He reaches for me, gentle and honest. "I don't think anything could."
Closer to the start of the school year, he gets busy again, and I'm swept up in Harper's excitement. She's close to deciding about college, and she’ll be reuniting with friends she hasn't seen much over the summer, everyone comparing schedules as soon as they're released. She squeals, of course, when she sees that she'll be in Mateo's class again. She has an entire school year ahead with her favorite teacher and coach.
And I hadn't thought about it before, but because he's her teacher again, I see him at a back-to-school night. I'm prepared for his gorgeous grin in a way that hadn't been true three years ago.
"Mateo Zavala," I say almost teasingly, my hand outstretched. "It's been a little while since my first visit to your classroom."
"It has been, but having Harper in class is as much of a pleasure now as it was back then. Fewer surprises, though—among all the kids in the AP class, I mean. I taught a lot of them as freshmen, and now I'll be getting them ready for graduation."
"Ugh, I can'twait," Harper says. "Not to be, like, rude about school or anything. But once I get through all of this, I'll have so muchfreedomand chances to do so many new things, and I'm just really freaking out about it? In a good way? So, yeah, this class will be cool and soccer will be awesome, and then I'll graduate and everything will be sooooo—I just can't wait."
"Be careful about wishing away time, pixie," I warn, as hypocritical as anyone has ever been.
"Okay, yeah, I know."
I tug on her ponytail once, then turn my attention back to Mateo. "Speaking of time, if you have some to spare, I may be looking for someone to go with me to a hockey game or two this season. I know Harper offered you my autograph the last time we stood here, but I always get tickets. She's busier than ever, so I'd be happy to take you if you're interested."
"I am. Unless it's weird for you?" he asks, his eyebrow raised in Harper's direction.
"It's very mildly weird, but not like,weirdweird?" she answers. "And he's right that I'm busy. Plus, he should get used to me not being around, for next year when, you know, I won't be around. So, yeah. It's good. Go to some games."
She nods. I nod. Mateo nods. And it's as easy as that.
Mateo and I go to a game the second week of the hockey season. It's probably sooner than we should, but it feels like a step we could've taken a long time ago. I tell myself I’ve been to games with Kai, and with lesser-known ex-teammates, and this shouldn’t look any different. Still, on our way to the arena, I remind him it'll be the first time we're surrounded by people likely to recognize me. I offer him the chance to turn around and know he won’t take it. He chuckles, and when he points out that he'll have to get used to it eventually, I silently count the months ahead.
Eight. There are only eight months left before a crowd just like tonight's sees my name in a headline and asks questions about my future I once never expected to answer.
We go to another game in November. We've each got a beer in our hands and L.A. is up two, but my focus has been drawn to where Mateo sits next to me. He's chanting something with the rest of the crowd, but my eyes follow the sexy stubble on his jaw up to the strands of hair falling free from his ponytail. I'm in love. Then, just afew minutes before the third period starts, I remember an afternoon on the soccer field when we were just learning how to talk to each other without naive promises making it easy.
"Has anyone taken you skating and put a stick in your hands?"
Mateo's smile is subtle, but I can see it in the tiny crinkles next to his eyes. "Not yet."
"Somebody should."
"I hope somebody does."
So, that's our next date. With the high school soccer season and Thanksgiving weekend complicating our schedules—not to mention the precious time I spend with a daughter who has several better things to do—it's mid-December before we make it happen. It works out though, because Los Angeles is on a four-game road trip, and I’d always made nice with employees at the practice facility. We get the place to ourselves for an hour I'd be willing to pay for ten times over. I stand back to watch while Mateo laces up his borrowed skates.
He glances up at me. "This really won't mess with your leg?"
"You think I'd be doing this if it would hurt me?"
"Yes."
I shake my head, but don't argue when we both know he's right. "Come on. Time for me to steady your wobbly ass."
This isn't actually my first time back on the ice. Besides, he and I won't be doing anything vigorous enough to piss off my broken leg. If I'm sore at all, it'll be from working to keep him upright. Then it doesn't take long for me to realize he can skate just fine. He's lacking finesse and speed, but he's fine.
It doesn't stop me from reaching out for him when I can.
After several minutes of skating the perimeter, I grab us a couple of sticks and a bucket of pucks. His years of soccer make him no stranger to anything I have him try now, but I have a great timeteaching him the finer points of the game I love. We pass back and forth, and he gets better at maneuvering around me. I'm as happy when he scores now as I was back when my own goals counted toward something real.
"Someday we'll do this on one of your frozen lakes," he tells me.
I really want that to be true.
A few weeks later, Christmas Eve passes with only a few texts. I'm not bothered by it, because for the first time ever, Mateo and I will have the chance to celebrate together. We have to wait until Christmas night, after Harper has gone to Danielle's and Mateo has fulfilled a much longer list of family obligations, but then he's at my door. I'd be mad about the wrapped gift in his hand, but I have something for him, too. I step aside with a grin that feels like it belongs to him these days.