Page 48 of The Dating Coach
The play developed in slow motion. Henry on my left wing, Frank driving the net. Their goalie cheated toward Henry, anticipating the pass. Instead, I went five-hole, threading the puck between his pads with surgical precision.
The goal light flashed. The crowd erupted. And somewhere in those stands, I knew Gemma was cheering.
"That's what focus looks like," I told Morrison as I skated past their bench.
The game turned into a showcase after that. We rolled them 5-2, with me assisting on three more goals. But the score was secondary to the feeling – like everything was finally aligning, like the future I'd been afraid to want was suddenly possible.
By the time I made it to Maverick's bar, our usual post-game spot, the party was in full swing. The bar had been invaded by what seemed like half the swim team, all there to celebrate Gemma's triumph. She stood near the pool table, still wearing my jersey, laughing at something Karen was saying.
When she spotted me, her face lit up in a way that made every check I'd taken worth it. I crossed to her, not caring who was watching, and pulled her into a tight hug that was definitely too intense for public consumption.
"Ninety-four percent," I murmured to her. "You absolute genius."
"You saw?" She pulled back, surprised, breaking the hug. "During warm-ups?"
"Marcus streamed it," I admitted. "I may have yelled when I saw your results. Coach was not impressed."
"You're ridiculous," she said, but she was beaming. "How was the game? I was too nervous to watch properly."
"We won," I said simply. "But that's not the important victory tonight."
Someone started a chant of "SPEECH!" directed at Gemma. She tried to protest, but Karen and Mia physically lifted her onto a chair, the crowd cheering.
"I don't do speeches," Gemma protested, but she was laughing.
"Do it anyway!" Frank called out. "Henry made a PowerPoint about your success!"
"I did not," Henry protested, then admitted, "It's just a few slides."
"SPEECH!" the chant continued.
Gemma looked at me, helpless. I nodded encouragingly, and she took a breath.
"Fine! Okay. Um." She surveyed the crowd, her expression softening. "Two months ago, I thought failing organic chemistry meant failing at life. I was wrong. It meantfinding out who really mattered. Who would show up at midnight with flashcards. Who would make terrible chemistry puns to keep me sane. Who would offer their homes and hearts without asking for anything in return."
Her eyes found mine. "Who would believe in me when I couldn't believe in myself."
The bar had gone quiet, everyone sensing this was more than a victory speech.
"So thank you," she continued. "All of you. For proving that chosen family is just as real as the other kind. For showing me that asking for help isn't weakness. For..." She paused, swallowing hard. "For supporting me through my worst and celebrating my best. This victory belongs to all of us."
The cheer that went up could probably be heard across campus. Gemma was mobbed with hugs, passed from person to person like a championship trophy. But her eyes kept finding mine across the crowd, promising later conversations and private celebrations.
"You know," Tyler said, appearing at my elbow with two beers, "I've never seen you play like that when scouts were watching. Usually you get all tight, overthink every pass."
"Yeah, well." I took the beer and watched Gemma trying to get away from Karen's excited hugging. "It turns out playing hockey to make someone else happy isn't as motivating as playing for what you actually want."
"And what you want includes her?"
"What I want IS her," I corrected him. "Hockey is just one part of my life now. Maybe not even the most important part anymore."
Tyler whistled. "Your dad is definitely going to lose his mind."
"Too bad it's my life, not his," I said, and I really meant it.
The celebration continued late into the night. At some point, Henry actually did reveal a PowerPoint, complete with graphs showing Gemma's grade progression. Frank led increasingly ridiculous toasts. Mia dominated at darts despite claiming she'd never played.
But the best moment came near the end, when I found Gemma outside on the patio, taking a break from the chaos. She stood at the railing, looking up at the stars, still wearing my jersey.
