believe he was actually going through with rowing practice after the night he'd had, but there was no way he was going to let Dylan—or anyone else—see him bail.

The boathouse loomed ahead, a familiar sight that usually brought a sense of calm, but today, it only added to Wyatt's anxiety. He still hadn't fully processed the events of the morning—waking up in Dylan's bed, the awkward conversation, the realization that nothing had happened. Even though Dylan had been cool about it, Wyatt couldn't shake the feeling that things had shifted between them.

As he reached the boathouse, Wyatt spotted Dylan leaning against the building, his usual easygoing smile in place. Dylan looked surprisingly fresh for someone who had to deal with his best friends bullshit all night.

"Morning, sunshine," Dylan called out as Wyatt approached, his tone light and teasing. "How's the head?"

Wyatt forced a grin, trying to match Dylan's energy. "Like it got run over by a truck. But I'll live."

Dylan chuckled, pushing off the wall and walking over to Wyatt. "I'm impressed you actually showed up. I half expected you to bail after last night."

"Couldn't let you have all the fun," Wyatt replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Besides, I need to sweat out whatever's left in my system."

"Smart move," Dylan said, giving Wyatt a playful nudge. "Let's get to it, then."

The rest of the rowing team was already gathering by the dock, their voices carrying across the still water as they prepared for practice. Wyatt exchanged a few nods and waves with his teammates, but his mind was elsewhere. He kept stealing glances at Dylan, trying to gauge if anything had changed between them, but Dylan seemed as relaxed as ever.

After a quick warm-up, the team moved to the boats. Wyatt and Dylan ended up in the same boat, as usual. They were a good pair, their movements synchronized from years of practice. The routine of rowing, the rhythm of their strokes, was almost second nature by now—a comforting constant in the chaos of college life.

As they pushed off from the dock, the familiar strain of muscles pulling against the oars settled into Wyatt's body, grounding him. The water was calm, reflecting the pale morning sky, and the sound of oars slicing through the surface was almost meditative.

For a while, they rowed in silence, the focus on maintaining their rhythm. But Wyatt couldn't ignore the tension that had built up in him since that morning, a knot of confusion and unspoken questions that seemed to grow with each stroke.

Finally, he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Dylan," Wyatt said, his voice low, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of their oars. "About this morning..."

Dylan glanced over at him, his expression unreadable. "Yeah?"

Wyatt hesitated, unsure how to put his thoughts into words. "I just... I wanted to say sorry again. For assuming... you know. And for making things weird."

Dylan's eyes softened, and he gave a slight shake of his head. "Wyatt, you don't have to keep apologizing. I get it. You were drunk, confused. It's not a big deal."

"But it is," Wyatt insisted, his grip tightening on the oar. "At least, it feels like it is to me. I don't want things to be weird between us. You're my best friend."

Dylan was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the water ahead. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, but there was something deeper there, something Wyatt couldn't quite place.

"Things are only weird if we let them be," Dylan said. "We're still the same guys we were yesterday. Friends. Teammates. Nothing's changed unless you want it to."

Wyatt felt a strange mix of relief and something else—a flicker of disappointment, maybe? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that Dylan's words were both comforting and unsettling. Did he want things to change? And if they did, what would that even mean?

"I don't want anything to change," Wyatt said quickly, though the words felt hollow as they left his mouth. "I just... I don't know. I guess I'm still wrapping my head around everything."

Dylan nodded, his expression understanding. "It's a lot to take in. But we don't have to figure it all out right now. Let's just get through practice, and we can talk later if you want."

Wyatt appreciated the offer, but the idea of talking more about it made his stomach twist. "Yeah, maybe," he said, his voice trailing off as he focused back on rowing.

The rest of practice went by in a blur. Wyatt tried to lose himself in the rhythm, in the physicality of rowing, but his mind kept drifting back to Dylan and the unspoken tension between them. He couldn't stop thinking about what Dylan had said—that nothing had to change unless he wanted it to.

But what did Wyatt want?

As they rowed back to the dock, the sun now fully up, Wyatt felt more exhausted than he ever had after a practice. His muscles ached, his head was still pounding, and he was no closer to figuring out what was going on between him and Dylan.

When they finally pulled the boat out of the water, Dylan gave Wyatt a quick smile, the kind that was meant to reassure him that everything was fine. But Wyatt could tell there was something else behind it, something unspoken.

"See you later?" Dylan asked as they headed back toward the boathouse.

"Yeah, later," Wyatt replied, trying to sound normal, but he could feel the weight of the day hanging over him.

As he walked away, towel slung over his shoulder, Wyatt couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something bigger, something that neither of them were ready to face.

And as much as he wanted to believe that nothing had to change, Wyatt knew deep down that things already had.