I wanted to nothing to do with that book. Knox volunteered to take the Bible home with him and keep it safe until we found out who G.R.M. was and Victoria and Asher had agreed on researching the initials for us by looking up old court cases in newspapers while we took a break day for the rest of Sunday. The three of us had found a lot in that forest and were temporarily traumatized to discover that such things as evil shadows and time loops actually existed.

Maverick invited Knox and I to a watch a hockey game with him, but only I had accepted his request. We met at Grant's Skating rink and both payed for our tickets, finding seats next to one another, bundled up in jackets against the cold. Neither one of us said anything for quite a while until the music started playing, staring out at the rink before us as the stands filled up. "I'm glad you came along," he finally said. "I needed someone to talk to since Thomas . . . well, you know . . ."

"Thanks," I replied, rubbing my hands together. "Ugh, I should've brought gloves."

"Here," Maverick took my hands in his, clasping them together to warm them up, my skin tingling at his touch. We locked eyes for one intense moment before both looking away shyly. "Better?"

"Yeah, thank you." He nodded his head as if to say "no problem" and turned his attention to the ice, where absolutely nothing was happening.

The game started a couple of minutes later with only one point halfway through the first period for the guest team. We weren't really rooting for anyone, solely watching the game for pure enjoyment to see who would win. According to Maverick, the adult team that skated at Grant's was arrogant, rude and skilled only in looking down their noses at people. Of course he didn't want the guest team to win on home ice, but he didn't want Grant's team to win either, so we remained neutral in the stands.

I bought hotdogs halfway through the game, and, once it had ended with the win of the home team, we left the stands, threw our trash away, and headed to his truck. "That was an interesting game," I said, trying my best to break the silence without being awkward.

"Yeah. That dude totally got boarded and the refs didn't even call a penalty. They've got their heads up their-"

I cleared my throat loudly, looking at him expectantly. "Sorry."

"It's cool. You want to grab something to eat? My treat,"I suggested.

"Sure, but I'll pay for my meal and yours. You had to pay for your own ticket and both of our hotdogs, so I buy you dinner."

"I'm not objecting," I joked as I slid into his truck, closing the door behind me. "Where are we headed?"

"There's a good coffee shop in the city we can go to."

"I don't like coffee, though."

"I don't either, but this place has hot chocolate," he defended. "Do you still want to go?"

"Well, It is tempting . . . Sure," I relented. " I could go for a hot chocolate or two."

Maverick smiled, leaning forward to turn on the radio, and started the truck. It wasn't long before it filled up with warm air and we sat listening to Christmas music. Sure it was November, but I only objected to the advertising and preparation for the December holiday when it was October or earlier.

After a short drive, we had made it to the coffee shop, ordered our hot chocolates, and taken our seats. "How much time do we have?" I asked. "I have to be home by eight. That's my schoolnight curfew."

"Let's see . . ." Muttered Maverick, glancing down at his phone screen. "It's almost six o'clock right now, so I'd say we've got about two hours to hang and do whatever."

"Cool. So, what do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. We could talk about you."

"Me?" I feigned a look of surprise.

"Yeah! What do you like to do?" He inquired, leaning forward intently. "Do you play hockey?"

"I don't play hockey, but I do watch it. I also like to read and I love dogs and horses. I absolutely suck at ice skating. I do hunter-jumper every season but the summer and I do archery. Wow, that's a lot of 'I's. That's about it, though. I'm pretty boring."

"I thought that was interesting. You know," he suggested. "I could teach how to skate, maybe even play hockey?"

"That'd be really fun," I replied, thanking the waitress as she gave us our hot chocolates. "So, tell me about you."

"Uh, I play hockey . . . obviously," he scratched the back of his head nervously. "Pizza is my favorite food, I have a dog named Henry, my mom emigrated here from Germany . . . uh . . . and I like to sleep. A lot."

"Half of that stuff I can relate to," I responded, nodding my head in genuine understanding, a smirk playing across my face.

"Where did you come from?" Questioned Maverick.

"South Dakota."

"Do you miss your friends?"

"I didn't have a lot of friends in my old school. There, you had to talk to people instead of waiting for them to talk to you and that just wasn't really my forte. I'm awkward and shy and people in Hartley were the exact opposite. I did have one good friend, though, but she moved before I did."

"Oh. I'm sorry," he said in a low whisper, looking down at his hands. "I don't have a lot of real friends either. The guys on my hockey team and you- I mean the Band of Meddling Kids- are pretty much all I have. Everybody else who follows me around is just an acquaintance. Do you miss your old friend?"

"I did, but I stopped eventually. You can heal from things like that so long as you don't think about the person too much."

"Isn't that like shutting them out?" Asked Maverick.

"Not if they left you first."