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Chapter 15: Between Two Benches

Author: Tear stained lore
last update publish date: 2026-06-26 00:06:35

For a second, everything around me dropped away. The crowd, the music, the announcer calling out names like this, was the biggest night of the season. It all blurred into something distant and hollow because Richard Hart was looking straight at me from across the arena, like he’d been waiting for me to notice.

He was smiling. Of course he was.

Then Mason stepped up beside him. I couldn’t hear what he said, but Richard answered without breaking eye contact with me, like I wasn’t supposed to
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  • Across The Ice: Falling for my ex’s biggest rival   Chapter 34: Old Ice

    For the first time in weeks, I woke up because my body had decided it was finished sleeping instead of because an alarm had bullied me out of bed. Morning light spilled through the gap in my curtains, warming one side of the room. I lay there for another minute, appreciating the novelty of having nowhere to sprint off to.My phone buzzed.Dad Calling.“Morning,” I answered.“Well, somebody sounds suspiciously happy.”“I slept.”“I knew something was wrong.”I laughed.Our conversations never followed a straight line. Within five minutes we’d somehow gone from my sleep schedule to the fact that he’d nearly burnt breakfast because he’d been watching the news.“It wasn’t burnt,” he insisted.“It was.”“It was well done.”“It was a fire hazard.”“It built character.”“It built smoke.”His laugh filled the speaker, and mine followed without much effort.Eventually he asked about school.“How’s journalism?”“Busy.”“I’ll take busy over boring.”“So will I.”“And Easton?”I glanced at the

  • Across The Ice: Falling for my ex’s biggest rival   Chapter 33: New Season

    Monday reminded me that the rest of the world didn’t care about my personal plot twists. Northbridge carried on exactly as it always had. Students hurried across campus balancing coffee cups and unfinished assignments, professors looked personally offended by anyone arriving thirty seconds late, and the journalism building buzzed with conversations about deadlines, ethics, and a guest lecture that apparently half the department was pretending to be excited about. For the first time in over a week, my day belonged entirely to Northbridge. After my morning lectures, I headed for the library with my laptop, camera, and a growing list of assignments I had been politely ignoring while my life revolved around Easton. The quiet was familiar, almost comforting. Nobody here cared about hockey statistics or feature articles. They cared about headlines, interviews, deadlines, and whether a photograph could tell a story before a caption ever had to. I spent the next few hours editing photos

  • Across The Ice: Falling for my ex’s biggest rival   Chapter 32: Final Draft

    I didn’t sleep much. Every time I started drifting off, my mind circled back to the same unanswered question. Dean’s car. Mason outside my dorm. The moment I turned around and realized Dean had already driven away. I had no idea how much he’d seen, and the uncertainty followed me all the way to Easton the next morning. The athletic center was running on pure preseason energy. Coaches crossed the halls with clipboards tucked under their arms, trainers pushed equipment carts from one room to another, and players seemed to be everywhere at once. The regular season was only days away, and the entire building felt like it had collectively decided there was no more time to waste. I had barely set my camera bag on my desk when Melissa looked up from her computer. “There you are.” “I don’t know whether to be relieved or concerned.” “That depends.” She held up a printed folder. “Your feature’s finished.” I took it carefully, suddenly more nervous than I’d expected. “Already?” “You met

  • Across The Ice: Falling for my ex’s biggest rival   Chapter 31: Old Habits

    “You shouldn’t be here.” The words were out before I could soften them. Mason stood outside my dorm with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, looking like he had every intention of waiting until I acknowledged him. Behind me, Dean’s car was still parked where he’d left it. I assumed he was checking something on his phone before driving off and thought nothing of it. Mason gave a tired smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Probably not.” “I told you I didn’t want to do this.” “I know.” He shifted his weight, looking around the quiet courtyard before settling his attention back on me. “But you stopped answering my calls, and I figured if I wanted one chance to say this properly, I’d have to do it in person.” I sighed. “Mason…” “No, just… hear me out. Then I’ll leave.” I almost told him no. I should have. Instead, I stood there while a cold breeze slipped between the buildings, carrying the last of the evening chatter from students heading back to their dorms. “I’ve spen

  • Across The Ice: Falling for my ex’s biggest rival   Chapter 30: Learning Curves

    The skates in Dean’s hands looked less like sports equipment and more like a threat to my well-being. I glanced between them and his entirely too calm expression. “You’re joking.” “I’m not.” “I’ve never done this before.” “I know.” “I could die.” “You won’t.” “That’s exactly what people say before someone dies.” His mouth twitched, amusement slipping through despite his attempt to stay serious, and he sat on the bench like this was the most ordinary plan in the world, setting the skates down in front of me. “Come here.”I glanced around the empty arena as if someone else might volunteer. “There isn’t anyone else you can teach?” “No.” “What terrible luck.” “Iris.” “Hm?” “Sit.” I dropped onto the bench with a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.” “You already did.” “I was emotionally manipulated.” “I suggested.” “You suggested with confidence.” “That usually works.” “It really shouldn’t.” Before I could protest

  • Across The Ice: Falling for my ex’s biggest rival   Chapter 29: Thin Ice

    I had three pages of notes and thirty-seven photos, and none of it translated into a finished article. The cursor blinked on the blank page, waiting.“This is your thinking face.”Melissa leaned against the doorway with a coffee, watching me like she’d walked in on a rerun she’d seen before.“I thought my thinking face looked smarter.”“It does,” she said, dragging a chair over and sitting across from me. “That’s the problem.”I slid the notebook toward her. She flipped through it slowly, humming under her breath as she skimmed, pausing here and there like she was testing the weight of something. When she closed it, she didn’t rush to fill the silence, which made me sit up straighter.“Interesting.”“That’s all?” I asked.She tapped the cover. “You’ve barely written anything.”“I know.”“No tragic backstory. No dramatic angle. No headline that screams for attention.”“I know,” I said again, quieter.She leaned back, studying me with something closer to curiosity than criticism. “The f

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