Page 58 of Cold Front
Coach AJ and Rookie Coach followed, leaving the rest of us in thick, uncomfortable silence.
I barely paid attention. My mind was a mess of static.
Roman dropped onto the bench beside me, the old wood creaking under his weight. His gaze slid over me, studying my face like he was looking for something hidden. I shifted slightly, trying to keep my posture casual, but my shoulders felt tight, like I was holding onto something I couldn’t quite let go of.
“You were off tonight,” Roman said, his voice low but not quiet.
“Yeah. I know.”
I clenched my fists in my lap, nails digging into my palms. I couldn’t shake the feeling that his eyes were boring into me, digging beneath the surface. The air between us seemed to hum with unspoken questions.
Roman didn’t look away. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.” My jaw tensed. I didn’t meet his eyes.
“Bullshit.”
I gritted my teeth, the muscles in my jaw locked tight. I felt my body tense up, my spine straightening, but I forced myself to breathe, trying to maintain control. My eyes flicked toward the locker room doors, then back to Roman, who was still watching me.
“Just a bad game,” I muttered, my voice rougher than I wanted it to be.
Roman hummed, unconvinced. But he let it go. His shoulders relaxed, and he leaned back against the lockers, still too aware of me for my liking.
* * *
Saturday night, we scraped out a win.
Logan was unbelievable in net, making save after save like he was everywhere at once. Nico threw himself in front of the puck, taking it straight to the face, but somehow kept it out of the net. Hunter managed to get a stick on the puck, and it ricocheted off a few players before landing in the net. It wasn’t pretty, but somehow, we scraped out a 3-2 victory. A win’s a win, even when it feels like the game was more luck than skill.
I showered quickly, the sting of hot water barely registering. My mind wouldn’t stop racing—kept circling back to Eli. His laugh. The way he’d looked at me. That damn kiss. It felt like I couldn’t escape the image of him, no matter how hard I tried.
I could call him. Text him. Say something.
But what the hell would I even say?
Instead, I sat on my bed in the hotel room, scrolling through Eli’s Instagram, letting his photos pull me in. His feed was full of moments most people would overlook: a single leaf caught in the sunlight, its edges frayed by the early fall chill; a lone acorn resting on a patch of moss, the color of the earth rich and deep against its tan shell.
There was something about those photos. Something I couldn’t quite put into words. They made me feel like Eli saw the world in a way I hadn’t in years. The way he noticed things—things I’d forgotten how to see. Like he’d found beauty in the quiet, the small, and the fleeting.
I kept scrolling, my finger moving absentmindedly through his pictures, but the further I went, the more I couldn’t look away. I found myself tracing each image, letting it pull me deeper into his world. And then I stopped.
One photo—just a simple trail in the woods, the one we’d walked together—stopped me cold. It was from early September, the leaves just starting to hint at change. The light in that photo was soft, warm.
In the corner, a squirrel clung to a tree, its little paws gripping the bark. I could almost hear Eli’s laugh from that day. His face had lit up when he saw the squirrel. It wasn’t just the photo—it was everything about the moment. The way Eli had laughed so freely, so honestly. The way he looked at the world as though everything in it mattered. He’d snapped a ton of photos, most of which I hadn’t seen, but I couldn’t remember a single moment feeling more real.
I let my finger hover over the picture, the weight of my realization sinking in. A slow, sinking feeling settled in my chest.
I hadn’t realized it back then—not fully—but looking at this now it was so damn clear. I’d been heading down this path for days. Maybe even longer. At first, I thought I was just trying to get through practice, trying to avoid him, trying not to notice the way he smiled too brightly or the way his eyes seemed to always find mine. But now... now I saw it. I had been falling for Eli in ways I hadn’t been ready to face.
I hadn’t even given myself the chance to process it, to think it through, but there it was. His photos, his moments—they made me feel something. Something I hadn’t expected. I wasn’t just falling for his smile or the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he cared about. I was falling for everything about him. His way of seeing the world. The way he made me see it, too.
Eli had somehow made it past my walls until he was standing next to me inside the fortress I’d built and exiled myself in… And I hadn’t even realized I was the one who’d opened the door to let him walk right in.
I exhaled slowly, trying to push the knot forming in my stomach. I couldn’t keep pretending I felt nothing. But admitting it—actually acknowledging it—felt like stepping into something I wasn’t sure I could handle.
Just as the weight of it all started to sink in, I heard the creak of the door and saw Roman flop down on his bed, towel still draped around his neck. His eyes—usually glued to his phone—were fixed on me now, sharp with curiosity.
“You gonna tell me what’s up?” he asked, voice laced with that familiar, easy-going tone.
