Page 94 of Chasing The Goal
“I miss him.”
“I know.”
“He was here for a few days. I already forgot how to function without him.”
“You haven’t,” Ava says. “You just haven’t had to do this part alone yet. You’re adjusting. That doesn’t mean you’re failing. ”
I blink back fresh tears. “You’re going to make me cry again.”
“Totally the hormones,” she says quickly, reaching for a tissue and handing it to me like a pro. “No way it’s my incredible empathy and dazzling charisma.”
I laugh and dab at my cheeks. “It’s both.”
"But seriously, if you need help or just a friend, call when he's gone. I don't mind coming over and all." she reassured me.
Lola lets out a soft sigh, her face still smug, her fists twitching in her sleep.
“She’s ridiculous,” Ava murmurs. “And adorable. Like, it almost makes me question things.”
I raise an eyebrow.
She lifts both hands. “I said almost.”
Jaymie
Sunlight dapples through thebudding trees overhead, scattering gold across the path in shifting patterns. The concrete is still damp from last night’s rain, and every few steps I catch the faint scent of wet earth, lilacs from the overgrown bushes that edge the playground, and fresh coffee from the cart parked near the park’s entrance.
Lola is asleep in the stroller, her little face turned toward the warmth of the sun, one fist tucked up by her cheek like she’s deep in dream negotiations. Mallory walking beside me, slow but steady, her hand brushing mine, her gaze scanning the horizon like she’s still calibrating to being upright and outside.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods, but her voice is soft. “It feels like I’ve been inside for weeks. This… this helps.”
I squeeze her hand. “It’s good to see you in real clothes.”
“I’m still wearing your sweatpants.”
“They count.”
A breeze stirs the new leaves overhead, and a few petals drift past us from a flowering tree like pink confetti. The park isn’t crowded—just a few parents pushing strollers, a runner looping past with earbuds in, a kid in a red hoodie flinging bread crumbs at a cluster of ducks like he’s their king.
We stop near a low railing that overlooks the duck pond, the water glinting greenish-blue in the sun. I park the stroller in the shade and lean into Mallory’s side. The air feels charged in a quiet, perfect way. Like the pause between songs on a record.
“Hey, champions!”
Ava’s voice cuts through the birdsong and the distant hum of traffic. She and Logan stroll toward us from the other end of the path, both of them carrying iced coffees and looking disgustingly well-rested. Ava’s in a soft denim jacket over a crop top, hair braided back and sunglasses perched on her head. Logan’s got his backwards cap on, HellBlades hoodie zipped halfway, and a pastry bag swinging from one hand.
“We brought sustenance,” Ava calls, lifting the bag like an offering. “Also, I demand baby time.”
Mallory laughs, already reaching for the stroller’s brake. “She’s all yours, but I warn you—she’s recently pooped and might be storing another surprise.”
“I live dangerously,” Ava says, scooping Lola up like a pro and nuzzling her cheek. “Oh my god. She smells like baby shampoo and powder.”
Logan gives me a look. “She’s already got Ava wrapped around her tiny fingers.”
“I’m not even mad about it,” I admit. “It’s nice seeing her win someone else over for once.”
We settle on a long, weathered bench overlooking the water. Ava sits cross-legged, Lola resting in her arms, while Mallory leans back beside me, her hand brushing mine again. Logan and I hover near the railing, watching a duck chase its reflection in circles.
