16 public upgrade
By the time Coach says my name, I already know this isn't about hockey, not really.
It's right after practice, the rink still loud in that leftover way-skates dragging, sticks hitting the floor, guys talking over each other like the day isn't technically over yet. I'm halfway to the locker room when he nods toward the office.
"Jackson. Stay a second."
Declan slows next to me, immediately suspicious. "You're getting promoted or executed."
"Go away," I tell him.
"I'll be right outside," he says, like he's emotionally invested in whatever this is.
"You won't."
"I will."
He doesn't. He hovers just far enough away to pretend he's not listening, which means he's absolutely listening.
I step into the office, and it's exactly what I expected-Coach, and Dana.
Dana, who somehow always looks put together in a way that makes this feel more serious than it should. She's leaning slightly against the desk, tablet in hand, like she walked in already knowing how this conversation ends.
That's never a good sign.
"Close the door," Coach says.
I do.
Dana smiles, not fake, just... professional. Like she knows I'm not going to like this but it's happening anyway.
"We've been tracking the engagement," she says.
I lean back against the door. "That sounds like your job."
"It is," she replies easily. "And right now, you're trending."
"I'm aware."
"More than usual," she adds. "A lot more."
Coach crosses his arms. "It's good for you."
"I know."
"And it's good for the team," Dana continues. "Which means we want to lean into it."
There it is.
I nod once. "Okay."
"We need a bigger public moment," she says. "Something intentional."
"That sounds worse."
"It's strategic."
"It sounds worse," I repeat.
Coach exhales. "Homecoming."
I don't react immediately. Because-
no.
"No," I say.
"It's three weeks out," Dana says, already moving like she's presenting a plan. "Perfect timing."
"I'm not going to homecoming."
"You are if you're making an appearance," she replies.
"I don't do appearances."
"You do now."
I push off the door, taking a few steps further into the room. "This isn't part of anything we agreed to."
"This is part of managing the situation," Dana says calmly.
"It's one night," she adds. "You show up, you're seen together, it reinforces everything that's already building."
I don't like the way she says that.
Reinforces.
Like this is something real that needs maintaining.
"It's unnecessary," I say.
"It's effective," she replies.
Coach looks at me like this is already decided. "You want to play at the next level, you don't just play well. You handle attention well."
I know that.
That's the problem.
I exhale slowly. "And she's supposed to just-what?Show up?"
"Yes," Dana says simply.
"That's not how she works."
"Then you make it work."
I almost laugh at that. "Right."
Coach nods once. "Talk to her."
That's the meeting. Not a discussion.
A decision.
I leave before they can say anything else, stepping back into the hallway where Declan is exactly where I knew he'd be, leaning against the wall like he's been waiting for entertainment.
"Well?" he says immediately.
I walk past him. He follows.
"That bad?" he asks.
"Worse."
"Define worse."
I grab my bag from the bench, slinging it over my shoulder before answering. "Homecoming."
There's a pause. Then-
"Oh, that's incredible."
"It's not."
"It's actually the best possible outcome."
"For you," I say.
"For everyone," he corrects. "You two at homecoming? That's-" he gestures vaguely-"content."
"I don't care about content."
"You should," he says. "Apparently everyone else does."
I head toward the exit, pushing the door open into the warm air outside.
"She's going to say no," I add.
Declan shrugs. "Then you'll make her say yes."
"That's not how this works."
"That's exactly how this works."
I stop just long enough to look at him. "You're not helping."
"I'm not trying to help," he says. "I'm trying to enjoy this."
Of course he is.
I pull my phone out as I walk, already opening our messages. There's a second where I don't type anything. Not because I don't know what to say.
Because I know exactly what she's going to say back. Still-
The typing bubble appears almost immediately.
Of course it does.
I don't even pause.
There's a longer pause this time.
Another pause.
Longer.
Declan leans over my shoulder. "You're negotiating. That's new."
"Go away."
"I'm invested."
"You're annoying."
"Continue."
My phone buzzes again.
There's a pause. Then-
I stare at that for a second.
Declan grins. "That sounds like a yes."
"It's not a yes."
"It's definitely a yes."
I type again.
Three dots.
Gone.
Back again.
A longer pause.
Declan actually claps. "There it is."
I ignore him, but something settles slightly.
Not relief. Just... done.
She doesn't respond to that. Which means the conversation is over. Which means-
she's going.
I lock my phone, sliding it back into my pocket as I keep walking.
Declan falls into step beside me. "You didn't even have to try that hard."
"I did try."
"You barely tried."
"She was going to say yes anyway."
He glances at me. "You sound sure."
"I am."
"Interesting."
"It's not interesting."
"It is," he says. "Because you know how she reacts now."
I don't respond to that. Because-
he's not wrong.
I do know how she reacts.
I know where she pushes back, where she gives in, where she pretends she doesn't care when she actually does.
That shouldn't mean anything. It's just-
pattern recognition.
That's all.
"Three weeks," Declan says. "You excited?"
"No."
"You should be."
"I'm not."
He grins. "You will be."
"I won't."
"We'll see."
I don't answer. Because I already know how this is going to go.
She's going to complain.
Argue.
Show up anyway.
And somehow-
somewhere in the middle of all that-
it's going to work.
I don't like that part.
Not the plan.
Not the attention.
Not the way this keeps getting bigger instead of settling down.
But as I walk to my car, one thought sticks longer than it should.
Not about PR.
Not about exposure.
Just... what she's going to look like when she shows up.
And that-
is new.