Edge Of The Ice (On Going And Own Book)

Cold Begginging. 3

Alex took a moment to gather himself, skating slowly toward the boards. His mind was spinning, and not just from Cass. The familiar anxiety had started to creep in, the same feeling that seemed to live in the pit of his stomach these days.

He gripped the edge of the boards tightly, feeling the cold bite of the wood through his gloves. The early morning quiet of the rink should’ve been calming, but right now, all Alex could feel was the heaviness of everything waiting for him once he stepped off the ice. School. His team. His dad’s growing frustration with how much time hockey ate up.

And then there was that conversation—the one hanging over him like a storm cloud. His dad still didn’t fully understand why Alex had to fight so hard to be on the boys’ team, why it wasn’t as simple as just “playing the game.” It was a constant tension between them, even if neither of them said it out loud.

Alex shook his head. Not now. He wasn’t going to think about any of that right now.

As if on cue, the doors to the rink clattered open, and Coach Harris’s booming voice echoed through the space. “Alright, boys, let’s get moving! We’ve got a lot to cover this morning!”

Alex straightened up, forcing his mind to shift gears. Coach Harris didn’t mess around, and if Alex wanted any hope of staying on his good side, he couldn’t afford to show up distracted. The rest of the team was trickling in, noisy and rowdy as always. Logan Fields, the team’s captain, shot Alex a grin as he tossed his bag onto the bench.

“You ready, Rivera?” Logan called, already pulling on his gloves. “We’re gonna need you in top form if we’re gonna crush Cedar Heights this weekend.”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Alex said, nodding, though his voice sounded more confident than he felt. Cedar Heights was their biggest rival, and the pressure to perform was eating at him. Every practice mattered.

“Let’s hope so,” Logan added with a chuckle, skating over to him. “You’ve been looking sharp lately. Keep it up and you might even get to start.”

The idea sent a flash of excitement through Alex, but it was quickly followed by doubt. Starting was a big deal, especially for a sophomore like him. It wasn’t just about skill; it was about trust. And earning that from Coach Harris, especially as the only openly trans guy on the team, was a constant battle.

As the rest of the team geared up, Alex caught sight of someone approaching from the other side of the rink. It was Erin, Cass’s older sister, bundled up in a thick jacket, her camera slung around her neck. She wasn’t on the ice, but she had the same ease about her that Cass did—confident and sure, like nothing could shake her.

Erin waved as she approached the boards, a friendly smile on her face. “Morning, Alex. Your turn to hog the ice, huh?”

“Something like that,” Alex muttered, a little more bitterly than he meant to. Erin raised an eyebrow but didn’t press.

“You see Cass out there?” she asked, glancing at the far end of the rink, where her sibling was still practicing. “They’ve been at it for hours. No wonder they’re so good.”

“Yeah,” Alex replied, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. “I noticed.”

Erin laughed softly, not catching his frustration—or maybe just ignoring it. “Don’t let them get to you. Cass is... intense, but they’re not trying to show you up. That’s just how they are.”

Alex gave a small shrug, unsure of how to respond. He liked Erin—she was one of the few people who never treated him differently, who didn’t see him as anything other than “Alex, the hockey player.” But talking about Cass, especially to Erin, felt like walking into a trap.

“Well, I’ll let you get to practice,” Erin said, pushing away from the boards. “Just wanted to check in. Good luck this weekend.”

“Thanks,” Alex replied, watching her leave.

By now, the team was fully assembled on the ice. Coach Harris blew his whistle sharply, calling everyone into line for drills. The sound cut through the fog of thoughts in Alex’s mind, and he snapped into focus. The practice began in earnest, his body moving on instinct as they worked through drills, sprints, and passing routines.

But no matter how hard he pushed himself, no matter how fast he skated, he could still feel Cass’s presence in the background, like a shadow he couldn’t shake.

He tried not to look. He tried not to care.

But it was impossible not to notice.

At some point, in the middle of a passing drill, Logan nudged him. “You’re off today. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Alex muttered, focusing on the puck sliding across the ice. He flicked it back to Logan with more force than necessary.

Logan eyed him but didn’t press, just gave a quick nod and skated off to join the others.

Alex let out a breath. He had to pull it together. There wasn’t room for mistakes now.