The last game of the regular season was about to commence and the graduating seniors had just celebrated their Senior Night. As per Cannondale tradition, all of the seniors wore blue ribbons in their hair and received a bouquet of flowers alongside their parents and or guardians. They also had their moment in the spotlight when they ran through the lacrosse stick tunnel of their teammates' making while their name was announced over the loudspeaker. Colorful posters and big head cut-outs dotted the bleachers as well as blue and white balloons that swayed in the evening breeze.

It was all very cute and festive, but I was having a hard time actually appreciating it because I couldn't stop looking at my parents, who sat together on the Cannondale bleachers. Thankfully, I wasn't the only one who'd taken note of this development.

"Seeing your parents together is kind of jarring," Kelsey said as we lined up to get the pockets of our lacrosse sticks examined by the referee. "Is this the new normal?"

"I haven't a clue," I answered without looking up at her. I needed to concrete on adjusting my pocket's top shooting string before I reached the front of the line. "Every time I look over there, I almost expect to see one of them beheading the other."

"That's a horrifying visual, Chan." Macallan chimed in from where she stood in front of us in line. The golden hour light gave her perfect blonde ponytail an almost angelic glow, and it wasn't a surprise when her stick passed the routine check. Angels like Macallan never had an illegal pocket.

As Macallan peeled off from the line, I stepped forward to the referee and handed her my stick. I caught myself holding my breath as she plopped the yellow ball into its pocket and held it up at eye level to examine it for what felt like far longer than necessary.

The legality of my pocket really should've been straightforward, but I knew that my reputation as a draw specialist preceded me. The referees who'd been in the rotation all season long were acutely aware that my pocket was valuable and often contentious. In every game I'd scored a hat trick this season, the other team's head coach requested that I have my pocket checked at least once.

At long last, the referee returned my stick with a thin smile and ushered me to step aside so that Kelsey could take my place.

"Thank you." I cast another glance at the bleachers as I returned to our bench. While I'd known that Mom and Dad planned to attend tonight's game, I hadn't considered the possibility that they'd sit together.

After briefly entertaining the added possibility of one of them blackmailing the other, I devoted my focus to what mattered most right now - winning the game and breaking the school record for most draw controls won in a season.

Even though it was my own record that I would be breaking, this was my chance to prove to myself that I was unstoppable. A force to be reckoned with. That no matter how hard anonymous teenage villains tried to tarnish my reputation, they couldn't touch my lacrosse skills. They couldn't touch what was and what would be my legacy.

✘ ✘ ✘

In my experience, the best plays to run were the ones that had contingency plans built into them. If you couldn't connect with one of your teammates cutting through the 8-meter, you better have the confidence to drive to the cage and fire off a shot or bring the ball behind to reset.

Kelsey had the ball at the top-right corner of the 12-meter arc, practically tap-dancing in her turfs as she toyed with her defender while keeping her eyes on the rest of our offense. She knew how to set the tone and settle the rest of us into a rhythm that wasn't rushed but also wasn't slow.

Everything about our offense was calculated, including the pick I set on Kelsey's defender. It set her free to drive hard to the cage.

"Crash!" the defender called out, but it was too late.

I turned my head in time to see Kelsey fake high before firing off a shot into the lower right-hand side. Despite having watched Kelsey score countless times, there was something magical and effortless about her stickwork, making her seem more polished than me and my scrappy playing style.

But that made us such a lethal offensive duo and what made assisting her goal-scoring just as rewarding as scoring two of my own back in the first half of the game.

"You and Chan make it look easy," Macallan said as our offense rallied around Kelsey, who smiled through her mouth guard. She would make a great captain. I had no doubts about that. 

The score was now 10 - 5, Cannondale, with just under nine minutes remaining. This was a comfortable lead, so it didn't surprise me that Coach Mayer subbed Kelsey and Macallan out for senior players during the transition back to center field. It was Senior Night, after all.

