“Thanks. Hopefully not the last time I get a hat trick.” Then I lean down close to her ear. “Maybe we can celebrate with a hat trick of our own.”

She blushes and pulls back. I accept a hug from my mom and a handshake from Kevin and from Mr. Scott.

“We should celebrate.” Adam claps me on the shoulder. “What do you feel like doing?”

Your sister.

Mav steps up, his bag slung over his body. “Party at our place. Invite the ’rents. Let’s get weird.”

“I think we’ll pass. Let you guys celebrate on your own.” Mr. Scott wraps an arm around his wife, who nods her agreement. “We have reservations for dinner.” She looks to my mom and Kevin. “Would you like to join us?”

“I think that sounds great,” Kevin says. “What do you say, Lana?”

More of the parents make plans and the guys start heading out.

Ginny’s still standing by my side, and I have the strongest urge to grab her hand.

“I’m going to find Reagan and Dakota. See you later?”

“Ride over with me.”

“But?” She glances around. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, no one will notice or care. Just give me a couple minutes to say goodbye to my mom.”

“Okay.”

My mom walks over to us before I get the chance to go to her.

Ginny smiles at her and then me. “See ya.”

Mom watches her leave, only speaking once we’re alone. A sad expression on her face as she lowers her voice. “I should have come alone and not brought Kevin. I wanted you to meet him to see that I’m happy. I thought it would give you some peace, but I see now that was my own selfish reasoning and I’m sorry. This isn’t how I wanted this weekend to go.”

“It isn’t Kevin. It’s us. I don’t know how to do this with you.” I motion between us. “Everything is so different.”

“I know. But I still love you just the same. I’m so proud of you.”

Love. I hate that damn word. Why does it always feel like it’s an excuse? When she says it, all I hear is, I love you, so it’s okay that I screwed up.

“Thanks, Mom. I am glad you came.”

Kevin steps up behind her. “Nice game, Heath.”

“Thanks.”

The hall has cleared, and we start toward the door. Mom hugs me tightly before we head our separate ways. “Be safe.”

I hug her back. She’s heavier now, no longer the small, fragile thing she once was. “I will. I’ll call next week.”

She nods and smiles, maybe a little disbelieving that I really will.

Ginny leans against my vehicle, her phone in hand. It’s dark and she’s all alone and I feel like an ass for making her wait for me out here like this.