Page 75 of The Girlfriend Goal
We lapsed into comfortable silence, the afternoon light filtering through the windows.
"Hey Rachel?" Lance said softly. "We're going to figure this out. The distance thing, the career thing, all of it. I promise."
I lifted my head to look at him. "You can't promise that. And I still have rules. We tell people on our timeline, not because we get caught or forced."
"Deal." He paused. "Although technically Jared and Matt already know."
"They don't count. They're too wrapped up in each other to notice anything else."
As if to prove my point, a rhythmic thumping started from the room next door, accompanied by muffled sounds.
"Jesus," Lance muttered. "They know we can hear them, right?"
"I don't think they care."
The thumping intensified.
"Want to get out of here?" Lance suggested. "Grab dinner in town? Like a real date?"
We dressed and snuck out like teenagers, leaving Matt and Jared to their athletic endeavors. The local restaurant was cozy and warm, and we spent hours talking. Lance made me laugh with stories from hockey road trips. I shared my thesis research on gender equity in sports management.
It was, I realized with some shock, the best date I'd ever been on. Not because it was fancy or perfectly planned, but because I got to just be myself. No performance, no careful construction of the woman I thought I should be. Just me, with all her ambitions and fears and terrible jokes.
Back at the cabin, we found Jared and Matt had finally emerged, looking thoroughly debauched and raiding the kitchen.
"Oh good, you're alive," Jared said. "We were starting to worry you'd frozen to death while having feelings in the woods."
"We went to dinner," I said. "Like normal people."
"Boring," Jared pronounced. "Matt and I had dinner in bed. Much more efficient."
"And unsanitary," I pointed out.
"Worth it," Matt said, then blushed furiously when we all looked at him. "I mean—"
"He means it was worth it," Jared said smugly. "Because I'm worth it."
"You really are," Matt agreed, looking at Jared with such naked affection that I had to look away.
Lance caught my eye, and I could see him thinking the same thing—that could be us, if we let it.
"Movie night?" he suggested. "Something with explosions and no plot?"
We settled in the living room, Lance and I on one couch, Matt and Jared practically in each other's laps on the other. It should’ve been awkward, this new dynamic where pretenses had been dropped. Instead, it felt like pieces clicking into place.
Chapter 30: Lance
Coming back to campus after the ski trip felt like returning to reality with a hangover. Rachel and I had agreed to take things slow, to figure out what we were without the pressure of labels or expectations. That lasted approximately three days before the universe decided to test every ounce of patience I possessed.
The first sign of trouble came during Monday's team meeting. Coach Stevens was running through playoff scenarios when he dropped the bomb.
"Also, we've got some transfers joining for spring conditioning. Give them the usual Greenfield welcome." He read from a list. "Brad Rogers from Cornell—"
"Brad?" Matt interrupted.
"Yeah," Coach continued, oblivious to my internal panic, "Lacrosse All-American, transferring back to Greenfield for his senior season."
The room went silent. Every teammate who knew about Rachel—which was most of them, because hockey players gossiped worse than old ladies—turned to stare at me.
