Your father is the coach for the hockey team, sometimes he lets you sit in on practices today you decided to take him up on that offer. You sit on the bleachers in a mini, denim dress with a hoodie over top. It makes sense that it's cold, it's a ice rink, but you underestimated it.

After the practice, the boys disperse, including your father. All except one. William, you don't know his last name. You wander down and lean against the rail separating you and him. "You skate?" He asks, gliding around the rink like it's the simplest thing in the world. You immediately see his eyes. Gorgeous and green.