Edges Of Us

The rink at 5 AM was dead quiet except for the low buzz of the lights and the scrape of skates on fresh ice.I was already on the ice doing warm-up laps when the door banged open. Mason walked in, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.He dropped his bag and started pulling out his hockey skates without saying a word.I stopped near the boards. "Gage said figure skating elements. That means figure skates."Mason looked at me like I'd told him to wear a tutu. "I'm not wearing those.""Then good luck falling on your ass every five seconds."I pushed off and did a lap, trying to ignore him. This was supposed to be my quiet time. My ice. Now it was polluted by Mason Reid and his bad attitude.He stepped onto the ice in his heavy hockey skates and immediately proved my point. Three feet in and he wobbled like a newborn deer.I bit back a laugh."Something funny, Cole?" he snapped."You. Obviously." I circled him slowly. "Hockey skates have two edges.

Three weeks in, and this forced training crap still felt like punishment. Every morning at five, Mason and I dragged ourselves onto the ice half-awake and irritated. He was improving — slowly — but he still skated like a hockey player trying to survive a natural disaster. Too stiff, rough and just too much force where there should’ve been control. And somehow he still managed to take up the entire rink. I hated that I noticed things about him now. The sound of his blades cutting too hard into the ice, the way he rolled his shoulders when he was frustrated. And the stupid clean smell of his cologne lingering behind after he skated past me. It was annoying and that was all. This morning, though, something felt off. Mason showed up late again, shoving through the rink doors at almost five-thirty. His hair was damp like he’d showered in a hurry, and there were shadows under his eyes dark enough to bruise. He didn’t say anything when he dropped his bag onto the bench. I didn’t say

We still showed up at 5 AM like clockwork, still barely spoke outside of practice, still acted like we only tolerated each other because Coach forced us to. But somewhere between the early mornings, bruised wrists, and silent rides home, something had shifted underneath all the tension and I couldn’t put my finger on it anymore. That morning, the rink doors opened earlier than usual. Kai walked in carrying his skates over one shoulder, looking way too awake for the hour. The second he spotted us, he grinned like he’d known us for years instead of barely a few weeks. “Morning, guys. Mind if I join again? The coach said the ice is open.” Mason didn’t even look up from lacing his skates, but I noticed the way his shoulders tightened. I shrugged. “Pretty sure neither of us owns the rink.” Kai laughed softly before stepping onto the ice like he belonged there. And honestly? He was really good and smooth in a way that made difficult movements look effortless, like his body just underst

Hospitals were too quiet. Not actually quiet, because there was always something making noise. Nurses talking behind desks. Machines beeping somewhere down the hall. Shoes squeaking against polished floors. But it was the kind of quiet that sat heavy in your chest anyway, the kind that made every bad thought in your head sound louder. I hated it. Lila sat beside me in the waiting area with a paper cup of vending machine coffee in her hands while I stared blankly at the floor tiles for what had to be the hundredth time. "You should eat something," she said softly. I shook my head without looking up. "Ezra." "I said I’m fine." The lie sounded weak even to me. I hadn’t slept properly in almost two days. My mom’s surgery had taken longer than expected, and every time a doctor walked through those double doors, my heartbeat shot up hard enough to make me nauseous. Lila sighed quietly beside me but didn’t push again. That was the thing about her. She knew when to stop. The waitin

Things with Mason got weird after the rink. Not like bad, weird. But honestly that probably would've been easier to deal with. This was worse because now every interaction between us carried this heavy undercurrent neither of us knew how to handle anymore. And the annoying part was that everybody else was starting to notice that too. Especially Kai. “You two are actually painful to watch,” he said during lunch on Thursday while stealing fries off my tray like he paid for them. Lila didn’t even look up from her phone. “I told you.” “Told him what?” I asked suspiciously. “That you and Mason look one emotional breakdown away from making out behind the rink.” I almost choked on my drink while Kai laughed loud enough to earn stares from two nearby tables. “You’re both insane.” “Are we?” Kai leaned back in his chair, clearly entertained. “Because from where I’m sitting, the hockey boy looks at you like he’s trying to solve a problem only you created.” “That literally makes no sens