Page 7

Hallie

Age 13

“Happy birthday, Hallie girl.” Mrs. DeLuca places a cake on the table in front of me with thirteen candles lit and ready for me to wish on.

My smile is beaming as I look around to find my dad with his arms wrapped around the front of my mom’s shoulders, holding her to him. I watch as Mr. DeLuca slips his hand into his wife’s while they all sing for my birthday. Luke and Rio sit across the table from me, and then a blush creeps across my chest when my eye catches with Rio’s, finding him singing louder than anyone else.

I don’t have it in me to look his way again while the song finishes, and I certainly don’t make eye contact as I blow out my candles.

My wish is the same as it’s been all year. It’s the same thing I wish for every time I pluck a dandelion from some grass, see a falling star in the sky, or notice when it’s 11:11 on the clock.

Our parents are busy chatting and laughing with each other when Luke sits forward, elbows on the table in front of us, and asks, “So, what’d you wish for?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Oh, come on. What is it? You got some big stupid crush that you don’t want to tell us about? Did you wish that he’d like you back or something?”

My eyes flick to Rio sitting next to my brother, my cheeks flaming with heat. “Shut up, Luke. No, I—”

“She can’t tell us,” Rio cuts in. “Otherwise, it won’t come true.”

He smiles at me, dimples sinking into his cheeks, and it makes me smile right back.

“Whatever.” Luke wipes his finger across the white icing before sticking it into his mouth. “It probably won’t come true anyway.”

“Lucas William Hart,” our mom scolds. “Get your dirty fingers away from your sister’s cake. That’s going to be your piece, if Hallie even decides to give you any now.” She grabs the cake from the table. “Come on. I’ll slice and you serve.”

Luke rolls his eyes, standing from his seat to help our mom in the kitchen.

Rio leans across the table, speaking quietly to me. “Don’t listen to him. Your wish will come true.”

Those kind green eyes sparkle under the dining room light, his dark hair falling messily into his face. He’s so cute and has no idea. It makes my stomach somersault.

“Thanks.”

His grin tilts up on one side, soft and genuine, just like him. “Happy birthday, Hal.”

Okay, if I could scream without causing our families to stare at me, I totally would. I love when he calls me Hal. It’s like a secret only he and I have.

It’s been exactly two years since we moved to Boston and in that time, Rio and Luke have both turned fourteen and become best friends. And Rio and I... well, we’re friends too, but it’s different than his friendship with Luke. They play sports together and talk about girls. They’re in eighth grade while I’m still in seventh. When Rio has sleepovers at my house, it’s in Luke’s room and my brother doesn’t ever let me hang out with them.

But Rio is always nice to me, whether Luke is around or not, and though my brother doesn’t know that Rio and I are friends, we definitely are. I’m sure of it. Just look at the gifts he got me for my birthday this year. I know his mom didn’t pick them out for him.

Only Rio knows that I want to be an interior designer when I grow up and he gifted me a notebook filled with grid paper. I love drawing houses from a bird’s-eye view, designing layouts, and I was doing it on lined paper before, but the grid version is going to be so much better.

From his window, he’s watched as I painted my room three times since we moved in and rearranged the furniture more times than I can count. When he asked me why I kept changing it, I told him how I was practicing to become an interior designer.

He also got me a new cassette tape for my birthday, and if it were anyone else, they would’ve bought me a CD because they’re way more popular now, but I still think tapes are better. That’s how I know Rio picked out my presents himself.

Luke sets a slice of cake in front of me before passing plates out to both our family and the DeLucas.

“Thank you for making this, Mrs. DeLuca,” I say before my first bite. The devil’s food cake melts in my mouth as soon as it hits my tongue.

Both Luke and Mr. DeLuca had this cake for their birthdays this year, and it was so good both times, I knew it was the right flavor to request for mine.

Rio’s mom squeezes me in a hug from behind. “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

My attention darts up to find Rio, once again, smiling at me.

“Mia, I’m going to need this recipe,” my mom says. “Both my kids love it, and they never agree on anything.”

“Already wrote it down for you, Steph.” Mrs. DeLuca gestures to the kitchen and the two of them disappear out of view.

Not only are Luke and Rio best friends, but so are our moms. They do everything together. Plan birthdays, arrange carpools, and more times than I can count, I’ve caught them up late on the back porch sharing a bottle of wine. It works out well that we live ten feet away.

