This is a different time. I don’t know why she’s trying to start a one-on-one, I don’t know what she thinks I’ll do, but we’re not young any more; and for my part, I can barely figure out how to cradle the ball. I jog towards her, and when my fingers close around the stick she holds out to me, it’s a grip of uncertainty. Embarrassment. I try my best to mirror her draw position, but the second I get low, bend my knees, my injury flashes before my eyes, the pain scorching my entire leg. I feel the scratch of the grass against my arms, the sting in my throat when I hold back tears, even as I yell in agony.

‘Colt!’ May calls again. I think she’s going to whack me upside the head with her stick for a moment, but instead, she lowers it. She removes a hand from her stick, then the other, letting it fall to the ground next to her. And she does something that makes me forget all about the pain.

She presses her hands to either side of my head, her thumbs at my temples, and she looks me dead on. ‘I will not hurt you, Colt. I promise. There is no stake in this game. You are not being held to anything.’

I blink. She doesn’t budge. Her face is so close to mine that I can feel her breath caress my cheeks when she exhales shakily. ‘I just … I just want to play a round with you again. Just once. Semi-properly. I fucking missed you, idiot.’

I swallow hard. The air between us is electric, silent but for the sound of the cows and her last sentence hanging in the air. I would find the mooing comedic in any situation but this one.

‘Missed you, too,’ I manage.

She nods, and the moment is over, just like that. She turns away, re-arming herself with her stick. ‘Go for it. Let’s do a face-off. You know that better than the draw.’

May readies herself close to the ground, bottom of the head of her stick touching the grass, right by the ball. With unsteady arms, I do the same on my side. ‘How … how did you—’

‘Rod told me.’ She smiles apologetically. ‘He didn’t need a second glance to figure out we were lying about the fake dating crap, apparently. But that’s not your biggest problem.’ Her smile falls right off, giving way to a new emotion – a very new emotion, one I’ve never seen in May, at least: sadness. ‘Is it?’

I cleverly duck her question, and instead try my best not to focus on all the things Rod could have told her about me, pressing my stick’s head closer to the ball. ‘In for a penny, I guess.’

‘Alright.’ May clears her throat. ‘On three. One, two, three!’