Page 46 of The Girlfriend Goal
Her head snapped up. "I'm not scared."
"Prove it. Stop running and stay. Talk, not deflect and retreat."
She stared at me for a long moment. "I have film to review."
I sighed. "Of course you do."
"But..." She bit her lip. "Maybe we could review it together? If you're interested in learning about soccer defensive strategies, for comparison."
It was the smallest opening, but I'd take it. "I'm very interested in defensive strategies."
"It's not a date. We're just watching film, and you have to leave by eleven. I have a morning practice."
We walked the rest of the way in silence, but it was different now. Filled with possibility instead of denial. When we reached her building, she paused at the door.
"That really was a good hit on Thompson, but still too caveman." But she was fighting a smile. "Come on. I'll show you what real defense looks like."
I followed her inside, trying not to feel like I'd won something important. It wasn't a date. We were just watchingfilm. But she'd stopped running, even if just for tonight. It was a start.
Chapter 18: Rachel
"I can't afford a plane ticket."
The words tasted bitter as I forced them out during my weekly video call home. My parents' faces pixelated on my laptop screen, their disappointment carefully masked behind understanding smiles.
"We can help," Mom started.
"No." I cut her off, gentler than intended. "You've done enough. I'll be fine here. Lots of international students stay for Thanksgiving. It's like a whole thing."
Dad frowned, the construction dust in his hair catching the light. He'd been pulling overtime again. "You shouldn't be alone on holidays."
"I won't be alone. Jared invited me to his family's place in Boston."
The lie came easier than expected. Jared had invited me, but I'd already decided against it. Plus, he'd somehow roped Matt into coming, and I didn't need a front-row seat to their weird mating dance.
"If you're sure." Mom didn't look convinced.
We talked for another twenty minutes, dancing around the truth we all knew—that their sacrifice to put me through school, even with my scholarship, left no room for extras like holiday flights. When we hung up, I stared at my reflection in the black screen and tried not to cry.
My apartment felt too quiet. I pulled up my accounting spreadsheet, the one I updated obsessively. Tuition was covered by scholarship. Books were manageable with the usedbookstore. Food was with the dining hall meal plan. But flights home? That was pure luxury I couldn't justify.
My phone buzzed with Jared’s text:Sure you’re not coming to Boston? Mom wants to know about dietary restrictions.
Can't make it. Training stuff.
Three dots appeared immediately, but soon disappeared. Then my door burst open because apparently, Jared had been texting from right outside.
"Liar!" He pointed an accusing finger. "You're not staying for training. You're staying because you're too proud to admit you can't afford the plane home."
"How did you—"
"Because I know you, Rachel. And I know that face." He flopped dramatically on my bed. "The 'I'm pretending everything's fine while internally screaming' face."
"I don't have a face."
"You have multiple faces. This is face number three, right between 'I'm going to murder Lance' and 'I want to climb Lance like a tree.'"
"Jared!"
