JACE
People say jealousy burns.
They never mention how quietly it starts.
It doesn’t hit you like a violent body check into the boards. It’s more like a hairline fracture in the ice, a tiny, silent crack that opens up beneath your skates until the whole surface shatters and you’re suddenly drowning in the freezing water below.
I slammed my stick against the ice, the sharp crack echoing off the empty steel rafters of The Wolves Den. The puck screamed wide of the net, deflecting off the plexiglass with a dull, frustrating thud that echoed my own chaotic headspace.
"Donovan! What the hell was that?" Coach Daniels bellowed from the bench, his silver whistle clutched tightly in his fist. His forehead was already creased with that deep, familiar line of intense frustration. "That’s the four
