Unconditionally

The Hockey Dream

Arnold's POV

The cold air of the rink bit at my skin as I tightened my laces, the familiar sound of skates cutting through ice echoing in my ears. This was my sanctuary—where everything else faded away, and it was just me, the puck, and the roar of my teammates' laughter. I took a deep breath, letting the chill fill my lungs, and stepped onto the ice.

"Let's go, Kavinsky!" Jordan shouted, already speeding down the rink. His enthusiasm was contagious, and I couldn't help but crack a smile as I chased after him. We had a tournament coming up, and every practice felt like a step closer to the dream we'd been chasing since we were kids.

As I skated, I focused on the rhythm of my movements—the way the ice glided beneath my blades, the sound of the puck tapping against my stick. But beneath the surface, the pressure weighed heavily on me. The expectations felt like an anchor, dragging me down, reminding me of the stakes.

"Hey, Cap! You ready to show them what we've got?" Enzo called out as he joined us, his infectious energy lifting my spirits momentarily.

"Always," I replied, but inside, doubt gnawed at me. My parents had sacrificed so much for my hockey career. The late-night drives to practices, the countless hours spent on the road for games—they had poured their dreams into me. I couldn't let them down.

As practice kicked into high gear, I pushed myself harder. I skated faster, shot with more precision, and tried to keep my mind off the weight of my responsibilities. But every time I missed a shot or fumbled a pass, a voice in the back of my head reminded me of what was at stake.

"Arnold! Focus!" Coach's voice cut through my thoughts, snapping me back to reality. "You're overthinking it. Just play!"

I nodded, determination rising in my chest. I couldn't let my fears dictate my performance. With a renewed sense of purpose, I skated down the rink, the world around me blurring as I focused on the game. Each slap of the puck against my stick felt like a heartbeat, a reminder that I was alive and capable of greatness.

Yet, deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was always just one mistake away from disappointing everyone who believed in me. My parents wanted me to go pro; they dreamed of seeing me in the NHL. But what if I wasn't good enough? What if I fell short of their expectations?

As the practice wore on, I noticed Jordan and Enzo laughing together, their camaraderie a stark reminder of how much I loved this sport. But it also deepened the ache in my chest. I wanted to enjoy these moments, to bask in the joy of playing with my friends, but the pressure hung over me like a storm cloud.

"Alright, team! Let's finish strong!" Coach called out, gathering us for the final drill. I took a moment to watch my teammates—every one of them was here for the same reason, to chase the dream. I had to remind myself that it was okay to want it, to be afraid of failing, but also to embrace the thrill of the game.

As we executed our final plays, I felt the adrenaline surge. I could hear the cheers of my teammates, the sound of skates on ice, and the thump of the puck hitting the net. In that moment, I allowed myself to forget about everything else.

But as I skated off the ice, the pressure came crashing back. The anticipation of the tournament loomed ahead, and the whispers of doubt crept in again. What if I let my family down? What if this was the moment I fell short?

That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn't shake the unease. The tournament in Sydney was more than just a competition; it was a chance to prove myself—not just to my family, but to myself. I needed to face my fears and let go of the expectations that threatened to drown me.

As I closed my eyes, I imagined the roar of the crowd, the exhilaration of scoring a goal, and the pride on my parents' faces. I could almost feel the warmth of their encouragement wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.

But beneath it all, I wondered: would I be enough? Would I rise to the occasion, or would the pressure become my downfall? Little did I know, the answers to those questions awaited me in an unexpected place—far from the ice and the weight of my dreams.