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“Eden,” Georgie muttered through clenched teeth. “It’s a firm no.”

She slouched into a pout. “I’m just trying to help.”

“By implying I’m not doing enough?”

“Of course you are!” Eden broke into an encouraging smile. “I just thought this might—you know, nudge you over the finish line sooner.”

“Or the edge.”

Eden huffed. “Georgie, stop worrying. You’ll get it. I’m sure of it.”

She swallowed hard, the numbness still plaguing her lips and tongue. “Wish I were. Everything needs to fall into place, and then⁠—”

“You’ll stop stressing?” Eden interjected. “You’ll be happy?”

“Who wouldn’t be happy with a larger pay cheque and job security? I can’t remember the last time a department head was let go.”

“So till then, you’ll…?” Eden twisted her wedding band.

“Wait and keep working hard. And pray my tickets and rent don’t go up again.” Georgie laughed exhaustedly. “My finances are already on the ropes. I can’t take another hit.”

“Don’t wait to be happy, Gi.”

Her smile slipped. “I’m not. Who says I’m unhappy?”

“You did. Just now,” said Eden.

“Oh, come on.” Georgie scoffed. “That’s a stretch.”

“Is it?” Letting go of her ring, Eden paused for a few seconds like she was considering something. “Think about it. The high test averages in your class, the school paper winning awards…” Eden blinked expectantly, but Georgie wasn’t grasping her point.

“Sorry, you’ve lost me.”

Eden licked her lips. “All those amazing little victories didn’t make you happy. It’s like the only thing that will—the only thing that matters—is winning the promotion…”

Stiffening, Georgie drew in a quick inhale through her nose. Of course the promotion mattered. It mattered more than just about anything, pulling only slightly ahead of the Maple Leafs winning another Cup. Since 1967, her team had been stuck in a twenty-five-year championship drought.

The Leafs and the promotion both mattered because they’d mattered to her dad. A self-professed history nerd, Gordon had been on the fast track to become the department head at his Toronto school but passed away before the promotion happened. He was thirty-one, just a few months older than Georgie was now. Achieving her father’s goal would be the best possible way to honour his memory, the best way to make him proud.

A lump grew in Georgie’s throat. Proving her own worth and meeting her father’s expectations were so intricately entwined, and falling short of either would crush her. I need to win this for Dad and me. She shook her head and looked away. “You’re way off base, you know. I am happy. I do appreciate my achievements.”

Eden’s expression wavered between pleased and doubtful. “I hope so, ’cause chasing the promotion shouldn’t be to the detriment of everything else. Life carries on, and I worry you’re missing it.”

“I’m not missing it. I go to hockey⁠—”

“Hockey isn’t life, Georgie,” said Eden.

“Well, it is to me.” Closing her eyes, she shut out Eden and the circus of swirling aura tormenting her vision.

Her friend seemed to take the hint. “Guess that’s me told,” Eden mumbled, checking her watch.

As silence descended between them, the students grew louder, their attention wearing thin like Georgie’s patience. Where’s the freakin’ guide? With a sharp blink, she opened her eyes and chewed the inside of her cheek.

“So when was the last game you missed?” asked Eden.

Georgie’s annoyance spiked. “E…”

Shoulders leaping toward her ears, Eden raised her palms. “It’s just a question.”