Page 134 of With the Assist

I miss this already.

The thought presses in, unwelcome but persistent. We both know tonight is the end. We’ve avoided talking about it all week, which was surprisingly easy since our mouths were usually preoccupied. But avoiding it doesn't mean anything has changed. We both have too much at risk to keep doing whatever we’ve been doing.

Coach Bennett and Todd Sawyer’s conversation about Future’s Camp echoes in my head. This is the moment I’ve been working toward for years. It’s the edge of something bigger for me and for my family.

I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let anything derail it. Especially if it’s a man who warned me that he doesn’t date seriously.

Another song starts, but instead of leaning into him like my body longs to, I pull back. “Let’s make the rounds before everyone leaves.”

He studies my face for a second, but gives up when he doesn’t seem to find what he was hoping to. “Yeah. Okay.”

We drift back toward my teammates as they start collecting coats and saying their goodbyes. The party has thinned out, and the lights are turned on a little brighter to signify the end of the event.

Haley hugs me hard and tells me she’s proud of me for reasons she doesn’t explain. Avery gives Nathan a look that’s too knowing and promises to text me tomorrow, which I refuse to acknowledge. Becca waves from across the room, already halfway out the door with her heels in her hand and her date trailing after her.

“Don’t be strangers,” Coach Bennett calls over to us, her voice warm as she leaves.

Nathan promises he won’t be, even though I know better. Strangers is all I was ever meant to be with Nathan. Two months of playing pretend doesn’t change that.

Nathan and I linger, talking to the stragglers, helping stack chairs, and thanking the staff. It feels like we’re both hoping the night will stretch on forever, until the ending we both know is coming gets lost somewhere along the way.

Eventually, even the staff starts to leave.

We grab our coats wordlessly, and my heart twists when he doesn’t reach for my hand the way he has been for weeks.

Outside, the air is cold, sobering the moment into something painful. The street glows with traffic lights and passing headlights.

Nathan stands beside me, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, shoulders hunched slightly against the cold.

We drove separately when we found out he had a late practice.

The reality of it settles heavily between us as we step onto the sidewalk. This is the part where we split. This is the part where this ends the way we planned it.

I’ve always wanted to make the National Team. To get to the World Cup. It’s what I’ve worked toward my entire life. Standing here with him, it feels like what I want and what I’ve worked for are standing on opposite sides of the street, daring me to choose.

Nathan turns toward me, his expression already serious.

“So, I guess this is…” he starts.

I cut him off. “It’s not midnight.”

My words are rushed and half incoherent. They slip out without rational thought holding them back.

He blinks. “Wes—”

“It’s not midnight yet,” I say, firmer this time. “The day's not over.”

For a second, he looks at me as if trying to decide if I’m serious or if this is a cruel joke. Then his mouth curves into a small, surprised smile.

“So, what should we do for the last hour of our fake relationship?” His lips tilt up mischievously as he steps closer to me. He’s not even touching me, but my body reacts anyway.

This. This is what I needed.

I nod toward the hotel across the street. It’s not fancy, but it’s right here, towering over us. The windows glow warmly against the dark like a beacon.

“Come on,” I say.

His eyes darken, and his shoulders relax. “I’d follow you anywhere.”