Page 87 of My Pucked Up Enemy

She freezes. A blink. Her mouth parts just slightly, then her hand comes up to cover it. Patty follows her gaze and lets out a little squeal.

I stand up, slow, letting it hit her.

"Surprise," I say.

Her eyes are shining before she even reaches the table.

"You guys came?"

"Well," James says, grinning, "we heard there’d be dinner rolls and speeches. We can’t resist either."

Parker stands and hugs her first. Then Ethan. Then James, who mutters, “You smell like competence and good decisions.”

She laughs through a teary smile and finally gets to me.

"Hi," she says softly.

"Hi," I reply, trying not to say everything I’m thinking.

She wraps her arms around me. I hold her like I’m anchoring both of us.

"You didn’t have to do this," she murmurs near my ear.

"Yeah, I did."

She pulls back just enough to look at me. That look. The one where she sees too much.

We reintroduce ourselves to Patty, who instantly charms the guys, and to her parents, who surprise the hell out of me by being completely lovely. Her dad talks hockey with Coach and James like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life.

"You got a strong team this year," he says, nodding. "That Henderson kid—fast hands. Love the grit."

James pretends to faint. "Tell my coach! I’ve been saying that for weeks."

Coach just smirks. Lizzie leans toward Nina’s mom. "They’re like this all the time."

Her mom laughs and sips her wine. “I can see why Nina likes working with them. They’re impossibly charming."

And I swear, in that moment, Nina looks lighter, like some invisible weight she’s been carrying around has lifted, even just a little.

And I know we did the right thing by showing up tonight.

I just don’t know how I’ll handle it when the lights go down and I have to pretend she’s not becoming everything I want.

The dinner is served in courses too fancy for any of us to pronounce. James tries to guess what every dish is just based on shape. Ethan gives everything a Yelp-style rating.

"This salad’s dressed like it’s got something to prove," Ethan mutters.

"Tastes like it got dressed up for a date, was ghosted, and ended up on our plates," James adds, stabbing at the lettuce like it personally offended him.

Connor chuckles and just shakes his head at James.

Parker, ever the diplomat, just grins. "Honestly, the bread’s the MVP so far."

Nina keeps glancing across the table, smiling softly when she catches me watching her. She looks poised and composed, but I know her well enough now to see the nerves. The tight grip on her napkin. The slight way she exhales before a toast. She’s usually brilliant under pressure, but this means something to her. This is personal.

The lights dim just slightly, and the emcee returns to the podium, tapping the mic with a practiced smile. “Let’s begin our presentation of tonight’s honors,” he announces, and the gentle clink of silverware dies down around the room.

The first few awards are recognitions for academic excellence, lifetime service, and contributions to research. Applause swells, polite and respectful, as names are read and photos flash on the screen behind the stage.

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