Lies On The Ice

Chapter 2

Alex

"Dale! Can I borrow your shampoo? They used up all the shampoo in the shower room," Jake’s voice rings out from the outside of the locker room door.

The moment Dale turns his head to answer his friend, I move faster than I ever thought possible. I pull my shirt down and smooth it over my chest, my hands trembling slightly. My heart hammers against my ribs. I feel the sudden urge to climb out the small window or vanish into the floorboards. The fear is sharp and cold in my veins.

Did he see anything? Did he catch a glimpse of the binder hiding my breast? Does he know now I am a girl?

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. I wait in silence as Dale finishes speaking to Jake. My mind races with silent prayers. I beg fate that he will keep what he might have seen to himself. I dread the thought of him reporting anything strange to our head coach.

"Why are you changing in here? Aren't you going to take a shower?" Dale asks as he finally walks toward me. His eyes search my face.

I study his expression closely, looking for any sign of suspicion or disgust. But his gaze is calm, and his tone is normal. It seems he did not notice the tight binder pressing against my chest. A heavy weight lifts from my shoulders. I can breathe again. My secret is still safe.

"I... I will just shower at home," I reply, forcing a casual smile onto my face. "I'll go ahead now."

I grab my bag quickly, eager to escape the tense atmosphere. I stride toward the door, but just as my hand reaches the handle, Dale speaks again.

"Let's go together."

I freeze in place. My mouth falls open slightly in shock. I stare at him, unable to believe my ears. He actually wants to walk out of the school with me? "Let's go," he repeats gently.

I can only nod. Words seem to have left me. I follow him out of the locker room, stepping in sync with his footsteps.

We walk side by side through the hallways and out into the open air. Silence hangs between us, but it is not awkward. It feels peaceful. Even though he does not say a word, a warm glow fills my chest. Just being near him, sharing this quiet moment is enough to make my day. It feels like a small victory, a good start to building the connection I long for.

I cannot help the small, happy laugh that bubbles up in my throat as I keep stealing glances at his profile, memorizing every line of his face. I am so focused on watching him that I fail to notice the danger coming my way.

Suddenly, a ball comes flying straight toward me. I barely have time to react. But before it can hit me, Dale’s arm wraps firmly around my shoulders, pulling me hard against his side.

I stare up at him, completely dazed. My heart beats wildly, thumping like a loud drum in my ears. It happens every time he touches me. Why does his presence affect me this deeply? Is this more than just admiration for a childhood friend? Am I actually falling in love with him?

"I'm sorry, Alex." A student runs over, breathless and apologetic.

"Be more careful next time," Dale says to the boy, his voice cold and commanding. He picks up the ball and tosses it back to the player before turning his attention back to me. "Are you okay?" he asks, his tone softening with genuine concern.

I shake my head and smile up at him. "I'm okay." There is nothing funny about the situation, yet I cannot stop grinning. My heart feels so full it might burst.

He was worried about me. He protected me without hesitation. That realization brings me more joy than I can describe.

I flinch slightly when Dale reaches out and flicks my forehead gently with his finger. "You almost got hit by a ball, and you are still smiling?"

Instead of answering, my smile grows wider. I feel a shift between us. He seems more relaxed and comfortable around me after we won the game. It feels like we are slowly rebuilding the easy friendship we shared years ago. I want him to feel safe with me, just as he did when we were kids.

But that warm feeling vanishes instantly when I lift my eyes and look toward the school gate. Standing there, waiting patiently, is Aunt Emily, Dale’s mother.

My blood runs cold. I stop walking abruptly and grip the strap of my bag tight until my knuckles turn white.

"I'll go ahead, Dale. See you on Monday," I say quickly, offering a strained smile. Before he can object or ask any questions, I turn away and hurry toward the bus stop.

I am not ready to face his mom. I am terrified that if she looks into my eyes, she will see right through my disguise and recognize the daughter of her enemy.

I glance back once before I turn the corner. Dale is still standing exactly where I left him, watching me go. Our eyes meet for a fleeting second. I give him a small wave, my heart aching to stay, but I force myself to keep moving.

I board the bus quickly and ride in silence. I get off after a short ride and walk the rest of the way home.

The moment I step inside our living room, a sharp, sour smell hits me. The heavy stench of stale alcohol fills the air. I find my mother sitting alone on the sofa, a glass in her hand, her eyes empty and distant.

My mother has been like this ever since my father was imprisoned on a murder charge. She let my father’s company crumble into ruin, leading to bankruptcy and debts. If we did not own five small apartment units that provide us with rent money, we would likely be starving or living on the streets by now.

"You're here, Alex," Mom mumbles when she notices me.

"You're drinking again, Mom. Can you please try to pull yourself together? Even just for me?" I walk over to her, gently take the glass from her hand, and move it out of her reach.

"This is all Emily’s fault, Alex," she spits out, anger burning in her eyes. "If she hadn’t framed your father and sent him to prison, I would never have become like this."

The memory plays in my mind like a broken record. Aunt Emily accused my father of pushing her husband, Uncle Shawn, off a high terrace of their house. That fall killed him instantly. I was inside Dale’s house that day, so I did not see the incident happen. But Dale was outside. He saw his own father fall right in front of his eyes. It scarred him deeply. Right after the funeral, Aunt Emily moved away with Dale, cutting all ties with us.

Dad always insisted he was innocent. He and Uncle Shawn had argued, yes, but he swore he never hurt him. They were best friends from childhood, they were inseparable. It makes no sense that he would kill the man he loved like a brother, especially over an investment disagreement. But Aunt Emily used her influence and connections. Without solid proof in Dad’s favor, she managed to lock him away. She really believed that Dad killed her husband.

"Mom, it has been seven years. Why are we still stuck in this pain?" I ask softly, tears pricking my eyes. "Dad is not everything you have. I am still here. I am your daughter. I need you to take care of me. I need a mother."

Mom breaks down crying. She pulls me into a tight hug, clinging to me as if I am her lifeline. After a long moment, she pulls back and looks me in the eye. Her expression becomes serious and hard.

"I heard from a friend that you and Dale are attending the same school," she says. Her voice turns cold as she speaks his name. "Is that why you transferred to that school? Did you go there to find Emily’s son?"

"Of course not, Mom. I barely even see Dale at school," I lie, keeping my face calm.

"Good. It is better that way," she says, the tension leaving her face slightly. "I do not want to know that you are talking to him or getting close to him, Alex. Do you understand me?"

"Y-Yes, Mom," I answer weakly, looking down at my hands.

Fear twists in my stomach like a cold snake. I'm so scared that Mom would find out the truth that Dale is not just my schoolmate, but he is also my classmate and skates beside me as my teammate on the hockey team.