A few days later.
The family was gathered around the dinner table, laughter rising over clinking cutlery. Chris looked noticeably relaxed, even reaching for seconds of Rachel's roast.
"By the way, I'll be out Saturday night," he said casually mid-bite. "I'm sleeping over at Mason's. There's a team thing."
"You? A party?" Rachel raised an eyebrow, amused.
"I promised. The team's been on my case since playoffs," he shrugged.
"Ah, the post-season celebration," Tom said, grinning as he leaned back in his chair. "I used to do that too… back in the golden days."
He chuckled and pointed a fork at Chris.
"Alright, listen—have fun, but don't go overboard. Drink water between the beers, never mix clear and dark, and never pass out first. That's how you get pranked."
Chris nodded seriously. "Got it."
"Will there be BBQ? If there is, you have to do it—even if you're not confident. It's one of the manliest things you can do." Tom leaned in. "I'll even lend you my straw hat."
"Really?" Chris asked, curious.
"Yes. And don't slack off too long with training. The ones who train through summer dominate come winter."
Chris nodded again, absorbing it like gospel. Rachel smiled softly while Claire rolled her eyes.
"Oh my God, he's got you hypnotized," Claire muttered jokingly.
Elsewhere, the trio—Claire, Jade, and Amber—were seated at a downtown café patio. Iced drinks in hand, shopping bags hanging off the backs of their chairs, they basked in the sunny, bustling energy of the afternoon.
"Oh, by the way, Mason said there's a party saturday," Amber said, leaning over her drink. "Invited the whole team and told me to bring friends."
"Pass," Jade replied quickly. "I'm not into randos lately. I've got my sights on someone already."
"Still trying, huh?" Amber smirked.
"He's made of stone," Jade groaned.
"Well, Chris told us yesterday he's staying over at Mason's Saturday. Not coming back until Sunday," Claire added, casually sipping her drink.
"…Wait, seriously?" Jade perked up.
"Uh-huh."
Still lounging in their café spot, their drinks now half-melted, Jade scrolled through her phone with a mischievous smirk curling her lips.
"So… about that party," she said.
"Weren't you just saying you weren't interested?" Amber teased.
"That was before I knew who's going. I'm back in the game," Jade grinned.
Claire leaned forward, amused. "You've got a plan, don't you?"
"Oh, I've got several," Jade said confidently.
She tapped her phone and turned the screen toward them. It showed a sleek, eye-catching bikini—tasteful, but clearly designed to draw attention.
"Step one: This. Poolside domination."
Amber burst out laughing. "You're ridiculous."
"Step two: I need you two during the drinking games. I've got a strategy—but I need backup to rig the pairing rounds."
"I feel like we're accomplices to something mildly illegal," Claire said, trying not to laugh.
"Just morally questionable. But fair game in the war of seduction."
"You're grinning like you already won."
"That's because I'm not going to lose. Not this time."
"Well… good luck with your stone wall."
"He will crack. One way or another."
Saturday around noon.
The sun had just begun to peak, warm and bright over the wide backyard where the party would unfold. The smell of freshly cut grass hung in the air, mingling with the faint sizzle of a grill warming up.
Chris walked in through the side gate, a sports bag slung over his shoulder. He wore a Hawaiian shirt—unbuttoned completely to show his lean, muscular frame—swimming trunks, black round sunglasses, and Tom's straw hat. His expression was the same no-nonsense one he wore to morning practice.
"You're early—and what the hell are you wearing?" Mason said, half amused, half shocked.
"You said you'd need help. My dad helped me pick this out. Said it looked cool. I think it does too. Why, is it bad?"
"I mean… I didn't think you'd take it that literally. But hey—I'll take it. It's unique."
Chris set the bag down near the porch and scanned the yard. Plastic tables were still stacked, chairs needed unfolding, and an inflatable pool was half-filled with ice and bobbing beer cans.
Chris raised an eyebrow. "You planning a party or starting a frat?"
"A little of both," Mason replied with a grin.
They got to work—dragging out the grill, hauling coolers from the garage, and syncing the Bluetooth speakers. Mason handled prep with chaotic energy; Chris followed with calm efficiency.
By the time the first guests trickled in, the backyard had transformed: balloons tied to lawn chairs, towels stacked by the pool, the grill already hot, and music floating over the breeze.