‘Can’t use one play for every single match, can you?’ I retort. I push aside the way his little smile, right beside me, inches away, could make the coldest of hearts thrum with warmth, and I sure as hell shove down the urge to return the smile.

‘You got me there.’ Colt shrugs, all exaggerated, his muscular arm flexing against mine. ‘So what class are we going to?’

‘Synaptic Meteorology and Forecasting.’

‘Meteorology,’ he echoes, wide-eyed. ‘Damn. Well, pretty fitting for the girl who was Jo Harding for three Halloweens in a row.’

‘Oh, my god.’ The laugh that he finally manages to get out of me is primarily embarrassment. The Jo Harding costume isn’t something I like people to know about. ‘That was elementary school. You can’t hold it against me.’

‘May, what kind of first-grader is watching Twister once a month?’ He laughs with me, grinning so hard that his eyes narrow happily, the corners etched with crow’s feet from years of unbridled smiles. ‘Best part was that your parents enabled it. Your mom dressing up as Melissa …’

‘And Dad as Dusty.’ I snort, shaking my head. ‘Please, please never share this knowledge with anyone. I swear, if you open your mouth to a single human being—’

‘I won’t!’ Colt traces an imaginary ‘X’ over his heart. ‘I promise. But truly. Other than the extremely oversize jumpsuit—’

‘Seriously!’

‘—other than the jumpsuit … Meteorology’s a great major, right, but, and this isn’t to say you shouldn’t pursue it – you’re a powerhouse – but you’re fucking great at lacrosse,’ he points out, and the compliment really shouldn’t make me feel as light and airy as it does. ‘You’ll go all the way to the MLL. Hell, you’ll probably play sixes in the Olympics some day. You won’t be working a nine-to-five for a long time if that happens. So I guess my question is, why this nine-to-five?’

The light and airiness has faded by the time he gets to the end of his so-called encouraging spiel. The anger is back. Anger at all the stuff he missed, good and bad. At all the times we just picked up our sticks and played without a word. At all the long, late-night talks we slowly started to share. And at all the trust I placed in him.