“The next one should be here in five.” She reads from the tablet and then passes it to me. “Nick, a senior from Newburg High in Boston.”

I look over Nick’s information at the front desk while we wait. The scouting reports are detailed and makes me appreciate how much effort goes into recruiting athletes to Valley.

Maybe Adam and our parents downplayed it, but hockey was just sort of this thing he did. Adam never made a big deal out of touring colleges or getting a full-ride scholarship. Even when he had NHL teams inviting him to summer camps and agents asking about his plans after college, he waved it off like it was nothing. I’m not sure why he doesn’t want to go pro, but he’s wanted to be a doctor for as long as I can remember.

My thoughts briefly go to Bryan. He came to Valley and did a tour that probably looked a lot like this, too. He hadn’t made a big deal out of it either. Maybe the jocks in my life are used to being fawned over like this. Freaking jocks.

I’m only checking Bryan’s social media every other day now, a real step in the right direction from the hours I spent obsessing after we first broke up. Since I’ve started hanging out with Dakota and Reagan, I’m less jealous of his happy photos with new friends. He likes every single thing I post as if he truly believes we’re cool and going to step right back into the way we were when we see each other again.

“There he is,” Dakota says, breaking my thoughts. I look up to find Adam and Heath walking Nick through the front doors. Heath and my brother are wearing matching Valley Hockey T-shirts and jeans.

I smile and stand beside Dakota while we wait for them to approach the desk.

“Hey,” Dakota says cheerily. “You must be Nick.”

Dakota introduces me and then gives Nick a chance to use the restroom and grab a soda or water before we start. When he’s gone, Adam leans against the desk. “Hey, Ginny. First day?”

“Yep.”

“Anything we should know about him?” Dakota asks. It’s good one of us is still thinking about the job because I’m ridiculously distracted by Heath. His hair looks like he tried to manage it into a style, but the long top curls and flips in every which direction.

Adam and Dakota talk and Heath smiles at me and takes a step to the side of the desk, motioning for me to follow.

“Look at you.” His eyes scan my blue polo and khaki pants.

“Look at you,” I toss back.

He runs a hand through his hair and his smile turns sheepish. “Missed you at lunch. Guess I’m going to have to find a new lunch buddy.”

“It’s only a couple of days a week.”