Edge Of The Ice (On Going And Own Book)

Unravelling Threads. 28

The next morning came too quickly. Alex stirred in his bed, the sound of his alarm blaring louder than usual, or maybe it just felt that way after the emotionally exhausting night. He groaned, pulling his pillow over his head to block out the noise. For a moment, he considered skipping practice—just one day. He had been up late, talking with Cass until both of them were too tired to say anything more. It had been good, important even, but now reality was catching up with him.

With a heavy sigh, he tossed the pillow aside and shut off the alarm. It wasn’t just his coaches who would be disappointed if he skipped practice; it would be his teammates, too. And more than that, the guilt of not showing up would gnaw at him all day. He forced himself out of bed, throwing on his practice gear as quickly as possible, his mind still lingering on Cass.

They’d ended the night on better terms, but Alex couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was still hanging by a thread. There was so much more they hadn’t talked about—Cass’s showcase coming up, his regionals, the mounting pressure of everything they had to navigate together. It felt like there was always something lurking under the surface, something waiting to pull them apart again if they didn’t keep working at it.

By the time Alex stepped out into the cold morning air, his breath visible in the early frost, his head was buzzing with thoughts. He hopped on his bike and started toward the rink, the familiar rhythm of pedaling doing little to ease the tension still coiled in his chest.

Practice that morning felt like an endless loop of drills and Coach Greene’s voice snapping orders, his sharp whistle cutting through the cold air. Alex’s legs were heavy as he sprinted across the ice, his stick handling clumsy at times. He could tell Coach was watching him closely, but he wasn’t sure if it was out of concern or frustration.

By the time the scrimmage started, Alex had barely enough energy to stay focused. His body moved through the motions, but his head was miles away—back with Cass, back in that bedroom where they’d had their first real conversation in what felt like forever.

"Alex!" Leo’s voice jarred him out of his thoughts as a puck came flying in his direction. He barely managed to block it in time, the sharp smack of the puck against his stick sending a shock up his arm.

Leo skated over to him, giving him a look that was half concern, half disbelief. “Dude, what’s going on with you today?”

“I’m fine,” Alex muttered, gripping his stick tighter. “Just tired.”

“Tired’s one thing, but you’re totally out of it,” Leo said, frowning. “Coach is gonna start benching you if you keep this up.”

Alex bristled at the thought. The last thing he needed was Coach giving him more grief. “I said I’m fine.”

Leo raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he gave Alex a light shove with his shoulder, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Just don’t start dragging the rest of us down, alright? We need you sharp for regionals.”

Alex nodded, though the weight of Leo’s words only added to the pressure building inside him. “I’ve got it.”

They resumed the scrimmage, but Alex couldn’t shake the tightness in his chest, the feeling that he was slipping—both on and off the ice.

When practice finally ended, Alex was one of the last to leave the locker room. The cold shower hadn’t done much to clear his head, and as he stepped outside, the early afternoon sun felt too bright, too sharp against the stark blue sky. He fished his phone out of his bag, staring at the screen for a moment before finally typing a message to Cass.

Alex: How’s your day going?

He hit send and shoved the phone back into his pocket, trying not to think too much about it. He didn’t want to hover over them, but after last night, it felt important to check in. To make sure they were both still on the same page.

As he walked toward his bike, a voice called out from behind him. “Alex! Wait up!”

He turned to see Coach Greene walking toward him, his usual stern expression in place. Alex tensed, already preparing for whatever lecture was about to come.

Coach stopped in front of him, crossing his arms as he looked Alex over. “You’re not focused out there. This isn’t just about being tired—you’ve been off for a while now.”

Alex shifted uncomfortably, trying to find the right words. “I’m just… dealing with some stuff, Coach.”

Coach Greene raised an eyebrow, his gaze unwavering. “We all have stuff to deal with, Alex. But when you’re out there on the ice, none of that matters. You need to leave it at the door, or it’s going to cost you—and your team.”

Alex swallowed, the weight of his words settling over him. He knew Coach was right, but it didn’t make it any easier. “I’m trying,” he said quietly.

Coach studied him for a moment, then his expression softened—just a fraction. “Look, you’ve got talent. I wouldn’t be pushing you this hard if I didn’t believe in you. But you need to figure out how to get your head in the game, or you’re going to find yourself sitting on the bench during regionals.”

The thought of being benched sent a jolt of fear through Alex. Hockey had always been the one thing he could count on, the one place where he felt in control. He couldn’t lose that, not on top of everything else.

“I’ll get it together,” Alex promised, his voice firm despite the doubt gnawing at him.

Coach nodded, his expression unreadable. “I hope so. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Coach walked away, Alex stood there for a moment, feeling the pressure building inside him once again. It was like the walls were closing in—hockey, Cass, everything pulling at him from all sides. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep juggling it all without something giving way.

With a deep breath, he got on his bike and started the ride home, the cold wind whipping against his face. The text from Cass still sat unanswered in his phone, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead weighed heavier than ever.