“That tracks. Kyle would rather chew glass than admit he’s in pain.”
“I noticed it during warm-ups. The way he was rotating hisarm—there was a hitch. I pulled him aside after practice, and he bit my head off. But I got him on the table, worked through the adhesions, and set him up with a corrective exercise program. By the playoffs, his range of motion was back to baseline.”
“I remember that. He was a wall in the Frozen Four. That save in the third period? He wouldn’t have made it with the restricted shoulder. Not at that angle.”
“I’m looking forward to continuing to help you guys next semester,” Alex says. “My dad has already spoken with the athletic department to make me full-time.”
“Alex, that’s awesome!”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Itisa big deal. You’re about to be a junior, and you’ve already locked down a position that usually goes to grad students. Own it.”
He fidgets with the wrapper of his granola bar, folding it into smaller and smaller squares. But he’s smiling. A real smile that transforms his whole face from anxious porcelain doll to actual human being. “Thanks. I’m—yeah. I’m looking forward to it.”
Silence fills the space between us. Alex brushes the crumbs off the table while I tap my fingers against my thigh, counting the seconds of quiet.One Mississippi, two Mississippi.The clock on the wall ticks forward.
“Oliver?” Alex’s voice drops to barely above a whisper, his eyes fixed on his delicate hands rather than meeting mine.
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“I noticed you’ve been staring at the door a lot today. Like you’re waiting for a specific someone to walk in.”
My mouth pops open. I didn’t think anyone had noticed. Apparently, I’m about as subtle as Gerard at a nude beach. “It’s nothing,” I say automatically.
Alex nods. He doesn’t push or pry, which somehow makes me want to tell him more than any amount of prodding would.
“There’s this guy—you’ve met him, actually. Ryan Abrams. We were friends when we were kids. I’ve been trying to reconnect, but he’s…” I wave my hand vaguely. “Skittish.”
“Skittish how?”
“Every time we cross paths, he’s already searching for the nearest exit. If I could get five minutes with him?—”
“You could fix it,” Alex finishes.
I blink, surprised at his astuteness. “Yeah. Exactly.”
“Some people aren’t avoiding you because they don’t want to talk. They’re avoiding you because they’re afraid of what happens if they do.”
His words land deep in my chest, specifically in the space between my ribs where I keep the things I’m too afraid to say out loud. “Speaking from experience?” I ask gently.
Alex’s ears flame red as he flies to his feet. “We should check on the guys. I think I heard something else break.”
I didn’t hear anything, but I let him have the out. He gave me something real, whether he meant to or not. The least I can do is not make him regret it.
“Yeah,” I say, hauling myself out of the death trap chair with a groan.
As we get back to work, I can’t stop thinking about people who run away because they care too much.
I’ve been playing this all wrong with Ryan. Instead of hunting him down like some desperate hockey goon, I need to plant myself somewhere he’ll stumble across me naturally. Give him the space to approach on his own terms.
ICE QUEEN BLOG POST #1
The Captain Has Left the Chat(stity belt)
