On The Ice (boyxboy)

eleven

a/n- please ignore any typos lol. i'm in my room and my fan is on and it's so cold. my thumbs are frozen so if you see a typo just point it out. also here's a bit of longer chapter.

—
OLLIE'S POV

After about 5 minutes Charlie and coach walk back on. Charlie looks tense. I wanna know what's wrong. I can't just stand up and sit across from him. That'd be weird and people would put two and two together and know things. Assume and predict things that I want but definitely shouldn't, and can't have.

I decide to text him instead. I just type out a simple hey.

He texts back almost instantly saying hey.

The bus jerks to a start and we're on our way. I tried to stay calm for the ride, but everyone's words are in my brain. Logan's words are in my brain. What if everyone knew I was gay? What then? I can't think about it. I decide to just text back and focus on what's right in front of me. I text back asking, what did coach talk to u abt?

He was slow to reply at first but then said, just asking if i was okay. he also said if me and logan fight ever again then we're both have a one game suspension. i'm surprised he didn't do that already for tn.

I then asked, why didn't i get yelled at?

He said, logan didn't say anything and neither did i. i don't know why

I replied, that's weird. maybe because he's dating my sister idk.

He just said, yeah

I didn't wanna be done. I wanted to keep texting him. So I asked what I really wanted to know, are you okay tho?

He said, i'm good dw

okay. I left it at that.

My eyes grew with sleep. My lids slowly closing. I decided it's best to just sleep, then I would avoid what I was thinking.

I slept the whole drive there. I didn't dream of anything.

When we pulled up to the arena, I was amazed. I don't remember it being this big last year. It's like a college rink.

I stand up and walk off the bus. After a few minutes, I finally find my hockey bag and sling it over my shoulder. I grab my sticks and start walking towards the entrance.

Im the first one out of our group to walk in. I can feel the stares of the team behind me. I can't do anything but ignore it.

I was met with what looked like maybe the owner of the building? I don't know. He led me to the visitor locker rooms and I walked in.

Oh my, these are nice. The crisp purple benches with white walls. The cubby's colored in a vibrant blue. The other team's colors. Our gray and black would do nicely.

I walked over to the wall opposite to the door. I sat in the middle and put my head in my hands. I needed to get out of this headspace so I could focus on the scouts. Dad would say think about the future ahead, The Draft in June, the NHL. I needed to be looked at. Since I'm entering the draft, I needed people to see my real potential, despite my projection.

I'm surprised I'm even projected to go top 10 overall. I don't think I'm very good. I don't bring anything extraordinary, just average. I don't know. As long as I'm drafted, I guess. Then play in the NHL. I can do that.

I grip the ends of my blonde hair. It's gotten a little longer. I need it cut. It's more curly now than ever. Maybe Charlie likes the curls or the way it's long. If he liked it, I wouldn't cut it. I wouldn't second guess myself if he told me it was okay. I wouldn't worry if he said something was going to be alright.