Page 17 of Chasing The Goal
“Did she smile?”
“Yeah.”
“Then she was into it.”
I ran a hand over my face. “I feel like I’m in high school.”
Logan lifted his ginger beer. “High school with better hair and worse knees.”
“Thanks for the support.”
“Anytime.”
Ava leaned over and squeezed my arm. “Seriously. If you like her, ask her. Just be honest. Be you.”
I looked between them, Ava, warm and supportive, Logan, quiet and wry, and felt something in my chest loosen.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
“Damn right you will,” Ava said, turning back to the screen. “Now shut up and watch the sketch. It’s about hockey players crying during Disney movies.”
I leaned back, let myself laugh.
And thought about Mallory’s smile all over again.
Jaymie
Two weeks into PTand I was officially out of excuses. My hamstring was improving. My mobility was on the rise. I could get through most of Mallory’s sessions without cursing out loud. And I hadn’t run into her in the elevator. Which, somehow, made me even more anxious. Because I’d decided, I was going to ask her out.
I’d thought about every angle. Every outcome. Every way she could laugh, or say no, or stare at melike I’d grown a third eye. But there was also this little, annoying hope in my chest that she might say yes. That maybe,maybe, she felt even half of what I did every time we were in the same room.
The way her eyes sparkled when she caught me complaining under my breath. The way she remembered what music I liked and queued it up without asking. The way she said my name, dry, amused, but just a little soft underneath. Yeah. I was screwed.
It was right after our session, she was walking toward the door, her stride easy, her ponytail bouncing like she didn’t know I was watching. Or maybe she did. God, I hoped she did.
I caught up before I could talk myself out of it. “Hey, Mallory,” I said, my voice too loud, too quick. Nerves zipped through my chest like a powerline snapping in a storm.
She turned to me, and just like that, everything else went quiet.
It always did with her. The background noise of the facility, the slap of skates on rubber mats, the beeping monitors, the distant laughter…just dropped away. Like she existed in a pocket of space carved out just for us.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and I wanted to memorize the way she moved. “Yeah?”
I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose. Stupid habit. Nervous tell. “I was wondering if you’d want togo out sometime. Say dinner? A movie? Something that doesn’t involve foam rollers or me whining.”
She blinked, and something flickered behind her eyes. Surprise? Something softer?
But then her whole expression changed, subtle, but devastating.
Her gaze didn’t cool. It didn’t turn pitying. But it shifted.
And my stomach sank before she even said the words.
“Oh, Jaymie,” she said gently, like she already knew how much I’d want to take it back. “That’s sweet. Really.”
Sweet. I would’ve preferred a punch to the gut.
“But I, um…” She shifted her weight, her voice quiet. “I just started seeing someone. It’s really new, and… also, we work together. It might be weird.”
