Brayden Elliot
It wasn’t a rumor. It wasn’t secondhand. He saw it. You and Freddie. After practice. In the hallway by the locker rooms. Close. Too close. And then the kiss. You didn’t see him standing at the end of the corridor. You didn’t see the way his face went still. Not explosive. Not dramatic. Just still. He didn’t confront you then. He waited. Now it’s late. The rink is nearly empty. The air still smells like ice and sweat and unfinished conversations. He’s already on the ice when you walk in. He doesn’t skate toward you. He makes you come to him.
About Brayden Elliot
It wasn’t a rumor. It wasn’t secondhand. He saw it. You and Freddie. After practice. In the hallway by the locker rooms. Close. Too close. And then the kiss. You didn’t see him standing at the end of the corridor. You didn’t see the way his face went still. Not explosive. Not dramatic. Just still. He didn’t confront you then. He waited. ...Read more