A week and a half before Christmas, Veronica, Hailey, and I drive to Toronto to watch Cameron play. Tom isn't allowed to travel, so he and Ms. Beckett are watching the game from home.

Veronica drives and puts on old songs, classics from the 70s and 80s, and Hailey and I sing along when we know the words. I pull my sweatshirt sleeves over my hands - my Leafs sweatshirt, of course - and lean my head against the window. The highway flies by, trees shivering in the wind, and I inhale deeply. Exhale. Inhale.

"Are you guys excited?" asks Veronica. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and sticks her tongue out at Hailey in the mirror. "Sam, this is your first time watching Cameron play in the NHL."

"Yeah, I'm really excited. It's been too long since I went to a hockey game."

Hailey bounces up and down in the backseat. She's wearing an oversized Leafs jersey, with her own last name on the back. "Go Cameron go!" she says, and I smile.

We park in the city and head to a cheap burger restaurant - not AJ's Diner, but good enough. Toronto feels so different from Boston - it seems bigger, and taller, but more like home, like I've lived here all my life - and I stuff my hands in my coat pockets and breathe in the icy air.

After dinner, we walk to the Air Canada Centre, and Veronica and I each hold a hand of Hailey's. Veronica grins at me over Hailey's head. I feel so much like a brother to them I can't stand it. We walk past restaurants and apartment buildings and skyscrapers, the streets busy with pedestrians and city buses, the smell of exhaust and cigarette smoke, the sky slowly fading to dusk.

The Air Canada Centre is packed, the stadiums rich with blue and white jerseys, and we have decent seats. We cheer wildly when the team steps on the ice, and I find Cameron right away, number 21.

"Look!" shouts Hailey, and I bend down to hear her. "Cameron has pink tape on his stick. I gave that to him!"

I do see it. And I spot more than one sign that says Cameron's name or number written in the LGBT flag colors. I am so proud of him. And an odd mixture of pride and guilt hardens in my veins.

It's a close game until the third period, where Cameron breaks away with the puck and scores for the lead. The buzzers sound and the stadium goes wild, and Cameron punches the air. Even from the seats, I can see him grinning, chewing on his mouthguard. His eyes find mine a split second before his teammates surround him, knocking his helmet.

"He's so good," I shout in Veronica's ear.

She is beaming, her hands clasped in front of her face. "I know!" she says. "And did you see all the signs for him?"

"Yeah."

"It's insane! Everyone loves him. I know multiple people who have a crush on him. Even girls." She smiles, then glances sideways at me and nudges my shoulder. "Don't get me wrong, though. He's crazy for you."

With only a couple minutes left in the game, Cameron is cross-checked in the ribs, and my heart stops as he stumbles in pain. The whistle blows as a penalty is called against the other player. The fans shout their displeasure.

"He can't pull that shit!" Veronica says angrily, waving her hand at the player skating to the penalty box. "You can't do that!"

I am reminded of last year, when Cameron was hurt on the ice, and the nausea that rolled over me watching him seize up in pain.

But now, he nods at his coach, winces and stands up. He's alright. Not hurt too bad. It's just hockey, it happens. But I still feel sick, and I don't know why.

~

I don't see Cameron much over the next couple days, since he stays in Toronto to train. But he comes home on Thursday, exactly a week before Christmas, and walks into his bedroom as I'm reading a book.

He leans against the doorway and smiles. His hair is wet, the scent of shampoo strong, and he's wearing a long-sleeved shirt and soft sweatpants. "Whatcha reading?"

"Poetry."

"Any good?"

I smile back. "Yeah, I like it."

He shuts the door quietly behind him, then jumps on the bed, crawling on me and kissing my face. He's laughing.

I wrap my arms around his neck and breathe into his hair. "You smell good."

"I showered. Mom made me." He exhales deeply and closes his eyes against my chest, sprawled across me like a blanket. "I'm tired. I think I'll take a nap."

"Right here?"

"Yeah, right here. Is this inconvenient for you?"

I laugh. "Not at all."

"Good. Because, you know, you are in my bedroom."

I run my fingers over his cheeks, his jawline, and he smiles into my sweatshirt. "I missed you a lot," he says, his voice slightly muffled. "Did you like the game the other day?"

"God, it was great. You're incredible, Cameron. When you got hit, it scared me, for a second."

"What, the cross-check? It wasn't so bad. Just a bruise." He sits up and lifts his shirt to show me. Right underneath the ribs, the skin is purple and green. I stare at it for a minute.

"Ouch," I whisper. And for some reason, my eyes tear up.

"Sam?" His voice immediately softens. "Sam, are you crying? I'm fine, I promise. I swear, it doesn't even hurt." He reaches out and brushes my cheek with the back of his knuckles. "I'm fine, Sam. Really. I would never lie to you."

I jerk my head to the side and look down, so disgusted with myself I can barely speak. "I know," I say, and then - "There's something I need to tell you. I didn't get to earlier. You're going to hate me."

The room immediately tenses. Cameron sits back and tilts his head, watching me seriously, folding his hands on his lap. "I won't hate you," he says quietly. "But go ahead."

There's a million things I would rather tell him than this. And I know that once I say the words, he'll never look at me the same again. We'll break up. I'll hardly even see him anymore - I'll be in Boston, and he'll be in Toronto. And besides, Tom is doing alright for now. He won't live forever, but he'll live for now, and that's enough. And I hate to do this to Tom - pull him away from Ms. Beckett and Hailey and Veronica and people that he loves - and I hate that I'm hurting them too, the Becketts. But Cameron deserves to know. And I deserve what's coming.

"I kissed someone," I say. "A girl. In Boston. I was drunk and kind of high - I know that's not an excuse, that's not an excuse - and I kissed her. I don't love her or anything. I guess I just - I don't know. I don't know why I did it."

There's a long silence that breaks my heart. Cameron looks at his hands. And then he says quietly, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

It hurts to breathe. "I'm so sorry," I whisper. "I'm really sorry. It didn't mean anything."

He shakes his head as I apologize. "Don't," he says, and his voice is colder, and the temperature of the room drops twenty degrees. "I mean - shit, Sam."

I sit on my hands so he won't see them shaking. "I'm so sorry."

"Tom being sick doesn't mean you get to act like an asshole." He looks up at me, his face hardened, his eyes sad. And when he talks again, his voice cracks. "What the fuck, Sam?"

I try to apologize again, but I can't speak.

"And I thought you were gay."

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from sobbing loudly, and instead clear my throat. "I thought I was too. I don't know. I guess I'm just going through stuff, and -"

"No." He cuts me off. "No. I'm going through stuff too. Not that you'd know. And I would never do that to you, Sam."

"Not that I'd know?"

"Yeah, okay?" He jumps up from the bed. He's angry now. "My anxiety is all fucked up, and I still can't sleep well, a lot of the time. And it sucks. And I know most fans are cool with me being - being gay and stuff, but that doesn't mean I don't see hate messages all the time. All the time. Some people want to kill me. Did you know that?"

"I -"

"No, because I worry about you more than you worry about me. I care about you more than you care about me. And that really hurts."

I can't speak. I'm shaking so hard he must be able to tell.

He swipes his coat from the back of his chair and yanks it on. "I'm going for a drive."

"Are we breaking up?" I whisper, and he turns to open the door.

"I'm going for a drive," he says again, and my heart hurts, and I deserve it.

A/N fast update here cause i'm pretty busy this week and not sure when i'll be able to post next (won't be too long though, don't worry!) thoughts? :(