Out for the Holidays and Out for Gold (Out in College 8.5)

“Chadwick, how’s that shoulder?” he asked from his perch on the wall.

“It’s about to fall off. I need you to score nine goals and play wicked defense in the next sixty-two seconds. Can you do that, man?” I joked.

Crowley melted under the water theatrically before resurfacing with a sigh. “Yep. I can do this.”

“Hey, Dane, don’t beat yourself up.”

His face clouded unhappily. “We didn’t come to lose.”

“We came to play hard. It’s not over. Just give it your best shot. That’s all you can do,” I coached. “You’ll be back in four years, kid. You’re not losing, you’re learning.”

Crowley gave a short nod and put his game face on, ready for battle. I swam over to bump his fist, then glanced up at the stands.

I spotted my dad right away. He wore red, white, and blue and a ridiculous baseball cap with my number on it that Cam and his little brother, Connor, had designed. Dad and his wife and my brothers waved and cheered like maniacs. I grinned then scanned their row, looking for Derek.

Der had gotten to know my dad and his family well over the past week or so. They were staying at the same hotel, and according to the occasional text messages and phone calls in between practices and games, they’d eaten a lot of meals and had even done some sightseeing together.

My past month, on the other hand, had been filled with qualification matches and endless travel. I hadn’t seen much of anyone other than my teammates, and I missed my man like crazy.

A few seconds before the whistle blew, I spotted him, second-row center.

Derek didn’t cheer or yell…he just smiled. I could practically hear his voice in my ear, “You’re here. You’ve got this.” That was all I needed.

And when the whistle blew, I swam like demons were coming for me.

News flash, we lost.

Was I disappointed? Yes and no.

I would have loved to bring home a medal. Coming in first was always my goal. But somewhere along the way, my definition of winning had changed.

Winning to me wasn’t standing on a podium. Winning was looking up at the stands and seeing my loved ones cheering me on. And knowing the ones who couldn’t be here—like my mom, who was terrified of flying—were watching me at home. I had a lot of love and goodwill in my life. It was a good foundation for something far more valuable than gold.

Lofty thoughts for a guy who was literally packing a wet towel in his bag on his way to take press photos for posterity. I followed my teammates down a wide corridor and into a plain, light-filled room.

I’d shaken hands and patted backs with practically every official and a few opponents. I’d commiserated with my teammates and rehashed our most memorable moments. I needed Advil, an ice pack, and Derek and—

There he was.

I weaved through the small crowd of players and reporters and called his name. He grinned when he spotted me and gave a quick wave. I didn’t think, I acted. I jumped the barrier separating spectators from athletes. Then I pulled Derek close and crashed my mouth over his.

Cameras flashed, and a small murmur moved through the room before it erupted in thunderous applause. We broke apart with a laugh.

“Is that for us?”

Derek grinned. “Yeah, I think we’re gonna end up on the news. Way to go, Chadwick.”

I waggled my brows as I stepped aside, kissing his knuckles before releasing him. “I love you. Don’t care who knows.”

“I love you too. Go take some pictures. I’m ready to go home.”

“Me too, babe. I—”

“Gabe!”

I turned at the sound of my father’s familiar voice and spotted him amidst the sea of athletes and reporters.

Call me crazy, but fourteen years slipped away in a flash. I was twelve year old me for half a second, hoping to see the man I’d idolized rooting for me.

And this time he’d shown up.

I moved toward my father with my hand outstretched. “Not gold, but—”

Dad pulled me into a warm embrace. “Doesn’t matter. I’m proud of you, son. So proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, holding on a little longer than necessary.

I pulled away from my dad, aware of another round of flashing lights when Derek joined us and put his hand on my shoulder.

My smile was immediate and so wide it split my face in two.

I hoped the photographers caught it. I hoped to record this moment for posterity. I hoped to show our kids someday and tell them this was special.

See, I thought I’d learned a few things about love over the past few years. I’d learned to be patient. I’d learned to be kinder to myself. I’d learned that the road wasn’t always easy, but it was worth traveling with the right people…like Derek.

But I’d made my share of mistakes too and I’d held on to hurt. It was time to forgive and move on. Dad and I couldn’t rewrite the past, but maybe we didn’t need to. Maybe it was enough to trust in the future.