Page 97 of Her Name in Red

Coach's face hardens, then softens again. He sighs heavily.

“Take the rest of the season,” he says finally. “Think about it. Really think. Don't make a decision you'll regret for the rest of your life.”

I just shrug. What's there to think about? I already know.

He looks at me one last time before walking away; the door swinging behind him.

I dress quickly, then start emptying my locker. Jerseys, extra clothes, the stupid good luck charm my cousins gave me beforeI left for college. I stuff it all into my duffel bag, not bothering to be careful.

The door closes behind me with a final thud. No dramatic echo, no sense of gravity. Just a door closing on a chapter of my life that was never really mine to begin with.

Outside, the sky has turned a purple-blue. Campus is quieter now, most students at the dining hall or in their dorms.

For the first time in years, my chest doesn't feel tight. Like something's been cut loose inside me.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

where are you?

coming to find you. class over?

yes. meet me at the water.

I start walking, the weight of my bag suddenly nothing compared to what I've been carrying.

When I reach the stream, I see her sitting on a fallen log, her back to me.

“Hey baby.”

She doesn't turn. “Did you win?”

I drop my bag and sit beside her. “I quit.”

Maren finally turns to face me, her expression unreadable in the dim light. “Quit? As in walked away? Just like that?”

“Just like that.” I nod, feeling strangely calm despite what I've just done. “It's been coming for a while.”

“Your scholarship?—”

“Fuck the scholarship.” I grab a stone and hurl it into the water, watching the ripples spread outward. “I can't do it anymore, Maren. Every time I step on that ice, it's like I'm drowning. The game used to be everything to me, but now...”

She's studying me with eyes that see right through the bullshit. “Now what?”

“Now it feels like a fucking job. Going through the motions for people who don't even see me. They see Riggs Rhodes, hockey star. Future draft pick. Their ticket to bragging rights.” I run my hands through my hair, still damp from the shower. “I'm just a fucking product to them.”

“And to me?” she asks, voice soft but cutting.

I turn to her, my chest aching with something I can't name. “To you, I'm just…me. The real me. The fucked-up, angry, lost version that no one else wants to see.”

Maren's lips curve into a half-smile that makes my heart race. “And you think that version is worth more?”

“I know it is.” I reach for her hand, threading my fingers through hers. “I'd rather bleed for something that matters than keep pretending to be someone I'm not.”

She laughs, but it's not cruel. “You're walking away from everything for me? That's a dangerous game, Riggs.”

“I'm not walking away from everything. I'm walking toward something real.” I grab her chin, forcing her to look at me. “For once in my fucking life, I'm choosing. Not letting other people choose for me.”

Maren's eyes darken, and she leans in until our foreheads touch. “And if I destroy you? What then?”