Inside his parents’ house, the TV turns off and his mom’s footsteps thud on the steps.

“Your season ends in April?”

Regulation play does, so he nods again.

“You’ll be back in time for prom.”

He can’t tell if she’s asking him like a question, or telling him like an invitation.

“We could go together after all.”

An invitation.

One he can’t accept.

“Vera.” He has to swallow three times before it feels like his throat will cooperate.

“You’re not coming back, are you?” This time it’s not a question, and his stomach pitches.

He shakes his head. His apology tastes bitter on his tongue.

Her smile pitches and his stomach does, too.

“Maybe I can visit in the summer?”

The summer when he’s going to be balls to the walls in training camps? No. There’s a reason he has to do this now.

“Vera.”

She jumps off the swing, leaving him to jerk back and forth on the chains. For a moment he’s worried she fell.

“Don’t,” she says, holding her hand up as if to ward him off.

He takes a minute to unwind himself from the swing. When he reaches for her, she steps back.

It feels like a million smoke alarms are blaring in his brain. What was he doing again?

“Don’t you dare break up with me. Not over this.” She trembling with rage, eyes flashing even as a tear drips over the curve of her cheek.

“Vera.”

She backs up again, and it feels like someone buried a skate blade in his chest.

“Why now?” She asks, wiping her eyes. “Why wait until the last minute? Why not dump me the minute you knew you were leaving?”

Why?

Maybe because he doesn’t want to break up with her at all. Hespent months trying to find a way around it, but it was one thing to think about long-distance when he was going to be in Ohio. After Erik’s diagnosis, and Vic’s decision to quit, it made sense to contact the league, see if they could work something to keep at least one Varg brother on the roster. Wisconsin might as well be the moon for how far it felt to a teenager.

“Because I love you, and I—”

“No.”

Her word echoes in his ears. He thinks it would hurt less to be slapped.

“You donotget to say that to me. Not right now.” A sob wrenches from the center of her chest and she presses her hand to her sternum like it will dull the sting. “You do not get to choose hockey over me when I’m not asking you to choose. I have always supported you. Always. I always will, too. I don’t mind being second place in your life for a while.”

He knows. That’s why this is so much worse.