Edge Of The Ice (On Going And Own Book)

Fractures Beneath The ice. 34

The next day, Alex arrived at the rink earlier than usual. The cold air hit him like a slap in the face, and the echo of his footsteps bounced off the metal walls. He needed this—needed to be alone with the ice for a bit, to clear his head before everything started piling up again. The rink was quiet, just the hum of the cooling systems and the distant sounds of the janitor finishing up before the day’s sessions began.

He grabbed his skates from his locker and headed onto the ice, the familiar scrape of blades cutting through the stillness. For the first time in days, Alex felt a little more at ease, like the ice was giving him space to breathe.

He started with simple drills—nothing too intense, just enough to get his body moving and his mind focused on something other than the storm of thoughts swirling in his head. But after a few laps, he found himself pushing harder, skating faster, the sharp turns and sudden stops giving him an outlet for everything he’d been bottling up. His muscles burned, but it was a good kind of pain, a reminder that he could still control something in his life.

As he skated, his mind wandered back to Cass. He hadn’t texted them since yesterday, and the guilt was eating at him. He wanted to be there for them, but every time he tried, it felt like something was pulling him back—hockey, school, expectations. It was like he was caught between two worlds, neither of which was willing to let him go.

Just as he was starting to lose himself in the rhythm of his skating, the sound of someone entering the rink broke his focus. He turned to see Coach Greene standing at the edge of the ice, arms crossed, watching him with that familiar stern expression.

“Coach?” Alex called out, skating over, his heart sinking a little. The last thing he needed right now was another lecture.

Coach Greene didn’t say anything at first, just watched him with that same critical gaze. “You’re here early,” he finally said, his voice gruff.

“Yeah. Needed some extra ice time,” Alex replied, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Coach nodded, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “I saw you yesterday. You looked off. What’s going on?”

Alex hesitated, his mind scrambling for the right words. How was he supposed to explain everything that was weighing him down without sounding like he was falling apart?

“Just… a lot on my mind,” Alex said, avoiding Coach’s eyes. “But I’m fine. I’ll be ready for regionals.”

Coach raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’ve got talent, Alex. No one’s questioning that. But talent only gets you so far. If you don’t get your head in the game, you’re going to crack under the pressure.”

The words hit harder than Alex expected. He’d heard them before, from his dad, from his teammates. But coming from Coach, it felt different, like a warning he couldn’t ignore.

“I’m trying, Coach,” Alex said, his voice quieter than he intended.

Coach Greene studied him for a long moment before sighing. “Trying isn’t always enough. You’ve got to figure out what’s holding you back. Whether it’s in your control or not, you need to deal with it.”

Alex nodded, though the knot in his chest only tightened. He knew what Coach was saying was true, but hearing it didn’t make it any easier to figure out. It just made the pressure feel more real, like it was looming over him, waiting for him to slip.

Coach clapped him on the shoulder, a rare gesture of encouragement from him. “Get your mind straight, Alex. You’ve got potential. Don’t waste it.”

With that, he turned and walked off the ice, leaving Alex standing there, his heart racing in the silence.

He wanted to scream, to hit something, to let out the frustration that was eating him alive. But instead, he skated again, pushing himself harder and faster, until his legs ached and his chest heaved with the effort.

But no matter how fast he skated, he couldn’t outrun the thoughts swirling in his head.