Page 32 of Rewind It Back

I shake my head no.

“Kind of like your room.” He nods towards my window where I recently painted my bedroom walls... again.

This go around, I decided to do each of the four walls a different color shade of green. I like it. For now.

“My mom loves you,” he says. “I’m pretty sure she wishes you wereherdaughter.”

I giggle, but my teeth chatter as I do.

“Are you cold?”

I quickly shake my head. I don’t want him to tell me to go back to my room. “No. I’m fine.”

He unzips his hoodie, slipping his arms out. I catch sight of the friendship bracelet I made tied around his wrist. He was trying to make one for me too, but he had a hard time figuring out the knots and only got a couple of inches finished.

He holds out his hoodie for me to take.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” I ask.

“I play hockey. I’m used to the cold. I’m warm enough.”

I keep my lips pressed together to hold in any excited noises that want to escape.

His sweatshirt is warm from his body heat when I slip my arms through the holes, and it smells so much like him, I think his scent might be embedded in the fibers. I try to cover my deep inhale as I hide my hands in the pockets, realizing I was too excited to get out here that I still have my birthday mixtape in my grasp.

There’s a silence between us, both of us just sitting on the roof and looking at the moon. I search for something, anything to say, wanting to extend the moment for as long as possible.

“How was hockey practice?” I ask.

Rio shrugs. “It was a scrimmage. I didn’t get to play much.”

“Maybe you’ll get to play more next week.”

“Probably not.” He sighs. “The other guys are so much better than me.”

I don’t know what to say to that because he’s not entirely wrong. I’ve been to a lot of his games and when he does get to play, it’s kind of obvious that he’s not as good as his teammates. He’s become a better skater, but he’s not great at the stick and puck handling aspect. Though, he’s usually excited to just be out there.

“I think I’m going to quit.”

“What?” I jolt back and he reaches out to steady me as if he thinks I’m going to fall. He quickly takes his hand off my leg when he realizes I’m safe. “Why would you quit?”

He lifts a brow as if to say,do I really have to explain it?

“I’m not going to make the high school team next year, so what’s the point? Maybe I should try lacrosse with Luke. At least I wouldn’t look like an idiot on skates.”

The defeat in his voice makes me sad. He’s always so positive about things, even not being the best at hockey.

“Do you even like lacrosse?” I ask.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

No, he doesn’t.

“I don’t think you should quit.”

He huffs a white plume of cold air, and I know he’s freezing right now. “Why not?”

“Because it’s your dream to play for the NHL. For the Boston Bobcats. Your favorite team.”

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