St. Paul, Minnesota
The last time I went to the Frozen Four, it was to cheer for my dadâs all-star crew: Garrett Graham, Summerâs brother Dean, and the two JohnsâLogan and Tucker. And they won the whole damn thing. I was happy, of course, but nowhere near as ecstatic as I am during this Harvard versus Ohio State game.
The score is 3â1, Harvard. There are five minutes left. It only takes a second to score a goal, so yes, we donât have it in the bag. Itâs not a guaranteed win, and Iâm not sitting here counting my chickens before they hatch. But I have a good feeling about it.
Beside me, Jakeâs parents, Lily and Rory Connelly, are cheering themselves hoarse. Theyâre actually pretty fun to watch a hockey game withâLily gasps any time anything happens, literally anything; Rory, after every hit, winces and proclaims, âWell, thatâs gonna hurt tomorrow.â You can tell theyâre not huge hockey fans. They donât know much about the rules and they donât seem to care. But any time Jake has the puck, theyâre on their feet screaming their lungs out.
I wish Dad were here, but heâs watching the game at home in Hastings. However, he did call in a favor and arrange for this private box for us, which means we have the best seats in the houseâ¦and lots of privacy for Jakeâs folks to cross-examine me.
During both intermissions, the questions came hard and fast.
Where did you meet Jake?
How long have you been together?
You know heâs moving to Edmonton, right?
Do you think maybe youâll move there, too?
You could transfer schools, his mother had said, her expression so hopeful that I almost laughed.
When they turned their attention to the ice, I glanced at Jakeâs friend Hazel and asked, âAre they always like this?â
She smiled wryly, answering, âThis is kind of a big deal for them. Jakeâs never had a real girlfriend.â
Okay, fine, Iâm not going to lieâit warms my heart that Iâm the first girl to meet Jakeâs parents. Hazel doesnât count; they treat her like a daughter. And, Iâll be honest, the girlâs been making an effort. Sheâs asked me about my classes, my interests, as if she genuinely wants to get to know me.
She doesnât like hockey, though, and thatâs always a strike. I still canât believe Iâm watching the most important game in menâs college hockey with three people who donât like hockey. Figure that one out. On the bright side, my dad has been texting all evening with his thoughts on the game, which is nice.
I like our relationship now. Itâs easy. And I havenât heard from Eric since the night we went to rescue him. Heâs barely even crossed my mind, in fact. Iâm finally putting that part of my life behind me and focusing on whatâs in front of me.
And whatâs in front of me is incredible. Itâs Jake, traveling like lightning across the glossy surface of the ice. One minute heâs at the center line with the puck, the next heâs in front of the crease taking a shot.
âGOALLLLLLL!â yells the announcer.
The entire arena goes absolutely bananas. Itâs 4â1 now. Maybe Iâm starting to count those chickens, after all. At least a couple of them. The eggs are cracking, anyway, and I can see a beak. Those chicks are coming, because itâs 4â1 and Harvardâs got this. My manâs got this.
Jakeâs family is on their feet again, screaming. So am I. My phone buzzes about ten times in my pocket. Itâs probably my father. Or maybe Summer, whoâs also at home, watching the game with Fitz and the others, including Nate, whoâs my friend again. Hell, the texts could even be from Hollis. Heâs been very chatty with me since I saved his relationship with Rupi. Theyâre officially together now, and he really seems to enjoy telling people he has a girlfriend.
Which makes me wonder if, like Jake, Hollis never had one before. Either way, Iâm happy for him. Rupi is nuts, but in a good way.
The clock winds down. I watch it with pure joy stuck in my throat, in my chest, in my heart. Jake deserves this. He deserves to end his college career with such a major win. He played brilliantly tonight, and I know heâs going to be equally brilliant in Edmonton.
As the buzzer goes off, the rest of Jakeâs teammates fly off the bench and swarm the ice, and itâs pandemonium. The boys are overjoyed. Even Pedersen looks genuinely happy. Not in a smug âwe won na-na-na-na-na-naâ way. In this moment, I can tell Daryl Pedersen actually loves his players and this game. He might play it dirtier than most, but he loves it just like the rest of us.
My phone buzzes again. I finish hugging Jakeâs parents and then reach to check it. I assume itâs from my dad, but itâs a voice-mail alert. Which tells me the previous buzzing was a phone call. And either Iâm hallucinating or that actually says ESPN on the caller display. Probably a telemarketer with one of those speechesââIs your cable provider giving you all that ESPN has to offer?â
But a telemarketer wouldnât leave a message. Would they?
âGuys, excuse me for one sec.â I touch Lilyâs arm and walk several feet away to check the message.
The moment the caller says her name, I almost faint.
âBrenna. Hi. Itâs Georgia Barnes. Sorry to call you on a Saturday evening, but Iâm working late to organize my new office. I wanted to touch base with you now, because starting Monday Iâll be absolutely swamped. I got your number from Mischa Yanikov, the stage manager at HockeyNet. But letâs keep that between us, because I donât know if grabbing your number off your résumé and giving it to a competitor was all that kosher. But itâll be our little secret.â
My heart starts beating faster. Why is Georgia Barnes calling me? And what does she mean sheâs at her new office? At ESPN? Does she work there now?
Her next sentence solves that mystery.
âAnyway, the press release hasnât gone out yet, but Iâve officially left HockeyNet. ESPN made me an offer and, letâs just say Iâd be stupid not to accept it. Theyâre letting me hire my own assistant, and Iâd love for you to come in and interview for the position. If you do get the job, Iâm aware youâre still in college, so obviously in the fall we would need to discuss a schedule that suits you better. Maybe this could be a work placement orâIâm getting ahead of myself. For all I know, you interview terribly and thatâs why Ed Mulder let you go. But I have a feeling thatâs not the case.â
Her confident chuckle makes me smile.
âAnyway, give me a call when you get this.â She recites her number. âIâd love to schedule an interview. I think youâd be a good fit for this position. All right. Talk soon. Take care.â
The message ends and I stare at my phone in shock.
âEverything okay?â Hazel comes up beside me.
âItâs fine.â I shake my head a few times. âItâs all good.â
All good? No. Itâs better than I could ever imagine. I have an interview at ESPN to work as Georgia Barnesâs assistant. And Jake just won the national championship. This is the greatest day of my life.
All I want to do now is get downstairs so that mine is the first face Jake sees when he exits the locker room. Iâm officially his groupie. But thatâs okay, because heâs my groupie. We root for each other. Weâre good for each other. And I canât wait to find out what the future holds for us.
The End