Page 88 of Breakaway Goal

Well, I’ll know exactly what we are by the time I’m heading back to Cedar Shade on Sunday.

I swallow past the knot in my throat as we step out of the store onto the main street.

Maddie and I spent a lot of time in Rufus’s place when we were in high school, since he always had a big collection of vinyl records as well as a record player that you could try them out on, and it was a fun way to discover new music.

As we walk past Pete’s Diner, Maddie tilts her head toward it. “Do you remember that that was the first place we …”

I finish for her. “The first place we ever had a meal alone.” I grin. “Yeah, I remember.”

The fact that she does has warmth radiating from my chest through my limbs, more than strong enough to stave off the sharpness that entered the air these last couple days. The true coldness of winter is just starting to descend on the region.

We keep strolling side by side. “You came over to my house that evening. I told you that Lane was staying late for something with one of the clubs he was in at school,” she reminisces.

I nod. “Yep. Then I told you that I knew that. I was there to see if you wanted to get dinner. My mom was working late, and there was nothing in the refrigerator I was in the mood for, so I went hunting through the house for quarters until I’d scrounged up enough to pay for two meals.”

“This is so embarrassing, but …” she shakes her head quickly, a nostalgic laugh slipping from her. “In my head, I imagined it was a date.”

My heart pulses. She did? Was it just out of curiosity, because she was young and had never gone out for dinner with a guybefore, and was just trying to get a sense of what being on a date would be like? Or was it because she wished itwerea date, just like I did?

“I remember I’d just listened to that Joanna Newsom album you recommended me, and I was excited to talk about it with you,” I say.

“It was right around this time of year. Early December?”

“Yeah,” I nod. “It was so cold that evening. We walked from your place.”

“I remember how good it felt when we got inside, and I could warm my stinging cheeks.”

My palm and fingers are warm before I realize I’ve slid my hand into Maddie’s, and that we’ve been walking for who knows how long with our hands clasped, where anyone could see us in a town where practically everyone knows everyone.

Disappointment coils in my chest when Maddie pulls her hand away, and I feel nothing but the chill of the air around my fingers. She must have just realized the same thing.

We keep walking toward the river that runs through town. We approach a convenience store, one of the local spots we frequented the most growing up, just before a turn that leads to a trail that runs along the water.

“Maddie! Rhys!” Dean exclaims as the bells above the front door jingle. “Where’s Lane?”

Dean’s a real character, the kind of business owner who’s on a first-name basis with all his regular customers.

“At home,” Maddie answers. “I’m sure he’ll stop by before we go back to college.”

“He better,” Dean grouses playfully. “He needs to remember who gave him his first job when he was saving up for that Nintendo.”

I chuckle. “It was a PlayStation.”

Dean waves his hand dismissively. “Same thing.”

I don’t even have to ask Maddie what she wants to drink when I reach for two bottles of peach tea.

“Ah, two peach teas,” Dean says as he rings up our order. “Coulda guessed it.”

I spot Maddie reaching into her jacket pocket, but I beat her to the punch and hand over the cash to pay. I shoot her a triumphant wink when I hand her her bottle, and she rolls her eyes in response. We say goodbye to Dean and then turn onto the trail to stroll along the river, the path lined with trees that have by now shed most of their leaves.

A little bit down the path, we toss our empty peach tea bottles into a recycling bin placed along the trail.

“Isn’t it a funny coincidence that we both have the same favorite drink?” Maddie says as our bottles clang together in the bin.

“Coincidence?” A wispy puff of a laugh escapes my chest. I stop my stride and turn to Maddie. “Nothing about that fact is a coincidence.”

“Hm?” She hums questioningly, lifting her eyes to mine.

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