Lines We Blur

Chapter 5

When it was Miles Thompson’s turn to host Alex for the first time, he wanted to share something meaningful to him, so he chose ice skating. Alex had recently discovered that, beyond being an exceptional ice hockey player, Miles also worked part-time in the off-season, teaching people how to skate.

Alex knew he was in good hands but couldn’t shake the nervous energy buzzing through him as he and Miles pulled up to the ice rink. The whole place felt foreign and loud, with a faint chill that made him wish he'd brought another jacket. His fingers twitched at his sleeves, pulling them over his palms, eyes darting around at the groups of skaters gliding around. Some looked like they’d been born on the ice, others, like him, clung to the walls with wobbly steps.

Miles, in contrast, looked right at home. Dressed in a loose, worn hoodie and jeans, his face was alight with excitement as he led the way to the rental counter. “C’mon, you’re gonna have fun. I promise.”

Alex tried to play it cool, but he knew the skepticism was written all over his face. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just pretend it’s like a giant, slippery video game.”

Miles snorted as they swapped their shoes for skates. “Exactly. But hey, less button-mashing and more balance this time, alright?”

“Oh, right, I’ll just balance my way out of breaking an arm,” Alex deadpanned, watching as Miles laced up his skates in a practiced, quick motion. He tried to mimic it, but the skates already felt awkward and tight, like his ankles were wrapped in concrete.

After what felt like ages, he finally hobbled his way to the edge of the rink. Just stepping on the ice was an immediate disaster. His feet slid in opposite directions, and he grabbed at the wall with a loud, embarrassing gasp. Miles, already gliding along beside him, spun around and grinned, clearly enjoying himself.

“Show-off,” Alex muttered, holding the wall as though his life depended on it.

Miles skated over, his laughter echoing off the rink walls. “You’ve just got to trust your balance. Lean forward a bit, and remember, small steps.”

Easier said than done. Alex took a tentative step and felt his legs wobble. He somehow managed to stay upright, but every step felt like a new test of his coordination—or lack thereof. Miles circled him, calm and graceful, while Alex tried to keep his feet under control. After a few wobbly laps, Alex had the courage to let go of the wall.

Only to land spectacularly, flat on his back.

Miles’s face appeared above him, offering a hand with a grin. “You’re not half-bad for a beginner. Just… maybe try to keep your feet under you next time?”

As Alex took his hand, he couldn’t help but laugh, surprised by how his frustration melted a bit when he was around Miles. It felt easier, somehow, like the ice was just a part of the game they were both playing.

Miles started to coach him through small techniques, explaining how to find his balance by leaning slightly forward, how to keep his knees bent to absorb any shakiness. For every step Alex managed without stumbling, Miles had a word of encouragement, and soon, Alex was actually skating—awkwardly, yes, but with more confidence than he’d ever expected.

When they took a break, Alex found himself relaxing into the conversation. Miles talked about hockey with an enthusiasm that was infectious, describing the early mornings, the camaraderie, the thrill of being part of a team. “It sounds like a lot of work,” Alex admitted, leaning against the bench.

Miles nodded, looking down at his skates with a small smile. “Yeah, but it’s worth it. Hockey’s kind of where I found my place. Before that, I was just the ‘quiet kid.’ But on the ice… it’s different.”

Alex listened with something close to awe. Miles had this easy confidence in his voice, a quiet determination that Alex admired, even if he’d never admit it out loud. “I don’t think I’d last a day in that kind of sport,” Alex said, half-laughing. “I’m… not exactly athletic.”

“Hey, you survived the ice. That’s something,” Miles said, nudging him playfully. “Besides, who needs sports when you’ve got video games, right?”

Before Alex could respond, a group approached them from across the rink. He recognized a few of them from school—Miles’s friends, judging by the way they greeted him, though their attention flickered to Alex with mild curiosity. A tall girl with auburn hair eyed him with a slight frown before turning back to Miles.

“Seriously, man, don’t you think you’re taking this a bit too seriously?” she said, loud enough that Alex caught every word. “I mean, you’ve already spent, like, all afternoon here.”

Alex’s stomach twisted at her words, and he glanced away, pretending to adjust his skates. He hadn’t realized that he might be intruding on Miles’s usual plans. But he couldn’t ignore the way the girl’s comment stung a little.

Miles, however, stayed calm. He murmured something back, too low for Alex to catch, but whatever he said was enough for his friends to leave them alone, though not without a lingering, curious glance from the auburn-haired girl.

“Am I… keeping you from something?” Alex asked, hesitating. He wanted to sound casual, but the question came out more vulnerable than he’d intended.

Miles shook his head, smiling in that easygoing way that made Alex feel just a bit lighter. “Nah, don’t worry about it. This is your first skating lesson; you’re my priority today.”

They returned to the ice for a few more laps, and this time, Alex found himself actually laughing at his own mistakes. By the end, he was a mess of sore muscles and a growing headache, but there was something exhilarated in him, too—a strange kind of accomplishment.

As they headed out of the rink, Miles gave him a light punch on the arm. “You did pretty good for a first-timer. Next time, you’ll be gliding like a pro.”

Alex rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but grin. “Next time, I’ll probably break a leg.”

“Not on my watch,” Miles replied, flashing a grin that was more reassuring than he’d expected. And as they said goodbye, Alex watched Miles leave, surprised by how easy everything had felt, like the ice between them was finally starting to melt.