I guess you could say our dads are best friends too, but I’m not sure if dads have best friends. They’ve never called each other that, but they spend every Sunday either watching football together or working on Mr. DeLuca’s old car in his garage.

Our parents even planned a family vacation for all of us this summer to Florida. It’s the best, living so close to the DeLucas, but sometimes it feels like I’m the odd one out. Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to tag along with my older brother and his friend, and Luke usually gives me a hard time for it. Then our moms invite me to join them, but it’s not as fun.

“Happy birthday, baby girl.” My dad smacks a kiss to the top of my head. “I cannot believe how much you’re growing up. You’re the spitting image of your mom.”

“Happy birthday, Miss Hallie,” Mr. DeLuca adds.

“Thank you.”

They finish their slices of cake before slowly making their way to the garage, leaving me with only the boys in the dining room.

“I got the new Mario Kart game,” Luke says to Rio. “Want to go play it?”

“Definitely.”

They stand to leave, and Luke is already at the front door when Rio pauses halfway there, turning back to me. “Want to come play, Hallie?”

“No,” Luke whines. “She doesn’t know how to.”

I give Rio a smile. “That’s okay. Thanks though.”

His attention goes from me to my brother, then back to me, before he returns to the table, taking his seat once again. “It’s your birthday. What do you want to do?”

“You should go play.”

“Rio, let’s go,” my brother begs from the front door.

“You go ahead. I’m going to stay here.”

“That’s so dumb. She’s fine.”

“I’ll catch up with you later.”

Rio turns back to me and doesn’t even flinch when Luke closes the front door a little too hard and a little too loudly.

“What do you want to do?” he asks again.

I shrug, looking for something interesting enough that he’ll want to stay here and not go with my brother instead.

“Luke got you a friendship bracelet kit,” he says. “Do you want to make those?”

I chuckle. “You don’t want to do that.”

He smiles at my laughter. “I do! But you need to teach me how.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. I’ll make you one for your birthday.”

“Okay.” My cheeks hurt from the splitting grin on my face as I grab the kit from the other side of the table where my opened presents are. As I do, my eye snags on the new boombox the DeLucas got me. “Can we listen to music while we make them?”

“We better,” Rio says. “Do you want to listen to the new cassette I got you?”

I’m not sure I can light up more than I am now. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

The new boombox plays CDs too, and as cassettes are becoming harder to find, I’m sure that’ll come in handy when I’m forced to switch. But for now, I click my new tape into place.

“Which song are you playing first?” he asks.

I take my time choosing a song from the track list because I know this is a moment I’ll want to remember, and whichever song I choose is going to be one I put on next year’s mixtape because I’ll want to rewind it back and play it on repeat for a long time to come.

I write the number thirteen on my finished mixtape, signing it with an “H” and a heart. You know, for Hallie Hart. Heart like Hart. Anyway, it’s my new signature and I love it.

I’ve been working on finishing this mixtape for hours so when I finally look up from my desk, I find that the sky is pitch black, with only the glow of the moon for light.

Outside my window, there’s a person sitting on the roof that connects the DeLucas’ house to ours. The same roof that connects Rio’s room to mine.

I’d maybe be scared if I didn’t already know it was him. I’ve woken up in the middle of the night a couple of times and spotted him out there, lying on his back and staring up at the moon. I’ve never asked what he’s doing out there, never asked why he was still awake. I think maybe because I didn’t want him to know that I can see him. Which, I guess, doesn’t really make sense. We wave to each other from our rooms all the time, so of course he knows I can see him. I guess I didn’t want him to feel like I caught him doing something he’s not supposed to. I didn’t want him to stop sitting out there on the roof between our rooms.

It’s late, and checking the clock on my nightstand, I see there’s only twenty minutes left of my birthday. If it were a school night, my mom would’ve already checked to make sure I was asleep, but it’s Saturday and after Rio volunteered to hang out with me all day, maybe he’d be okay if I caught him.

I crack my window open and the cold spring air hits me in an instant. I whisper, but I’m loud enough for him to hear me. “What are you doing?”

When he whips in my direction, his face is etched in panic, like he’s about to be in trouble, but when he finds it’s only me, his mouth tilts into a smile. “Can’t sleep. What are you still doing up?”

“Enjoying my birthday.”

“Want to enjoy it out here?”

