All Chapters of The Ice Between Us: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The rink is quiet now. Gabby’s gone home with Mom. Lena’s mom stepped out to take a call. It’s just the two of us sitting on the bench near the ice, our skates still on, the cold air settling around us like a blanket. We didn’t do anything but skate. No drama. No pressure. Just… helping her breathe again.Lena sits beside me, legs pulled up, arms wrapped around them. She looks tired, but lighter than she did an hour ago. “Thank you,” she says softly. “For… all of this.”“You don’t have to thank me,” I say. “I wanted to be here.”She looks down at her hands. “I didn’t think I’d ever get back on the ice.”“You did,” I say. “And you will again.” She gives me a small smile, the kind that hits me right in the chest.We’re quiet for a moment, just listening to the hum of the arena lights. Then the doors slam open. Coach Hartman strides in, face tight, jaw clenched. He’s not looking at me, he’s looking at his phone like it personally offended him. “Coach?” I stand. “What’s going on?”He hold

When Coach Daniels told me to trust Hartman and the Silver Wolves’ PR team, I thought he meant they’d release a statement. Maybe schedule a small interview. Something controlled. Something calm. I did not expect this. The moment Evan and I walk into the Wolves’ conference suite, I freeze. It looks like a war room. A dozen people sit around a long table, PR reps, media strategists, lawyers in sharp suits, assistants typing so fast their keyboards sound like rain. Screens line the walls, each displaying paused footage of the Channel 7 teaser, social media feeds, and a timeline of events.My stomach twists. This isn’t damage control. This is a counterstrike. Coach Hartman gestures for us to sit. “We’re starting.”I slide into a chair beside Evan. He gives me a reassuring look, but even he looks overwhelmed. A woman in a navy suit, one of the lawyers, stands. “Let’s review the plan,” she says. “We expect Channel 7 to run an interview tonight. We believe the guest will be Sabrina Hayes.”M

I walk into the rink expecting Coach Ramirez. One coach. One conversation. One chance to cry a little, blame Lisa, and walk out with a warning at worst. Easy. I practiced my lines the whole Uber ride over. I even made myself tear up a little before walking in...just enough to look fragile, not messy.But the second I step into the coaches’ office, my stomach drops. Because it’s not just Coach Ramirez. Coach Daniels is here. And the team lawyer. All three of them sitting behind the desk like a tribunal. This is not good. Ramirez’s jaw is tight. Daniels looks like he hasn’t slept in days. The lawyer has a folder open in front of him, and I can see my name printed on the top. I force a shaky smile. “Coaches… I...I came as soon as you texted.”Ramirez doesn’t smile back. “Sit.” I do.Daniels crosses his arms. “Explain yourself.”I blink innocently. “I...I didn’t know what Lisa was planning. She pushed me into the interview. She twisted everything. I was emotional, and she...”“Stop,” Rami

The rink is too quiet without the hockey team, no pucks slamming against boards. No whistles. No shouting. No Evan. Just the hum of the lights and the scrape of my blades. I’ve been skating since seven this morning. It’s almost noon now. Five hours. Five hours of everything except the one thing I’m supposed to do.Every time I reach the part of the routine where the jump should be, I skip it. I glide past it like it’s a hole in the ice. Like if I get too close, I’ll fall through.Coach Daniels stands at the boards, arms crossed, watching me with that expression he gets when he’s trying to be patient but also wants to shake me. I finish another run‑through, minus the jump, and skate over to him. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just looks at me. I look away.“Lena,” he finally says, “you can’t keep skipping it.”“I know.”“You’ve done every other element clean.”“I know.”“You’re strong enough. You’re ready.”I swallow hard. “I don’t feel ready.”He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his no

The arena is louder than I expected. I knew competitions drew crowds, but after months of training in quiet rinks and frozen ponds, the noise hits me like a wave. People are everywhere, parents, coaches, judges, little kids with posters, other skaters stretching in the hallways. And somewhere in the stands… Evan. I try not to look for him. I fail. He’s easy to spot, tall, broad‑shouldered, wearing a Wolves hoodie and sitting with my parents, his parents, Mason, and Gabe. They’re all talking like they’ve known each other forever. My stomach flips.Daniels notices. “Eyes on me, Merritt.”I snap my gaze back to him. “Sorry.”He gives me a small smile. “You’re fine. Nerves mean you care.”Nerves also mean I might throw up, but I don’t say that. The last few weeks have been brutal, early mornings on the pond, afternoons in the rink, drills until my legs shook, jump attempts until I wanted to scream. My jump is better now. Not perfect. But landable. If I don’t psych myself out.Skaters from