Page 5 of Goalies Don't Date Ice Princesses

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I tossed and turned for over an hour that night before I accepted sleep wasn’t coming to me tonight.

The insomnia had crept up on me again, just like it did every year. It was always better at the end of the summer, the beginning of the school year, when I had so many other things to focus on. Making sure I had everything I needed for school, moving into my dorm, catching up with all my friends—figure skating took a back seat and it was for the best. I slept easily every night and pretty much forgot what it was like to struggle with it. And, without fail, I always convinced myself that maybe it actually was the end of it this year. That those awful sleepless nights wouldn’t start again.

And then competition season started, and the cycle began again.

I climbed down from the bottom bunk just before one a.m. Sometimes, I hated to give into the insomnia and admit it was getting the best of me, but I also knew it wasn’t fair to poor Adelynn on the bottom bunk to have me pulling an exorcist above her. Better that I got out of bed. And if I was out of bed, it was better I just left the room entirely.

As I pulled on my skating clothes, I shot off a quick text to Katarina, letting her know I needed to sue her window again. She didn’t answer, but I wasn’t worried. She said she would just leave her door unlocked every night so I could come through if I needed—it wasn’t like anyone else was going to go around breaking into the rooms.

Once I was dressed, I slipped out of the room, closing the door as softly as possible behind me, not wanting to wake Adelynn. She knew about my insomnia—it was a little hard to hide something like that from your roommate—but that didn’t mean she needed to be woken up every time I left. And maybe I knew deep down that she would be worried about me having two bad nights in a row. She’d recommended that I go to see a guidance counselor or someone about this a few times, but she quieted down very quickly when I turned her advice back on her about her own issues. Since then, we’d mostly learned to keep silent about it. We were both fighting some bad inner demons and there were some things left better unsaid when it came to that.

I made my usual trip to the rink with no issues and within ten minutes, had my skates on and was heading for the ice. As I walked up the ramp, I wondered how Archer would act when he see me there. Would he react at all? Would he even speak to me? Or would he just stick to his side of the ice and expect me to stay on mine like last night?

As I stepped inside, the chill of the rink embraced me, sending a shiver down my spine that was thrilling. I took a deep breath, my skates gliding effortlessly over the smooth ice. With each stroke, I could feel my worries melt away, replaced by a sense of freedom. I started skating a lap around the rink, anticipation building within me as I neared Archer’s corner of the rink.

Archer was skating, his dark eyes were focused intently on the ice ahead. I couldn’t help but admire him as I watched him, each stride powerful. It was clear that he had a natural talent, effortlessly maneuvering across the ice in a way that made him seem almost like he was flying. He effortlessly weaved in and out of imaginary opponents, performing stick-handling moves that showed his skill. The puck seemed to obey his every command, gliding along the ice. Each turn, each flick of his wrist, was executed flawlessly, showcasing a mastery of the sport that left me speechless. It was obvious that he had dedicated countless hours to the game.

As Archer reached the end of the rink, he unleashed a powerful shot that sent the puck soaring towards the net. The echoes of its impact reverberated through the arena, filling the air with a resounding thud. But instead of celebrating, his expression shifted into one of frustration, like he still had higher expectations of himself.

Unable to resist any longer, I skated closer to him, my heart pounding in my chest. As I approached, Archer finally turned his attention towards me, his intense gaze piercing through me like a frigid wind. There was a mixture of surprise and annoyance in his eyes, as if he hadn’t expected me to have the audacity to come near him.

“Hey,” I called out.

Without saying a word, he skated towards me, his movements fluid and controlled. The air around us seemed to crackle with tension as we stood face to face on the cold ice, each breathing heavily.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of curiosity. There was a brief pause as we both stood there, unsure of what to say next.

“I thought you were a goalie,” I blurted out. His eyebrows pulled together and he stared at me.

“I am.”

“Oh.” I glanced at him, then at the hockey stick in his hand. “I don’t know much about hockey, but... why are you practicing shooting if you’re a goalie?”

He stared at me for a long few seconds. I was pretty sure he was trying to decide whether I was worthy of an answer. Finally, he sighed and leaned against the boards, his gaze fixated on the empty net in front of us.

“Just because I’m a goalie on the team doesn’t mean it’s the only part of the game I like,” he said, his voice low and steady. He always spoke like that, like he was never interested in the conversation at hand. Adelynn told me not to take it personally, and that he was like that with everyone. “I’m not here to practice. Just to have fun.”

Wasn’t that the same as I was doing? Except instead of hockey, it was figure skating for me.

“Me too,” I said, feeling like I had to share something about myself. Archer continued staring at me silently—as I was used to now. I wrung my fingers awkwardly in front of me. “Anyway… go back to your practice. I’ll just…” I jerked a thumb over my shoulder towards my side of the rink. Then, not wanting to be stared at any longer, I skated away.

“I don’t know much about figure skating,” Archer said behind me. I froze in place, not wanting to miss a word. “But from what I do know—you seem really good.”

When I turned to look at him, he’d already gone back to playing his one-person game of hockey as if we hadn’t spoken at all.

six

“Yes,Mom, I promise I’m eating.” I laid back on my bed with my phone pressed to my ear and tried not to groan as my mother continued on in her never-ending speech about how I needed to eat enough to keep up with the amount of exercise I was doing. She always acted like I was new to skating this much, even though I’d been on the team since starting boarding school when I was twelve. When I still lived at home, I’d only been skating two or three times a week, unlike the six practices I had now, and she was nervous about the “toll it could take on my body”.

“Honey, I think she understands,” Dad said, cutting Mom off as she started in on her rant about how salads weren’t enough. As if she had ever seen me eat salad as an entire meal.

“Yes, I do,” I said. “I have been going to boarding school for over four years now, you know.”

“I just worry about you,” Mom said. “You’re so far away.”

Mom said that all the time, which was a little funny considering they were the ones who suggested the idea of boarding school to me, not the other way around. They’d both gone to boarding school as teenagers and loved the experience, and wanted to offer it to me as well. I guess she just didn’t realize how hard it was to be the parent in that situation until I was gone.

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