Oh my God. I’m holding my lips closed to keep me from squealing. I swear that birthday wish was so much stronger than all the other wishes this year.

“I um... don’t you think we’ll get in trouble for being on the roof?”

He shrugs. “I haven’t gotten caught by anyone yet. Well, besides you. You don’t have to though.”

I want to though.

I push my window open farther, eyeing the ledge. It’s only about a foot drop and this part of the roof is completely flat. Before I lose my nerve, I swing one leg over the ledge before sitting on the windowsill and bringing my other leg out as well.

Thankfully, we’ve had an unseasonably warm week, so I’m not worried about snow or ice. It’s all melted at this point, but still, I crawl on my hands and knees to meet him in the middle of the roof between our houses.

He chuckles as I take a cautious seat, and it’s then I realize that though it’s not snowing, it’s still freezing out here and I didn’t think to throw a sweatshirt on over my sleep shirt. But I also don’t want to crawl back to my room and risk missing out on this.

I hold my knees close to my chest to keep as much warmth in as I can.

He nudges his shoulder into mine. “Did you have a good birthday?”

“Yeah.”

“What was your favorite part?”

This.

“Um, maybe going to get my nails done with your mom this morning?”

I hold my hands out to show him.

“Ten different colors?” he asks with a laugh. “Couldn’t decide?”

I shake my head no.

“Kind of like your room.” He nods towards my window where I recently painted my bedroom walls... again.

This go around, I decided to do each of the four walls a different color shade of green. I like it. For now.

“My mom loves you,” he says. “I’m pretty sure she wishes you were her daughter.”

I giggle, but my teeth chatter as I do.

“Are you cold?”

I quickly shake my head. I don’t want him to tell me to go back to my room. “No. I’m fine.”

He unzips his hoodie, slipping his arms out. I catch sight of the friendship bracelet I made tied around his wrist. He was trying to make one for me too, but he had a hard time figuring out the knots and only got a couple of inches finished.

He holds out his hoodie for me to take.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” I ask.

“I play hockey. I’m used to the cold. I’m warm enough.”

I keep my lips pressed together to hold in any excited noises that want to escape.

His sweatshirt is warm from his body heat when I slip my arms through the holes, and it smells so much like him, I think his scent might be embedded in the fibers. I try to cover my deep inhale as I hide my hands in the pockets, realizing I was too excited to get out here that I still have my birthday mixtape in my grasp.

There’s a silence between us, both of us just sitting on the roof and looking at the moon. I search for something, anything to say, wanting to extend the moment for as long as possible.

“How was hockey practice?” I ask.

Rio shrugs. “It was a scrimmage. I didn’t get to play much.”

“Maybe you’ll get to play more next week.”

“Probably not.” He sighs. “The other guys are so much better than me.”

I don’t know what to say to that because he’s not entirely wrong. I’ve been to a lot of his games and when he does get to play, it’s kind of obvious that he’s not as good as his teammates. He’s become a better skater, but he’s not great at the stick and puck handling aspect. Though, he’s usually excited to just be out there.

“I think I’m going to quit.”

“What?” I jolt back and he reaches out to steady me as if he thinks I’m going to fall. He quickly takes his hand off my leg when he realizes I’m safe. “Why would you quit?”

He lifts a brow as if to say, do I really have to explain it?

“I’m not going to make the high school team next year, so what’s the point? Maybe I should try lacrosse with Luke. At least I wouldn’t look like an idiot on skates.”

The defeat in his voice makes me sad. He’s always so positive about things, even not being the best at hockey.

“Do you even like lacrosse?” I ask.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

No, he doesn’t.

“I don’t think you should quit.”

He huffs a white plume of cold air, and I know he’s freezing right now. “Why not?”

“Because it’s your dream to play for the NHL. For the Boston Bobcats. Your favorite team.”

“That’s never going to happen, Hallie. I’m not good.”

“You don’t know that. You’ll be in high school next year and your coaches will be even better. You’ll get better too. And I like going to your games to watch you, even if you don’t get to play.”

He stays quiet and that feels like I said too much, so I fidget with my hands to keep the silence from turning too uncomfortable.

Rio looks at my lap out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s that?” he asks, nodding towards the pocket of his sweatshirt I’m wearing where there’s an obvious rectangular outline.

“Oh, it’s um...” I pull it out. “A mixtape.”

He eyes the label. “Thirteen? Thirteen songs?”

