The Roller Rank was buzzing with music, neon lights, and the squeak of hundreds of rental skates against the glossy floor. Families and groups of kids swirled around the rink while a disco ball sent flickering spots of light across the walls.

The Heffleys had decided to make it a “family outing,” which meant Susan was way too enthusiastic, Frank was already regretting it, Manny had been bribed with cotton candy, and Greg… well, Greg had made it clear that roller skating was not on his bucket list.

Rodrick, of course, looked like he couldn’t care less about family bonding. But when you tugged on his sleeve and nodded toward the couples skate announcement over the speakers, his whole demeanor changed.

“C’mon,” you teased, grinning at him. “Unless you’re scared you’ll fall on your face.”

Rodrick smirked. “Please. I was born to shred—on wheels, guitars, you name it.”

Susan perked up immediately. “Oh, how sweet! You two should totally do the couples skate! I’ll get pictures!”

“Mom!” Rodrick groaned, dragging a hand down his face. But you caught his hand before he could argue more.

“Come on, Rodrick. With me,” you said softly.

That was all it took. His scowl melted, and he let you lead him onto the rink.

The lights dimmed, a slow song started, and the couples skate began. Around you, pairs drifted across the floor, holding hands or laughing as they tried not to wobble. Rodrick slid onto the rink beside you, a little shaky at first but refusing to admit it.

“You good?” you asked, squeezing his hand.

“Totally,” he said—right before his wheel clipped someone else’s, and he nearly went down. You grabbed his arm, steadying him, and he laughed nervously. “Okay, maybe not totally.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, pulling him closer. “Just follow me.”

And slowly, you found your rhythm together. His hand rested securely on yours, and soon he was actually skating without stumbling. The music thumped through the rink, but for Rodrick, everything seemed quieter with you right there, gliding side by side under the disco lights.

From the sidelines, Greg made gagging noises loud enough for people around him to hear. “Ew, seriously? They’re holding hands while skating?!”

Susan shushed him immediately. “Oh, Greg, let them have their moment. It’s romantic!” She snapped picture after picture on her phone, while Frank muttered something about how “this was supposed to be about the kids.”

Back on the rink, Rodrick leaned closer, his voice low so only you could hear. “I don’t care what they say. This is actually… kinda awesome.”

You smiled, resting your head briefly against his shoulder as you circled the rink together. “Told you.”

And for once, Rodrick Heffley wasn’t the band guy, the slacker, or the annoying older brother. He was just a guy, holding your hand under neon lights, skating a little clumsy but trying his best—because he was with you.