When The Ice Melts

The Lift

The sharp hiss of the locker room’s metal door closing echoed through the tiled space as Matt stepped inside, the faint scent of sweat and ice still hanging in the air. His eyes landed on Anthony, who had just pulled off his sweatshirt, the fabric sticking slightly to his back from the game’s intensity.

"Bro," Matt called out, stepping closer, his voice casual but firm. "What was that out there on the ice?"

Anthony didn’t say a word. He grabbed a towel from the bench and slung it over his shoulder, heading straight toward the shower stalls like Matt hadn’t spoken.

Matt frowned, quickening his steps. "Anthony," he tried again, softer this time. "Talk to me, man. You’ve never played like that before. Something happened?"

Still nothing. Anthony pushed the curtain aside and disappeared into the steam, water already hissing down from one of the nozzles. Matt stood at the threshold, hands on his hips, debating whether to push more. He wasn’t the type to force words out of someone, especially not Anthony, who usually talked only when he felt like it.

"Fine," Matt muttered under his breath. "I’ll wait outside."

He turned and walked back through the locker room, the sound of running water fading behind him. As he stepped out into the open air, the crowd from the hockey game was long gone, the bleachers mostly empty except for the distant sound of a janitor gathering trash.

Matt glanced toward the spot where Tracy had been sitting. Empty.

He wasn’t surprised. Not really. He’d watched her quietly for a while now — always sitting at the back, always sketching, always alone. She had this calm around her, a kind of stillness he couldn’t explain. He didn’t fully understand what drew him in, but he’d felt it. That pull.

With a small sigh, Matt sat on the bench near the locker room doors, elbows resting on his knees. A breeze rustled through the trees surrounding the rink. After a few minutes, he heard the locker room door creak again.

Anthony emerged, dressed now, bag slung over his shoulder, eyes distant.

Matt stood up, brushing his palms against his jeans. "You weren’t gonna wait for me?"

Anthony kept walking.

Matt called after him, "Come on, man, how do you expect me to drive like this with my leg still recovering?"

That made Anthony stop.

He turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting Matt’s with something unreadable.

Matt grinned lightly and shook his head. "Took you long enough. What’s going on with you? You know you can talk to me, right?"

Anthony shifted his gaze away. "It’s nothing serious. Just thinking about the pack stuff. Our coming of age ceremony is in a month. There’s a lot to prepare."

"Ah," Matt said, nodding. "Yeah, I get that. Alpha responsibilities and all."

Anthony glanced at him sideways. "Exactly. And my dad’s been on my case more than usual. He wants everything to be perfect."

Matt laughed quietly. "When does he not?"

"Fair point," Anthony said, the faintest hint of a smile twitching at his lips.

There was a silence between them. Comfortable. Familiar.

Then Anthony lifted his chin toward the parking lot. "You coming or what? I’ve got some things to handle at home."

Matt grabbed his bag from the bench. "Yeah, let’s roll. You driving though. My leg still hates me."

Anthony didn’t argue. He just turned and led the way.

The walk to the car was quiet, the evening settling over them like a soft blanket. Crickets chirped in the distance, and the cold hum of the rink’s lights buzzed behind them.

Matt opened the passenger door slowly. "You know, this whole Alpha heir thing?" he said as he slid in. "It’s going to change everything."

Anthony sat behind the wheel, fingers drumming against it. "Yeah," he murmured. "I know."

He started the engine, and the car pulled out into the night, headlights cutting through the shadows.

The air was still, cool with the lingering scent of pine as Anthony drove down the dark, narrow road leading out of the hockey arena.

The distant chirps of crickets played softly beneath the low hum of the car engine.

Matt leaned against the passenger window, eyes tracing the shadows beyond the glass.

He wasn’t really looking for anything in particular just letting his thoughts drift until something caught the corner of his eye.

A figure.

A person was walking along the roadside, backpack slung over one shoulder, head slightly bowed.

The dim streetlights barely lit her silhouette, but Matt squinted and sat up straighter.

"Wait..." Matt blinked and turned quickly to Anthony. "Yo, can you stop the car?"

Anthony didn’t answer. His eyes stayed fixed on the road, jaw clenched.

"Bro, did you hear me? I said stop the car."

Still nothing. The engine just kept humming, tires rolling steadily over the pavement.

Matt stared at his friend, eyebrows furrowed. "Anthony."

Only after a long stretch of road had passed did Anthony finally sigh, a sharp, barely-there breath, and slow the car to a stop.

Matt didn’t even wait for it to come to a full halt before he opened the door and stepped out.

A few feet ahead, the girl with the backpack continued walking, completely unaware of the car behind her.