I didn't get subbed out, and everyone who mattered knew why. I was one draw control away from breaking my record. I currently sat at 84 draw controls, and while I knew I would inevitably break it, I wanted it now. There was something inherently satisfying and impressive about getting it on the first available try. Something legendary.

I stood at the center of the draw circle and casually twirled my lacrosse stick, the worn black tape on the shaft soft beneath my fingertips. I didn't need to look over at the bleachers to know that Mom and Dad had their focus locked in on me.

Only one thought circulated in my mind as the referee positioned the ball between my pocket and my counterpart from Deerfield Academy: win the draw, rule the world.

I reacted the instant the whistle cut through the air, pulling my stick upward to draw to myself like the record-holding Cannondale athlete that I was and would continue to be.

I had to squint into the brilliant rays of golden hour to locate the ball, but no amount of violent light would stop me. I secured the ball in seconds and protectively cradled it until I was out of the circle and running over the restraining line.

There was a relatively clear path to the cage and I acted on instinct. I'd secured my record, but why stop there? Sometimes the only difference between a good athlete and a great one was knowing when to go for it. To take the risk. To take control. To take the inch given and turn it into a mile.

I entered the 8-meter arc before any defender could stop me, firing off a left-handed shot I knew was a goal the second I released it. I felt it in the follow-through. But the whistle that followed was a triumphant confirmation.

I was so fired up on adrenaline that I hardly processed that a Deerfield defender stood in front of me.

''Congratulations,'' she said with an unmistakably genuine smile.

I slipped out my mouth guard to reciprocate it. "Thank you,'' I replied breathlessly,

My teammates didn't make an excessive scene on the field, but I wouldn't have wanted that from them. This was my moment, one I was happy to celebrate quietly. Having accomplished what I'd set out to do, Coach Mayer subbed me out and embraced me once I arrived on the sidelines.

''Way to go, Chan,'' she praised. ''You've earned that.''

I thanked her, smiling so wide that my cheeks ached. Pride and relief outweighed every other emotion I'd felt throughout the week. There was no stress or uncertainty tainting this moment.

It was mine and no one could take that away from me.

✘ ✘ ✘

There was no avoiding an interview with The Russell Report or enduring the heaps of self-serving compliments and silly photographs with Chris Vale. I'd be shocked to learn of another high school athletic director who was more of a buffoon than him. The only upside to my participation was that I dodged Caroline Drake and her undoubtedly petty line of questioning.

As I made my way over to the bleachers to meet my parents, I couldn't help but feel a little bit relieved that the boys' varsity lacrosse team had an Away game tonight. Perhaps it was better that Trip literally couldn't be here.

"Chan!" Dad greeted me with open arms that I walked directly in to hug him. The smell of old books, expensive ink, and minty gum enveloped me. ''I need a megaphone. I need to tell everyone that my daughter broke her own record for getting 85 draw controls.''

''Please don't,'' I laughed into the soft fabric of his dress shirt before stepping back to smile up at him. ''I would be so embarrassed.''

He chuckled. ''That would be part of the fun.''

I shook my head and found my smile intact as I turned to Mom. She stood slightly behind Dad, looking casually immaculate in light-wash jeans, a black blazer, and Gucci tennis shoes. She hesitated to reach for me, but I didn't.

Still coasting on adrenaline, I hugged her. It was the kind of two-armed, award-winning type of hug that I hadn't given her in years and probably wouldn't do again anytime soon, but that didn't matter. I'd wanted to hug my mother, so I did.

Mom kissed the top of my head. The smell of her summery floral perfume conjured a visual of the dainty glass bottle of Jo Malone perfume that once sat on her vanity at the Nantucket house. I used to steal it when I'd go out with Dallas Gunther.

''I've missed watching you play,'' she said, her eyes sparkling. ''I'm so proud of you it hurts.''

A laugh forced its way past the sudden knot of emotion in my throat. ''Happy to hear that I'm causing you pain.''

Mom gave me an amused look that essentially said, this is exactly the kind of daughter that I wanted to raise. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part.

