Edge Of The Ice (On Going And Own Book)

Unraveling Threads 25

After lunch, Alex found himself dreading practice more than usual. As much as he loved hockey, it was hard to shake the growing feeling that the ice wasn’t the same escape it used to be. Every drill, every pass, every whistle from Coach Greene felt like another weight pressing down on him. But the expectation—his own, his team’s, and especially Coach Greene’s—was always there, pushing him to be better, faster, more focused.

Cass had drifted away after lunch, heading to the art room to finish a sketch they’d been working on. Alex hated that the lunch table had turned awkward, that they’d been quiet again because of someone like Leo. They deserved more than him constantly balancing two worlds, trying to keep hockey and Cass from crashing into each other. It felt impossible.

After the final bell rang, Alex slung his backpack over his shoulder and made his way to the locker room. The sound of laughter and clattering skates echoed down the hall before he even walked through the door. His teammates were already inside, pulling on their gear and cracking jokes about the upcoming tournament.

“Hey, Alex!” Leo called from his bench, still full of energy. “You ready to lead us through some drills today?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Alex muttered, forcing a grin.

Coach Greene appeared at the far end of the locker room, clipboard in hand, his sharp eyes scanning the players. He didn’t say much, but Alex could feel the weight of his attention when their eyes met.

"Alright, listen up," Coach barked. "Today’s practice is about speed and precision. I don’t want anyone slacking—this isn’t just another warm-up. This is about getting you ready for regionals. You need to be faster than your opponents, sharper on the ice, or you’re gonna get left behind."

Alex felt his chest tighten as Coach’s words hung in the air. Normally, the adrenaline of competition fueled him, but today, it felt like another reminder of how much was at stake. And yet, as much as he tried to focus on the rink, his mind kept slipping back to Cass.

The team filed out onto the ice, the cold air biting at Alex’s face as he laced up his skates and took his position. The sharp sound of blades cutting across the ice usually soothed him, but not today. Every lap around the rink felt like he was going through the motions, his focus splintering in a dozen directions. Coach blew his whistle, setting them up for a scrimmage, but even as Alex took the puck, weaving through defenders, his thoughts drifted.

Cass’s face from lunch, the tight smile they gave him when Leo turned everything into a joke—he couldn’t stop thinking about it. They’d always been patient with him, understanding about his dedication to hockey, but Alex knew it wasn’t fair. Not when Cass had their own dreams, their own pressures, and he was barely giving them the space to talk about it.

"Alex! Focus!" Coach Greene’s voice boomed across the rink, snapping him back to reality just in time to avoid colliding with a teammate.

Alex cursed under his breath, feeling the sting of embarrassment as the rest of the team gave him questioning glances. He skated harder, pushing himself, trying to drown out everything but the game. But no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept pulling him back to Cass.

After what felt like an eternity, practice finally ended, and the team trudged back to the locker room, their energy sapped. Alex hung back, taking his time unlacing his skates, hoping to avoid more questions from Coach or Leo.

He was just about to leave when Coach Greene’s voice cut through the locker room. “Alex, a word.”

Alex froze, his stomach dropping. He nodded stiffly, waiting for the inevitable lecture as the other players filed out, leaving him alone with Coach.

Coach Greene crossed his arms, his usual hard expression softer than usual, though no less serious. “You’ve been distracted lately.”

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Coach held up a hand, silencing him.

“I’m not here to chew you out, kid. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. But you’ve gotta get your head in the game before regionals, or you’re gonna fall behind. You’ve got the potential to lead this team, Alex. Don’t let whatever’s going on outside the rink mess that up.”

Alex swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Coach’s words settle heavily on his shoulders. “I know, Coach. I’m trying.”

Coach’s gaze softened, if only slightly. “Just remember what got you here. You’ve got talent, but talent alone isn’t enough. It’s about focus, discipline. And I can see that slipping.”

Alex nodded again, even though every word felt like another reminder of how impossible it was to balance everything. “I’ll do better,” he muttered.

Coach clapped him on the shoulder, his grip firm. “I know you will. Now go home, rest up, and clear your head. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Alex left the locker room, his skates slung over his shoulder, the icy wind outside hit him like a slap in the face. He pulled out his phone, staring at the blank screen. He wanted to text Cass, to apologize for how distant he’d been, to explain everything. But as he stood there, frozen in place, the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and started walking, the weight of everything heavier than it had ever been.