The Winners (Beartown, #3)

by Fredrik Backman

Amat starts playing hockey again this evening, he never gives up, but Benji will never find out how good he can be.

Pls stop

“I’m proud of you,” she whispers into his sweater. “I’m proud of you too,” he replies into her hair. Someone yelps breathlessly a few rows below them. “What about me? Isn’t anyone proud of me? You’re shit friends, the pair of you, you’re the pits! Can you believe that I had to use the stalker app I installed on your phone to figure out that you were here?”

My babies

Amat will remember this evening as the start of something. Bobo as the end of something. For Peter it feels like belonging to something again, for Mumble it feels like belonging to something for the very first time. For Big City it’s like getting a second chance to be a little kid and fall head-over-heels in love with hockey again. How it feels for Benji nobody knows, this is the last time they see him play.

I hate this

He’s lying deep in the bushes behind his favorite tree. He looks like he’s sleeping. But his little ears don’t react when Sune steps across the grass, his little paws don’t move, his little heart doesn’t beat. He doesn’t chew his slippers to pieces. He doesn’t bark so that Sune can tell him to shut up. He doesn’t lick his face. He’s no longer there.

The way the snow feels as it falls on your skin while a boy with sad eyes and a wild heart teaches you to skate.