Edge Of The Ice (On Going And Own Book)

Unravelling Threads . 20

Alex and Cass sat in silence, both lost in thought as they unlaced their skates. The locker room felt colder than usual, and the usual post-practice energy was gone, replaced by the weight of uncertainty.

Alex kept replaying the conversation in his head-regionals, the championships, everything crashing into each other at once. His mind buzzed with questions that had no easy answers. He glanced over at Cass, who was staring at their untied laces, their fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of their skate.

"You okay?" Alex asked, his voice low.

Cass looked up, their expression a mix of frustration and exhaustion. "I don't know. I mean, I've been working toward this competition for so long. I've been dreaming about it since I was a kid, you know? And now... everything feels like it's slipping out of my hands."

Alex's chest tightened at the sadness in Cass's voice. He knew how much this meant to them. Hell, it meant everything. "I get it," he said softly. "I feel the same way about regionals. But I don't want us to have to choose like this."

Cass sighed, running a hand through their damp hair. "It's like we're stuck between two impossible options. I can't ask you to skip regionals, Alex. I know how much it means to you."

"And I can't ask you to miss your championship," Alex replied quickly, shaking his head. "You've worked so hard for this, Cass. You deserve to be there."

They stared at each other for a moment, both of them feeling the pressure of the situation squeezing tighter. The future they'd been skating toward together suddenly felt fractured, as if the ice beneath them was starting to crack.

"I don't know what to do," Cass whispered, their voice wavering.

Alex swallowed hard, feeling the knot in his throat. "Neither do I. But we'll figure it out. We always do."

Cass gave a small, sad smile. "I hope you're right."

The silence that followed was heavier, thick with the weight of what they weren't saying. Both of them knew that a decision was looming, and no matter what they chose, someone was going to lose something important.

After a long pause, Cass stood up, slinging their bag over their shoulder. "I should probably head home. My mom's going to want to hear all about practice."

Alex nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. He knew Cass would probably brush off how much the news bothered them, try to act like it was just another day, when really, it was anything but.

"Yeah, same," Alex replied, grabbing his own bag. "My parents have been asking about regionals non-stop."

Cass hesitated, their eyes searching Alex's for a moment before they spoke again. "Do you think... I mean, do you think we can really make this work? Both of us?"

Alex wasn't sure how to answer. He wanted to say yes, that they'd find a way through this. But deep down, he wasn't sure. The reality of their situation was beginning to set in, and the pressure to figure it out was only going to get worse.

"I don't know," Alex admitted quietly. "But I hope so."

Cass nodded, their face softening with something like understanding. "Yeah. Me too."

They walked toward the exit together, their footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. When they reached the doors, Cass turned to Alex, their expression more serious than before.

"Let's talk tomorrow. Maybe by then we'll have some idea of how to handle this," they said, their voice calm but laced with uncertainty.

"Yeah, for sure," Alex agreed, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

Cass gave him a brief, tight smile before turning and walking off into the parking lot, their figure disappearing into the fading light. Alex stood there for a moment, watching them go, a sinking feeling settling in his gut.

He pulled out his phone and checked the time, realizing he had a message from his mom waiting: Dinner's ready soon. Don't be late!

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Alex sighed and started walking toward his bike. The ride home felt longer than usual, his thoughts swirling with what Cass had said and the looming choice ahead of them.

When he finally arrived at his house, he was greeted by the warm glow of lights spilling from the kitchen windows. His little brother, Noah, was already at the dinner table, his fork clutched tightly as he playfully stabbed at a pile of mashed potatoes.

Alex stepped inside, trying to shake off the weight of the day as the smell of baked chicken filled the air. His mom turned from the stove, giving him a smile.

"Hey, sweetie! How was practice?"

"Good," Alex lied, setting his bag down by the door.

His dad looked up from his plate, raising an eyebrow. "Just good? You've got regionals coming up. Shouldn't you be excited?"

Alex forced a smile, sitting down across from Noah. "Yeah, I'm excited," he said, though his mind was a million miles away.

As his family started talking about their day, the clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation filled the room. But Alex was barely listening. All he could think about was how everything felt so complicated, and how no matter what happened, something was going to change. He wasn't ready for it-not for the choices, not for the pressure, and definitely not for the distance that was slowly creeping in between him and Cass.

He stabbed at his food, his appetite fading. The familiar warmth of home felt far away, replaced by the cold uncertainty of the ice.

And for the first time in a long while, Alex didn't know where he belonged.