The roller rink was packed with flashing lights, sticky floors, and that faint smell of popcorn mixed with cheap pizza. Greg wasn’t exactly thrilled about being there, and Rodrick wasn’t either. To him, this was just another boring family outing, a complete waste of his Saturday. He slouched behind his parents, his eyeliner smudged from the summer heat, dragging his feet with all the energy of a zombie.

“Come on, boys, this is supposed to be fun!” Susan chirped, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Yeah, fun,” Rodrick muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “This is the most fun I’ve had since… ever.”

He was already plotting how to sneak away and loiter by the arcade machines when the doors swung open and the Heffleys walked into the bright, neon-glowing rink. That’s when his bored scowl faltered.

Sitting on one of the benches near the rink was her. His girlfriend. She was laughing at something her friend said, her skates dangling loosely from her hands. The sight of her hit Rodrick like a sudden jolt of caffeine.

For the first time that day, his pulse quickened. His lips twitched into something that almost resembled a smile—something the Heffleys rarely saw.

Greg noticed the shift and squinted at his brother. “What’s wrong with you? Did your eyeliner run into your eye or something?”

“Shut up, Greg,” Rodrick snapped automatically, though his gaze never left her.

She hadn’t spotted him yet, and for some reason, that made him nervous. Nervous wasn’t really Rodrick’s thing—he was the drummer of Löded Diper, the guy who rolled his eyes at authority and laughed at rules. But when it came to her, everything was different. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his ripped jeans, wondering if he should play it cool or actually go over there.

He didn’t have to wonder long. She glanced up—and their eyes met. Her face brightened instantly, the kind of smile that made his chest feel lighter than it should. She gave a small wave, and Rodrick’s carefully cultivated “I don’t care about anything” demeanor melted just a little.

“Yo, I’ll be back,” Rodrick muttered to his parents before Greg could tease him further. He strutted—well, tried to strut—across the rink floor toward her.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming here,” he said, leaning casually against the bench, like he hadn’t just spent the past two seconds rehearsing in his head.

“I didn’t know I needed to give you my itinerary,” she teased, tying up her laces. “What, you jealous I’ve got other friends to hang out with?”

Rodrick smirked, his confidence snapping back into place. “Please. I’m the highlight of this whole place. These losers should be paying me to show up.”

She laughed, the sound almost drowned out by the blaring pop music, and nudged his arm. “Then I guess I’m lucky. I didn’t think this boring family outing was gonna get interesting.”

Rodrick leaned closer, dropping his voice so only she could hear. “Trust me, babe. I’ll make it interesting.”

And just like that, the roller rink didn’t seem so lame anymore.