HAYDEN

The rink was finally quiet. The scrape of skates and the sharp bark of Coach’s whistle had faded, replaced by the low hum of the arena lights and the faint chill that clung to the boards. Practice had run late, and my legs still felt like lead, but I wasn’t ready to leave yet.

There was always something about the silence after everyone else had gone, it made me feel like the ice belonged to me.

I could think clearly and articulate my thoughts in the quiet of the rink.

I leaned ...