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Summary
The straps of Shane’s hockey bag dug into his shoulders as he stood by the welcome table and hoped that this year, it would be easier. It was reasonable, in his second year at camp, to expect that he wouldn’t be so caught up in everything that wasn't hockey, what to eat and where to go and who to talk to. Maybe this year, because he knew how everything would work, the routines and the expectations, he could actually make some friends.
Shane hugged his parents goodbye and assured them that he would be fine, just like he was last year—he hadn’t been fine, he’d been miserable, but there’d been hockey so it had been worth it—and then watched them drive away with only the smallest pit of fear in his stomach. He was hopeful. He was optimistic.
And then Shane locked eyes with Ilya, and something in that look told him that he was wrong, that he shouldn’t be sure of anything, that this person was going to divide his life into two pieces and he was helpless to stop it.
(or, after ilya's mother died, he was sent to live in canada with his aunt)