Her headphones were still in, lost in whatever music filled her ears.

It wasn’t until Anthony turned on the high beams that she noticed something.

The lights cut across her frame, casting a bright glare. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes, squinting against the sudden intrusion.

Her pace faltered, but she kept walking, trying not to make eye contact, body tense like a deer caught in headlights.

Then she saw them and immediately her heart jumped.

Anthony and Matt.

Tracy’s entire posture changed. Her steps quickened as if her body was screaming to run but trying to keep her composure.

Her eyes darted everywhere but toward them in the car all she wanted to do was get pass them in the car.

Matt chuckled under his breath, increasing his tone just a bit so she could hear him.

"I was asking you to get in."

Tracy pulled one of her earpieces out, fingers fumbling slightly. "I-I, I didn't think you meant it seriously. I just..."

"Yeah, yeah," Matt waved it off with a teasing smile. "Just get in. We'll drop you off."

She hesitated, clinging to the strap of her bag like a lifeline. "No, it's fine. I can walk. I'm almost home anyway."

Matt tilted his head. "Come on, don’t be like that. It’d actually be kind of rude if you refused now. I’ll be offended."

Tracy looked at him, then at Anthony, whose face remained unreadable from the driver’s seat.

Finally, she gave a small nod, almost a surrender, and walked toward the car.

Quietly, she opened the back door and slipped inside.

The car was silent for a moment before Anthony pulled back onto the road.

Matt twisted around slightly in his seat to look at her. "So... what are you listening to?"

Tracy tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "Erm... Nothing much. Just music."

Matt grinned. "I figured."

Anthony adjusted the rearview mirror, eyes flicking up once, catching Tracy’s gaze for a fraction of a second before she looked away. He didn’t say a word.

He couldn’t.

Matt turned his attention forward again.

"So, Tracy... what do you like doing? Hobbies or something? Aside from walking alone in the dark like a mysterious book character."

That made Tracy smile a little. "I draw, Mostly."

Matt’s eyes widened. "Oh? Like the sketch earlier at the rink? That was impressive."

"I hadn’t started it yet," she said quietly.

"You just imagined it."

"Exactly," he said, grinning. "Sometimes the imagination paints better than the eyes."

She gave a soft laugh, still brief, and sat back in her seat. Her fingers twisted in her lap.

"Are you doing anything this weekend?" Matt asked suddenly.

Anthony’s hand jerked slightly on the steering wheel, and he coughed once, twice, too loudly for it to be casual.

Tracy blinked at Matt, then looked down. "I don’t think so. Why?"

Matt shrugged, glancing sideways at Anthony who was now sipping water like his throat had caught fire.

"Was thinking... maybe we could go somewhere. Like a hangout. Just... you and me."

Anthony gripped the wheel tighter. He didn’t even understand what he was feeling.

The tension in his chest?

The dull burn in his stomach? Maybe it was from playing too hard during the game. Or maybe not.

He looked at Tracy again through the mirror.

Her curls framed her face in soft waves, her eyes focused on the seat in front of her.

She looked... decent. Pretty, even.

But not the type he was supposed to like. Not for someone like him.

She didn’t have the sleek, model look most alphas went for.

Her thighs were too full, her figure not sharp enough. But still, he couldn’t look away.

Matt, oblivious to the storm inside his friend, smiled and waited.

Tracy finally replied, her voice low. "I guess... maybe. If I’m free."

"Cool. I’ll think of somewhere fun."

Silence settled in the car again, but not the peaceful kind. It buzzed with unsaid words, unanswered questions.

After a while, Tracy lifted her head slightly.

"Can you drop me at the playground in front?"

Matt turned. "You’re not going home?"

"No. I’d rather walk from there."

Matt looked confused for a second, ready to ask more, but Anthony caught his eye and shook his head lightly.

Don’t push it.

He got the message.

Anthony pulled over at the curb beside the small park. The faint squeak of the old swing sets echoed in the night.

Tracy unbuckled her seatbelt, head bowed.

She stepped out gently, like she didn’t want to make a sound.

She walked slowly to the front of the car where Matt rolled down the window.

"Thanks for the ride," she said, still not meeting Anthony’s eyes.

"Anytime," Matt replied.

She finally lifted her gaze but not to Matt.

Her eyes met Anthony’s directly.

And his heart stuttered.

While her cheeks warmed and she looked away quickly, biting her lip.

Matt noticed the blush and smiled, thinking it was meant for him.

His chest lifted slightly with silent hope.

As Tracy turned and walked into the dim glow of the playground, both boys watched her.

One... hoping for something real to begin.

The other... wishing it didn’t hurt so much.