"For once, neither of us was strong."
The confrontation had drained them both. Silver sat on the wooden bench beside the boards, working her skates off with mechanical precision. Each pull of the laces felt like admitting defeat. Across from her, Eli had given up pretending he needed to do PT exercises. He sat on the rubber matting, back against the wall, his stick bag forgotten beside him.
The rink had that particular morning emptiness, when the only sounds were the hum of the cooling system and the distant echo of someone running the coffee machine in the concession area. Seven AM classes would start soon, but neither of them moved.
"Your hands are shaking," Eli observed quietly.
Silver looked down. He was right. She pressed her palms flat against her thighs, willing them still.
"Just cold."
"Sure."
But there was no judgment in his voice. Just understanding.
