“I don’t—it was just supposed to be sex. I’ve never… cared. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

“I don’t think we get to choose who we fall in love with,” Alexis says softly.

I rear back like she slapped me. “I didn’t say anything about love.”

“So… your plan is to never see him again?”

“I mean, I assume he’ll be at the next summer Olympics.”

Alexis snorts. “Right.”

“Scott! Get your ass out here for a second round!” Ellie shouts.

“Be right there,” I call back. “It’s best this way,” I tell Alexis, draining the rest of my beer. “Cleaner.”

I stand and return to the makeshift dance floor, losing myself in the music’s beat. But the pulsing bass doesn’t drown out my thoughts for long.

Did I say I’m leaving tomorrow?

Does Beck know today was the last day of Scholenberg?

Did the goodbye I uttered sound as final to him as it did to me?

I’m speeding toward the end of my time in Germany like I’m inside a car Beck is driving, and Alexis was right. I want to be spending the remainder of it with him.

The night ends with a speech from Coach Weber. It’s quite different from her words to me earlier. She sticks to inspirational quotes and ends by telling us we’re one of her favorite groups. It’s a line I’m certain she’s included every year since she became head of the program over a decade ago, but it’s still nice to hear.

The night winds down pretty quickly after that. The beer garden’s staff seem eager to see us go. Not only are we a boisterous group, but Scholenberg rented out the whole place. Our exit means they can shut down for the night.

Ellie’s already concocting a plan to return to Submarine when we emerge out onto the street.

“I’m going to head back to the house,” I tell her. “I’m exhausted and I’ve got an early flight.”

“Fine,” Ellie agrees with a disappointed sigh. “We can drop you off on the way.”

“It’s fine. I’m just going to walk,” I reply. “One last look at the city, you know?”

Ellie studies me for a minute, and I think she’s going to call me out on it. “Text me when you’re back,” is all she says.

“I will. Have fun,” I encourage as I start down the street—in the opposite direction from the building I’ve lived in for the past two months. I’m already in Kluvberg’s most upscale neighborhood. It’s only two blocks from Beck’s apartment building.

I hover on the sidewalk, staring up at the highest floor. There are a couple of lights on, not enough for me to tell if he’s home or just left them on earlier.