Holiday Hockey Tale: The Icebreaker's Impasse Novels & Stories

He had a seizure while I was tending to Enzo, but I heard from Tiffany that he turned out okay -- but he would be disqualified from participating in hockey for the rest of his time in university and was on probation at his school. Even though the game ended early, our team still won since we had several more points than the other team by the time Enzo was attacked, which meant two things: the hockey team would be moving onto the next round of the tournament, and the party would still be held. I didn’t want to go to the party. I was planning on going home, but before I could get away, Jessica and Lori cornered me and talked me into it. “C’mon!” Jessica whined, pressing her hands together in a

We stayed a little longer, talking about nothing and everything, about his first practice back, about my classes, about how Logan somehow managed to trip over the penalty box door last week. When my toes started going numb, Hayden finally stood. “Alright, let’s get you out of here before you lose circulation.” I stood too, unsteady on my skates. “Do I get a certificate for surviving my first night on the ice?” “You get bragging rights.” “That’s it?” “And maybe hot chocolate.” I pretended to think it over. “Hot chocolate seems like a fair reward.” We left the rink together, our breath fogging in the night air. As we reached the path back toward my apartment, he slowed his pace just enough to

CALEB “You've not told me what you do, Rowan.” That was Dad speaking. I was tired. Tired of this moment and would stop if I had a chance. I didn't even want to be here. Not for any reason. Not now or ever, but what choice did they leave me with? “Mom, Dad. Have you forgotten Rowan belongs to the opposing ice hockey team in the school?” I was going to enjoy this moment. No one needed to tell me. I already knew.

She’s always been easy to read, I’ve never had to question whether she felt something, and now I’m sitting here watching her like this, I don’t even know what the hell I’m looking at anymore. That’s what snaps something loose inside my chest. I drag a hand down my face, sweat cooling against my skin as the guys start filing off the ice around me, tapping my shoulder while shouting something about an after party. I barely register a word of it. A slow, dangerous breath leaves my lungs as I turn, skating harder than I need to toward the tunnel. My stick hits the boards with a sharp crack as I step off the ice and snaps in half. Red clouds my eyes and I move quickly to dodge the media in front

leanor replied. Her hands were clenched under the table, she wished she could hit the sly smile away from Erica's face. She chewed her tongue quietly to suppress her anger. She knew she needed to endure for the sake of her son. Erica looked at her in surprise. Was Leanor really not hurt? Her face looked very beautiful and fair, she wore a black retro suit. Erica gritted her teeth at how beautiful Leanor looks, after what happened four years ago, Leanor should have been broken and not able to pick her life back.

Mark had flipped the narrative so flawlessly that Ryder was now framed as a ruthless, manipulative hacker trying to destroy State, while Mark stood as the noble savior who caught the breach just in time. Down on the ice, the arena erupted into deafening boos aimed directly at the Westbridge bench. Ryder stood near the red line, looking up at the jumbotron in absolute disbelief. The live camera zoomed in on his face—his dark eyes burning with helpless fury, his knuckles turning white around his stick. Two campus security officers stepped onto the ice sheet, heading straight for the Westbridge bench to escort Ryder off the rink for questioning. "Mark, please," I pleaded, my voice trembling as

“Stop looking for a reason to ruin this, man. Just let it be good.” “I’m not trying to ruin it.” “Then tell your face that.” The whistle blew again, sharp and loud. Eli skated off to join the next line. I stayed put for a second, staring at the scuff marks on the ice. He wasn’t entirely wrong, and that just annoyed me more. I knew how to handle hockey. I knew how to handle campus politics and scouts. I had no idea how to handle being in a normal relationship. Later that night, I was standing in my kitchen drinking a glass of water when my phone rang. The screen lit up on the counter. It was my mom.

He skates over to me, his movements abrupt and uncertain. I raise an eyebrow, wondering what he's up to. He stops in front of me, holding out the broken hockey stick like some kind of peace offering. I snatch it from him, the gesture is meaningless to me. "What am I supposed to do with a busted hockey stick?" I deadpan, staring at the broken piece of equipment in my hands. It's not like I'm a professional stick repairer or anything. "One of your players decided to use it as a tripping hazard and then told me it was valuable. I didn't want it to go to waste,"

The scoreboard above the center ice blared a stressful, heart stopping tie: 3 - 3. The two teams were completely on par with each other, matching goal for goal, hit for hit. The Hawks were having a horribly hard time keeping up with the brutal, non stop Russian offensive line. Julian’s teammates were visibly exhausted, their breathing heavy and ragged behind their plastic visors. Ken had been slammed hard into the plexiglass minutes earlier, bruising his shoulder, but he forced himself to stay on the ice, his face twisted in pain. The clock was ticking down mercilessly.

(Adeline’s POV) “Dwarf, hurry up!” Juan’s voice thundered from downstairs. Irritation laces every word. I rolled my eyes while struggling to clasp the back of my dress. It was already 7 p.m., and clearly, he was getting impatient. Let him wait. He was the one who dragged me to his hockey team’s victory celebration. I could’ve stayed home, ordered takeout, and watched trashy reality TV. Finally, done. I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs.