Edge Of The Ice (On Going And Own Book)

Unravelling Threads. 22

The next morning, Alex woke up feeling the weight of the conversation with Cass still hanging over him. He lay in bed for a few extra minutes, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together what they could possibly do. Every option felt like a dead-end, a choice between letting himself down or letting Cass down. Neither felt right.

With a groan, he dragged himself out of bed and got ready for school. The dull hum of the house echoed through the hallway as his parents moved about their morning routine, and Noah’s energetic footsteps raced up and down the stairs. It was a stark contrast to the heaviness sitting in Alex’s chest.

By the time he reached the kitchen, his mom was packing lunches, humming softly to herself. She glanced up as he entered, offering a smile. “Morning, honey. You look tired.”

“Yeah, just a lot on my mind,” Alex muttered, grabbing a banana from the counter.

“Is it the regionals?” she asked, her tone concerned but casual.

Alex hesitated, the truth sitting on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to tell her everything, how torn he felt between hockey and being there for Cass, how impossible it all seemed. But he knew his mom, and as much as she cared, she wouldn’t really understand. To her, hockey was just a sport, something fun and competitive, not the consuming part of his identity it had become.

“Yeah, kind of,” he finally said, forcing a smile. “Just trying to stay focused.”

“Well, you’ve been working hard. Don’t forget to take a breath sometimes,” she said, sliding his lunch into his backpack. “We’re proud of you, no matter what happens.”

The words made something in Alex’s chest tighten. He wanted to believe that, but it didn’t feel that simple. Everything felt like it was riding on the choices he and Cass were about to make.

Noah appeared in the doorway, his backpack slung over one shoulder, hair still wild from sleep. “You ready, Alex? Gonna be late if we don’t leave now.”

Alex nodded, grabbing his stuff and heading toward the door. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The ride to school was mostly quiet. Noah had his headphones in, lost in whatever game he was playing on his phone, and Alex was lost in his thoughts. The rhythm of the bike pedals beneath him didn’t offer the usual release he felt when he was skating. Instead, it felt like each push brought him closer to a decision he wasn’t ready to make.

By the time they reached school, the usual morning buzz of students filled the air, but Alex’s mind was elsewhere. As he walked through the halls, weaving between clumps of people, he spotted Cass near their locker, already talking to a group of friends from their art class. Cass caught Alex’s eye and gave him a small, knowing smile.

Alex headed over, leaning against the locker beside Cass. “Morning.”

“Hey,” Cass replied, their voice softer than usual. “You doing okay?”

Alex shrugged. “Better, I guess. Still thinking about everything.”

Cass nodded, their own shoulders tense. “Same. But… I was thinking last night, maybe we don’t have to decide everything right away. There’s time, right? We’ll just keep doing what we’re doing for now, and maybe something will change. Or… we’ll figure it out as we go.”

Alex exhaled, feeling a flicker of relief. It wasn’t a solution, but it was something. “Yeah. That sounds like a plan. I mean, it’s not like we’ve got all the answers right now anyway.”

Cass’s lips curved into a small smile. “Exactly. One step at a time, right?”

Alex nodded, feeling lighter, if only for a moment. As the bell rang, signaling the start of class, they shared a brief glance—one that said they were in this together, no matter how messy it got.

“Catch you later?” Cass asked as they started to head toward their respective classrooms.

“Yeah, definitely,” Alex replied, giving a quick wave before disappearing into the crowded hallway.

As he made his way to homeroom, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, they’d find a way to navigate all this. But as much as he wanted to believe it, the uncertainty still lingered in the back of his mind, quietly gnawing away.