After telling my parents that I needed to drop my gear and retrieve my weekend duffle bag from Roosevelt, I rejoined my friends to leave the turf. Now that the regular season had officially ended, we could really start talking about the playoffs. The league would finalize the rankings and release the schedule next week. We had a record of 14-1, making us the No. 2 seed behind the undefeated Silvermine.

''When is Trip supposed to get back?'' Gianna asked as we walked past the path that led up to the stadium. From this angle, I could see a few field hockey players taking advantage of the absence of the boys' varsity lacrosse team on a Friday evening.

''After I leave,'' I said, deflating a little. Despite everything, I decided I would've loved to have had Trip attend the game. ''Their bus will get stuck in traffic, and I think he's getting dinner with the guys.''

Trip hadn't mentioned anything about dinner, but Grayson wouldn't shut up in AP Calc today about some burrito place he was itching to go to after the game with the other seniors. I typically wouldn't treat Grayson as a credible source, but the case of post-game food felt like an exception, and it would be silly to think that Trip wouldn't be partaking in that. After all, he was a captain.

Kelsey scanned us into Roosevelt and Gianna departed when we hit the second floor to go to her single and shower. While I'd told my parents I would meet them in the visitors' parking lot in fifteen minutes, I couldn't resist the all-powerful allure of my bed and planned to take a five-minute cat nap to prepare for the journey back to Beacon Hill. I was still fired up on adrenaline, but I also wanted to lie down.

Just as the three of us reached our door, Kelsey threw herself in front of it. She posed as though she was a bouncer at a club.

''You can't go in,'' she told me.

''At least not yet,'' Macallan added, playfully bumping her hip against mine. ''Now turn around and wait here so we can make sure everything is in order.''

I looked between the two of them, noting their conspiratory expressions. ''You're not giving me much of a choice, now are you?''

''You actually have no choice," Kelsey corrected.

With narrowed eyes, I resigned myself to whatever my fate was about to be and spun around. The door opened and closed again no more than a second later.

I spent the next few minutes waiting in the hallway and thinking of what Macallan and Kelsey could be planning. A few girls on the floor came and left, waving to me as they went about their Friday evening plans. When one of them asked if I'd locked myself out, I informed them that my roommates had temporarily banished me and to carry on.

I'd started pacing, aimlessly swinging my lacrosse stick about, when the door finally opened.

''You can come in now, Chan,'' Kelsey called out in a sing-song voice, holding the door open with one hand.

''Excellent. I was really starting to think you'd disowned me,'' I bemoaned and marched through the doorway.

But I barely crossed the threshold before stopping so suddenly that Kelsey bumped into my back. She laughed as she stepped around me and joined Macallan, who grinned like a devil from the bottom bunk.

I assumed the reason for this was the same reason why I remained frozen in place.

''Hi, Chan.''

Trip McKenna sat in my desk chair, still wearing his blue Away jersey and was smiling that effortless half-smile of his. It shouldn't have felt so jarring to realize that I'd desperately missed seeing that smile, but it did, and I couldn't help but smile back at him.

"You're back." I was so starstruck by his presence that I almost didn't notice what was next to him on the desk. Almost.

The white heart-shaped cake had Happy 85 DCs written in royal blue icing. The letters curled neatly, though some were more wobbly-looking than others. It was clear that whoever decorated it had taken their time.

''We lent him a key and he smuggled himself in through the side door. That camera's been out since last week,'' Kelsey said, looking exceptionally proud of herself.

''Which we confirmed was still the case today,'' Macallan added.

''How conniving of you guys,'' I joked as I finally willed myself to move further into the room, and came to stand beside Trip. As I inspected the cake beside him, a serious expression settled onto my features. ''Did you do this?''

''We can skip the theatrics,'' Trip said with a chuckle. ''Yes, I baked this cake. And yes, I am aware I don't have a future as a pastry chef.''

"And as much as we'd love to stick around to try some, we're going to go badger Gianna in her room,'' Kelsey smirked, looping an arm through one of Macallan's.

My heart swelled with affection as they hugged me on their way out of the room. It was hard to believe I had friends like them, and even harder to believe that we would have to leave our days together as roommates behind. They were the sisters I never had.

