Very Merry Married (Kringle Family Christmas)

“Our schedules are never going to line up.” I sounded almost desperate, so I tried to calm my voice. “We’re both so busy, we barely see each other. We didn’t even do anything for your birthday.” He’d had a game, and I’d been at a cheerleading championship in Denver.

“Jasmine,” Matt said, his voice cracking a little. Then he seemed to get control and his voice went dark. “I get it. I don’t fit in with your world. Your cheerleading friends make fun of me. Your buddies on the football team try to beat me up for sport. You haven’t introduced me to your parents, and when my parents invited you to Thanksgiving, you said no.”

“I was busy!” I cried.

“You stayed in town, just like we did,” Matt said. “We could have seen each other, even if it wasn’t a big family dinner. But you said no, and then you didn’t answer my calls. I should have known then that something was wrong.”

I felt my cheeks flush hot. I had made plans with my parents for Thanksgiving weekend—but not for the whole thing. I could have made time to see his parents, who had always been nice to me. I could have made a trip to the Kringle Christmas Tree farm.

“Well, you didn’t visit family, either,” I said.

“The only member of your family that I’ve met is your brother, and that’s because he goes to this school. I’ve gone to school with him for years, and the only words he’s ever said to me are ‘My sister is going to dump you, moron.’”

My jaw dropped. Okay, maybe Brad was a bit of a snob. He was a football player, after all. And he’d teased me relentlessly since the moment he found out I was dating Matt, asking if I was “still seeing that hockey goon.” Maybe that teasing had gotten to me a little bit. I didn’t know he’d said that to my boyfriend.

But I couldn’t back out now. I was too far in. The only way was forward.

“You see?” I said. “We’re too different. This was never going to work. Besides, you’re already being scouted by agents. You’re going to get a hockey scholarship. And then you’ll be gone, and I’ll still be here in Salt Springs.”

This, I knew, was going to happen. I may not know much about hockey, but I knew that Matt Kringle was very, very good, even at seventeen. If I wanted to be honest with myself—which at this moment, I really didn’t—the idea of it terrified me. Matt Kringle was going to leave for an amazing career in the NHL, and he was going to forget about me. We already had an end date. And after a few nights of crying and freaking myself out about how much I liked him, I had decided that the end date needed to be now.

If you got ahead of the pain, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. That had been the theory. Right now, with my throat closed up and tears in my eyes, it didn’t feel like that theory was right at all.

“This is what you want?” Matt asked. “To break up with me?”

I made myself say it. I had to—he was going away, and I would still be here, going nowhere. “Yes. It is.”

He bit his lip, as if he was going to say something else, but he didn’t. He turned and walked away.

And so I broke Matt Kringle’s heart. By spring, I was dating Gareth Green, the quarterback of the football team. Gareth had no plans to leave town. My brother really liked Gareth. So did my parents.

Matt never spoke to me again.

That was fine. I was fine.

It hadn’t been a mistake, right?

Right?