Page 14 of Taking It To Overtime
Well, he might have told her Vera would grow into her teeth andalsothat Suzanne was jealous because she’d never be as pretty as Vera, but his dad had told him off for the last part. That made little sense to Robbie. His dad had clapped him on the shoulder, bought him an ice cream—two different flavors and sprinkles!—which didn’t feel like he was in trouble, even if his dad told him he shouldn’t have said what he did.
“You doknow how to skate.” He squeezed Vera’s hand twice, and she squeezed back, just like always. “I taught you myself.”
For someone who danced three times a week, he’d thought she’d have better balance, but he didn’t mind holding her hand and walking down their dead-end street, making sure she didn’t fall off the wheels strapped to her sneakers.
Vera pulled on her hand. Robbie refused to let go. They both jerked to a stop on the sidewalk.
“You said hockey.” She stuck her free hand on her hip. “Hockey means ice.”
“Not always.” He shrugged.
“Street hockey?” She tugged on her hand again and he stepped closer.
He never got this close to her, or any girls, but he couldn’t help noticing she smelled nicer than the twins. Like the sunscreen his mom slathered on him when they took their yearlytrip to Myrtle Beach, and a little like birthday cake. Her mom liked to bake a lot, but this smell was sharper, sweeter.
“You smell like sugar,” he said, the words tumbling out without conscious thought.
Her cheeks were pink from the sun and she didn’t have a hat. She was going to end up with more freckles. Or a sunburn. He should have brought her one.
“Paloma let me borrow some of her brown sugar body spray. She got it at the Limited Too.” Vera lifted her arm, twisting it in front of his face until he could see the glitter in the light. “She’s so cool.”
“It’s sparkly.” He curled his lip in disgust at the idea of glitter transfer, but it never occurred to him to drop her hand.
“Isn’t it amazing?” She laughed and drew her wrist to her own nose, taking a deep inhale. “It smells so good.”
“The sparkles get lost in your freckles.”
Vera dropped her arm and turned her chin away. The movement hit Robbie like a puck to the solar plexus. He let go of her hand and watched as she rubbed at the glittering skin on her arm.
“That was mean.” The words were a self-admonishment, but Vera’s shoulders hitched up to her ears in an elaborately unconcerned shrug.
“No, you’re right,” she said, but she still wouldn’t look at him. Why did it make him feel like someone told him he’d been cut from the hockey team? “I have too many stupid freckles. I just got excited ‘cause Paloma is so smart and fun and my mom won’t let me wear makeup or anything yet, but she was nice and shared with me. Now I know not to get my own glitter.”
“I like your freckles,” he said, wondering if he could reach for her hand again. He liked holding it, and he still had to get her to the street hockey game before the twins gave up waiting for them and ditched.
“No, you don’t,” Vera said. “There’s too many of them.”
She spread her fingers wide, and they both looked down at the dark spots that dotted her pale skin. She looked like someone dipped a brush in freckle-colored paint and then flicked it all over her. Robbie had seen Vera in a halter top last summer, and the freckles covered the triangles of her shoulder blades. He didn’t have to look at her bare legs—she was wearing bright green shorts—to know that the spots covered her knees and shins, too. She even had freckles in her eyes. Tiny spots of brown in the circle of green. Five in the left eye, three in the right.
“I do like your freckles,” he said, taking her hand back and squeezing twice. “You’re like a giant connect the dots picture.”
“That doesn’t sound great.”
“Well, it is. And I only said that about the stuff because I was mad you hung out with Paloma instead of me.”
And there it was. The third squeeze.
Robbie smiled.
“You’re an idiot.” Vera shook her head as she laughed. “Paloma was babysitting me, but if you’re that jealous I can get some spray for you, too.”
He looked at her then, grinning in the sunlight, and found his opening.
“New deal. You come play hockey without complaining, and I’ll let you put glitter on my arms.”
The way her smile widened set off a few alarm bells in Robbie’s mind, but not enough to take back the offer.
“Deal,” Vera said, bumping her hip into his. He stumbled sideways before catching his balance, hauling her along with him as she shrieked with laughter.
