Page 66 of Rewind It Back

“You’ll have enough saved up for school in no time.”

“Hopefully. It’s expensive, so we’ll see.”

“Do you know where you want to go yet?”

“I’m not sure. Somewhere away from home, though. I’m excited to have the whole college experience one day.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Same here.”

She sits up straighter. “I have two things for you. First.” She places my folded jersey on my lap. “I need to return that to you. Thanks for letting me borrow it, but I need your home jersey for when you play on the road next weekend.”

“I’ll get it to you once it’s out of the laundry.”

Her eyes are glued on my jersey sitting in my lap. “I’ve never asked you why you picked that number in the first place. You’ve been number eighty-three for as long as I’ve known you.”

I chuckle. “Well, I was ten years old when I got to choose my number for the first time, and I didn’t know what to choose, so I picked my favorite day. I thought I was so cool picking my birthday. Eighty-three. August third. It’s stuck ever since. Can’t imagine having a different number now.”

She hums. “Clever.”

“And the second thing you have for me?”

She gives me an unimpressed look because we both know what it is.

Out of the front pocket of her hoodie, wellmyhoodie that she stole, Hallie pulls out a CD case with a single silver disk inside.

“Hallie Hart,” I begin in disbelief as she hands it to me. “What the heck is this?”

“I know. I know. I hate to admit it, but it was time to switch. Half the songs I needed for this year’s playlist weren’t even on cassette tapes, so I had to burn a CD. And even CDs are becoming hard to find.”

“Wow.” I shake my head, looking at the disk in my hands. “It’s the end of an era.”

The CD is signed the same way all the previous tapes were, with an “H” and the outline of a heart for her last name, followed by the number fifteen. Her heart drawing is the same as it always is, with a little tail extending past where it’s supposed to stop.

Like instinct, I reach out with my forefinger, covering that extra bit. The little imperfection that I find perfect every year I get to see it.

She playfully pushes my hand away and fully covers the signature with her palm. “You always do that. Every year. I know the way I draw hearts is weird.”

I try to move her hand away so I can see it, but she doesn’t budge.

“I don’t think it’s weird, Hal. I think it’s my favorite part.”

Her grip on the CD case loosens and this time, when I move her hand, she lets me. She lets me slip my fingers between hers. She lets me run the pad of my thumb over her knuckle.

I look up to find her already watching me with those sparkly eyes.

“No one else draws their hearts like this, so every time I see one, I know it’s you. That’s why I like them so much.”

Her smile goes soft.

“Happy birthday, Hal.”

“Thank you.” It’s hardly a whisper, so she clears her throat and nods towards the CD. “Should we go listen?”

“Only if you tell me why each one of these songs is important to you.”

That smile grows. “I always do.”

She stands first and I follow, tossing my blanket and jersey back through my window before crossing the roof to her room, closing her window after we’re both inside.

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