When the door shut behind them, it left Trip and me alone for the first time since that night in his bedroom. When I closed my eyes, I could still feel the excruciating heaviness of the silence that had fallen between us. I didn't dare to give it the opportunity to settle this time.

''Hi,'' I said softly, hoping he couldn't hear how close my heart was to bursting through my jersey.

''Hey,'' Trip replied, grinning up at me. The coldness he'd exuded all week melted away as he took ahold of my hands and gave them an affectionate squeeze. ''Congratulations.''

"Thank you." Banishing my nerves, I sat on his lap with my legs on either side of him, grateful that the chair didn't have arms. "How did you get back?"

''My mom came to the game, so she drove me back afterwards.''

''That was nice of her...and you.'' I nodded to the cake. ''This is the best-looking cake I've ever seen. I almost don't want to cut it.''

''Oh, we are most definitely cutting it,'' Trip said, his voice taking on a mock-serious tone. ''I wore a hair net in the dining hall kitchen to bake this thing. A hair net, Chan. ''

My jaw dropped and a genuine laugh escaped me. ''Please tell me you have a picture.''

''Nope.'' Trip shook his head. ''It was a covert operation.''

''How did you get access to the kitchen?''

''I told the staff I wanted to bake my girlfriend a congratulatory cake and asked if I could come in during my afternoon free period. I brought everything I needed, so they said yes.'' Trip gave a nonchalant shrug, though the corner of his mouth quirked up. ''But it also helps that I'm pretty well-liked.''

''I'm painfully aware of that.'' I sighed and ran my hands down the front of his jersey. ''I need to message my parents. They're waiting for me...like, together. I'm sure they can survive a little longer, but I want to let them know I need more time.''

''No need. Macallan texted your dad the details.''

I arched an eyebrow. ''What kind of details?''

''The surprise cake details.''

''Good.'' A wry smile worked its way onto my lips and I reached up to gently stroke his cheek. ''He doesn't need to know everything.''

I fully intended to kiss him senseless, but Trip had other plans.

''There's something else too.'' Trip bent down and pulled a neatly folded piece of paper from his backpack. He handed it to me with a shy, almost bashful smile. ''I wrote this on the drive back. I didn't have any blank sheets in my playbook binder, so it's on the back of an old offensive template.''

''What is this?'' I laughed as I unfolded it.

Trip shook his head and kissed me lightly, his lips lingering on mine before he said, ''It's better if you just read.''

I nodded and started to read. I immediately noted that it was a long list and had no title.

1. you're just as competitive as i am

2. you know all the lyrics to Semi-Charmed Life

3. i've learned a lot of niche history facts because you make references every day

4. we play lacrosse together

5. you're aggressively loyal

6. you make me blush when you play with my rings

7. you don't like the New England Patriots

8. the way you say my name, even when you're irritated

9. you watch Netflix with the subtitles on

10. you also have your read receipts on

11. the playlist that you made for me with only sad Taylor Swift songs...

The list went on and on with words that made me believe that this was what it felt like to believe that the stars had aligned. The adrenaline charging through me earlier paled in comparison to what I felt now. The feeling consumed every part of me, leaving my heart racing and extinguishing every doubtful thought in my head.

The list stopped at 85 and so did my heart for a solid moment.

85. that even without these 84 reasons I'd still love you

''Trip,'' I breathed out his name like a one-word prayer. I was still staring at the list, still taking it all in, when Trip brought a hand beneath my chin and gently tilted my face upward, bringing my eyes to his.

''I love you.''

I hadn't realized what those three words could do until now. Hope struck a match inside me, burning with an intensity I never thought possible. It was an emotion so pure it could seduce angels. It didn't matter that I didn't know where we would go from here, not when I knew that this was what it felt like to know something with all the clarity the world had to offer.

''I love you too.''

✘ ✘ ✘

this chapter has my whole heart (and so does our lacrosse superstar and pastry chef)

i hope you're in your feelings too xx