Page 7 of Sticks & Serpents

“Hey everyone! I’m Daphne Samuels, and I’m thrilled to be heading this year’s charity hockey game planning committee.” She beamed, her enthusiasm infectious.

I leaned back in my chair, trying to appear engaged while battling the tightness in my chest. The mention of the charity game sent a ripple of anxiety through me.

Daphne continued, “This event is a huge deal for Crestwood. It’s our chance to showcase our affiliation with the NHL and raise money for Hockey is For All, a program that promotes and gets hockey into places that might not otherwise see it, including the inner-city. Every year, we see exceptional donations come in. This time, especially with Brett Sinclaire as our sponsor?—”

At the mention of Damien's father's name, my stomach lurched. I focused on my notes, willing myself not to react.

“—we’re expecting even more fans this year," she added, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “The game always draws a crowd.”

“What kind of activities do we have planned besides the game?" Freya piped up from beside her, her voice animated. “Can we do something interactive?”

“Absolutely! We’ll have food trucks and a few games during intermission,” Daphne replied enthusiastically. “But most importantly, each committee member will be paired with a player to help coordinate logistics on game day.”

A wave of apprehension washed over me at that announcement.

“What if you get stuck with someone who doesn’t want to cooperate?” Sam asked, crossing his arms skeptically.

“Good question!” Daphne replied cheerfully. “We’ll make sure everyone is motivated to contribute because it’s for a great cause. That's part of the expectation as a player.”

I shifted in my seat, trying to focus on the conversation instead of the impending dread that loomed over me.

“What exactly are we supposed to do with our player?” I asked, glancing at Daphne. “Like, what’s our role?”

Her green eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “Great question! You’ll touch base with them regularly, send reminders about meetings and events, help get them fitted for their tuxedos—it’s almost like being their assistant. The idea is to keep them on track since players often get so caught up in the game that they overlook the social and community aspects.”

I nodded, absorbing her explanation. It made sense, but it also meant I’d be in close proximity to one of those players—including possibly Damien. Just thinking about it sent a jolt of anxiety through me.

Daphne turned toward my dad, who had been quietly observing us from next to me. “Is there anything you’d like to say, sir?” she asked, her voice upbeat.

He stood slowly, and I felt a familiar pride swell in my chest as he straightened his posture. My father had a strong build, weathered face that hinted at wisdom and experience earned through years of hard work. He cleared his throat and surveyed the room with an air of authority that instantly commanded attention.

“Thank you all for being here,” he began, his voice steady yet warm. “This is my first year as dean, and I want to ensure this event runs smoothly.” His gaze flickered around the table before settling back on us. “The success of this charity game is crucial for securing our annual funding from the NHL. It’s not just a game; it’s an opportunity for Crestwood.”

A wave of seriousness swept through the room as we absorbed his words. He paused for effect, letting his message sink in before continuing.

“I trust each of you will put your best effort into this.” He leaned forward slightly, a hint of urgency creeping into his tone. “If we do this right, it reflects not only on our college but on all of you as future leaders in this community.”

As my dad wrapped up his speech, the air in the room buzzed with a mix of anticipation and tension. I shifted in my chair, my fingers drumming nervously against the table. The last thing I wanted was to be paired with someone who would complicate things further—someone like Damien.

Actually, the only person I didn't want to be paired with was Damien.

Daphne glanced down at her clipboard, a mischievous grin breaking across her face. “Okay, everyone! Time for assignments!”

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. The thought of being linked to one of the players sent my mind racing back to memories I had buried deep. I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever name came next could turn this summer upside down.

“First up,” she began, reading from her list, “Lucy Chen will be paired with Jason Lee from Minnesota.” A round of applause followed as everyone cheered for their friend.

I focused on breathing as she continued through the names, each pairing sending another wave of anxiety coursing through me.

“Next is Sam Peters with Ryan Smith.” Another round of cheers echoed in the room.

Finally, Daphne cleared her throat and looked directly at me. “And Holly Walker will be working with... Logan Hartley.”

Relief washed over me like a cool breeze on a hot day. Logan was safe—steady—everything I needed right now. He had been nothing but kind during our kind-of dating. Nothing was official, but we had texted and gone out a couple of times.

I forced myself to focus on the discussion, jotting down notes as Daphne rattled off ideas. The tension in my shoulders slowly eased as I immersed myself in the planning.

“All right, so we need some exciting raffle items,” Daphne said, her enthusiasm infectious. “Any thoughts?”

---