“Thirteen, like how old I am.”

“And what’s that?” he asks, his forefinger running over the H and the heart.

“Me. Hallie Hart. H and a heart.”

The heart has a little extra tail that I accidentally drew, not stopping it where the two ends were supposed to connect.

Rio covers it with his finger to hide the imperfection. “That’s cool. H heart. Hallie Hart.”

My cheeks hurt from holding back my smile.

“What songs?” he asks.

“All my songs from this year. My important-moment songs.”

“You put them all together? On one tape?”

“Yeah. This is my third year doing it, so I have three of them now.”

He nods approvingly. “That’s so cool, Hal.”

Eyes on my lap, I turn a little shy. “Thanks.”

“Can I listen to it?”

That grabs my attention. “You want to listen to it?”

“Yeah, and I want you to tell me what happened to make them important songs to you.”

Oh.

“Well... I... I don’t know. Some of the songs aren’t good songs. They’re just songs I was listening to when something important happened, you know? You probably won’t like the music.”

“I still want to listen to it.”

“I... but...”

“Please?” he asks gently.

It washes away any nerves I have.

“Okay.” I hold it out to him. “You can have this one to listen to. I can make another.”

His green eyes sparkle. “Really?”

“Yeah, if you want it.”

“Absolutely, I want it. I just... I don’t have a way to listen to it. I don’t have anything that plays cassettes.”

“You could use my new boombox if you want.”

“Do you want to listen to it now?”

“Now?” My eyes go wide. “It’s midnight and... and...”

He cocks a brow, and I instantly feel silly. He’s older. Probably doesn’t have a curfew as early as mine. He and the other eighth graders probably stay up past midnight all the time.

“I’m not tired yet,” he says. “We could listen to it in your room. We’ll keep the volume down.”

What? He’s never been in my room before. He’s always in Luke’s room when he comes over, but no part of me is tired now either.

This is cool. Listening to music in my room after midnight.

“Okay,” I agree. “Just be quiet so we don’t wake up Luke or my parents. Or do you want me to wake up Luke? He can come to my room too if you want.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. We can listen just us two.”

This can’t be happening. This is the best birthday ever.

Quietly, Rio follows me back through my window. While I set up the boombox on my nightstand, he takes a tour.

“I like your room,” he whispers. “Even cooler up close than it is when I wave to you from my window.”

He checks out some of my drawings I’ve pinned to the wall, looks carefully over my trophies from swimming and soccer. He plops into my bean bag chair and doesn’t tease me for my baby blanket that I still have, the way my brother does.

I sit on my bed, still wearing his hoodie, and Rio stretches out to lie down on the floor next to the mattress, lacing his hands behind his back.

“What happened during the first song?” he asks.

Oh, wow. Okay this is happening, and this is going to be so much more embarrassing than I thought.

“I um... well, don’t tease me, but this boy told me he liked me right before spring break last year.”

He sits up quickly and with only the moonlight, I can still see his brows pinched together. “Who?”

“Kevin Gross.”

Rio’s face contorts in disgust. “Kevin Gross? Hallie, eww. His last name is Gross for a reason. That guy collects bugs between class periods and keeps them in his pocket.”

“It happened almost a year ago!” I whisper-yell. “And I don’t know. It was the first time anyone had ever liked me, so yeah. I wanted to remember it. I was listening to this song right before he told me.”

Rio lies back down with a huff. “Play it.”

I do, pressing the play button as “Waterfalls” begins to filter quietly through the speakers.

He shakes his head. “You wasted a TLC song on Kevin Gross? Wow.”

I laugh, lying back on my bed to mirror his position.

We listen to the whole song in silence and during the long pause before the second song begins to play, Rio quietly says, “Hallie?” from the floor.

I whisper right back. “Yeah?”

“Did you like Kevin back?”

“No. Not like that.”

There’s another long pause.

“Well, maybe that was the first time you were told, but I know for a fact it wasn’t the first time someone liked you.”

My eyes feel like they’re going to pop out of my head with how quickly they widen. Does he mean himself or someone else? My heart is thundering in my chest and if I were braver, I’d ask him what he means. But I’m not. I don’t ask for clarification and instead, decide to overthink that single sentence for the rest of my life.

The next song begins to play, and completely casually, like he didn’t just drop a potential bomb on me, he asks, “Why is the second song important to you?”