Nalani
We’re dying here. DYING.
I tuck the phone closer to my chest, glancing up at the lights reflecting off the water. Then I give in with a chirp back.
Me
I’ll tell you when I’m home. But some stories are better face-to-face. This is one of them.
The chat goes quiet for a beat—rare for them—before it explodes again.
Claudia
Fine. We’ll wait. But you owe us snacks and visuals.
Sofie
And don’t think we won’t hound you until then.
Nalani
In the meantime, game update: your boy is buzzing. Two shots on net in his first shift.
I smile, glancing toward Mom, who’s still deep in conversation. My thumbs fly.
Me:
I’m at the Harbor Lighting, not exactly NHL territory.
Claudia
Harbor Lighting? Girl, you are the most wholesome person alive.
Sofie
Translation: she’s sneaking peeks on her phone every two seconds.
And, okay, they’re right. I check the score again, my heart lurching as if I’ve got skates on instead of boots crunching against a salt-dusted dock.
Nalani
You should’ve come here. It’s tradition.
She sends a selfie with her, Savannah, and Paul.Gawwww! So freaking adorable.
Me
I miss you all!
Sofiie
Duh. We miss you, too.
I laugh under my breath, earning a curious glance from Mom before tucking my phone away again. Family warmth buzzing around me, Brooklyn buzzing in my pocket. And me, caught somewhere between the two.
I excuse myself to find a restroom, where I totally watch some of the game as I pee and read the nonstop messages from the girls.
Sofie