Chapter 9 Hannah
NINE
HANNAH
Grant
Did Coach text you yet?
Me
He did.
Grant
Thank god. He created a group chat with all of us and seemed pretty panicked about finding someone to help his daughter.
Glad he finally reached out. Do you think you’re going to take the coaching gig?
Me
TBD. I don’t know shit about children and even less about coaching them. Remember that summer I was a camp counselor and the girls in my cabin bullied me? Traumatizing.
Grant
Weren’t they 8? And spoiled brats?
Me
Traumatizing!
Grant
No way Coach’s kid is like that. Dude probably runs a tight ship haha.
Saw your post about withdrawing from Skate America.
Me
Did you see some of the comments asking if I was pregnant and that’s why I was dropping out? Or if I failed a drug test?
Grant
Oof. Sorry, Han. People suck. Everyone wants to have an opinion, but not everyone with a platform deserves a microphone.
Want to get meet up this week so you can tell me about your decision? I’m in town until Thursday, then it’s off to Canada, eh!!!!
Me
Sounds great, G.
Grant
I’m here for you, sis.
Me
I know you are, and I appreciate you.
I have to give Brody credit for being so ballsy.
Sixteen months without any communication—just like he wanted—and he pops up out of the blue, asking if I’ll coach his daughter. Grant gave me a heads up the text was coming, but it still caught me completely off guard.
It’s been forty-eight hours since his bombardment of messages—three of them, which is hysterical to me—and I haven’t answered him. It’s kind of fun picturing him walking around his living room and wondering if he’ll ever get a response.
“Sorry I’m late.” Grant sits across from me at the tiny table I scored when I got to the bar ten minutes ago.
He pulls the bill of his hat low on his head, covering his shaggy brown hair that’s in desperate need of a cut.
“I was playing video games with the guys. Kicked Liam’s ass to high heaven in Halo. ”
“It’s cute how codependent you all are. Can’t even spend a night apart.” I squint at the feeble attempt of facial hair lining his cheeks and below his nose, the start of a hideous mustache that makes me cringe. “What the hell is on your face? It looks like an inchworm.”
“Whoa. That’s uncalled for, Han. I’m getting ready for when the team does Movember. We don’t shave in November so we can raise awareness for men’s mental health, prostate cancer, and testicular cancer.”
“God.” I groan. “Now I feel like a bitch for making fun of you.”
“You could never be a bitch.” He flashes me a grin and flags down a server, asking for a seltzer water with lime while I put in an order for a white wine. “Good to see you, sis. What’s new in your life?”
“Besides pulling out of one of the biggest competitions of the year, getting trolled on social media, reading subreddits about myself that aren’t even close to right and contemplating what the hell I’m going to do with my future? I’m great.”
“Fuck. That’s heavy. Cheers.” He knocks his glass with mine when our drinks arrive. “You want to talk about any of that? You know I’ll listen.”
“I do know that, but I’ve given my therapist an earful these past two weeks. I’m fine. I promise. I’ve been…” I cross my legs, taking a beat to finish my answer. “I think I’m going to tell Bro—Coach Saunders that I want to work with his daughter.”
“Yeah?” Grant smiles my way. “That’s great news, Han.”
“I know I have zero coaching experience, but I’m wondering if I approach skating from a different perspective, I might be able to fall in love with it again.
I’m sure there’s some psychological reasoning behind my recent dislike of the sport.
Why I’m anxious every time I get on the ice, and coaching could be rewarding in a different way. ”
“That’s some philosophical shit right there. I know I’m clueless about figure skating—”
“That’s not true. Mom still has that picture of you wearing that full-body costume of mine you put on when you were younger.”
“If that ever gets published anywhere, I’m burning the city down.”
“But you were so cute in all those sequins.” I laugh. “What do you know about Coach Saunders’ daughter?”
“Olivia? She’s been to a few practices and I’ve seen her at games. More outgoing than Coach, but so is a wall.”
Except when he’s in bed. Then he won’t shut up.
I sip on my wine to keep myself from blurting out the intimate thought. “How old is she?”
“Uh. Fourteen? Thirteen? Old enough to be in high school. Young enough to not have a car.”
“Hm.”
“Hey.” He gives my shin a gentle kick under the table. “You’re contemplative over there.”
“I know how much skating meant to me when I was her age, and it’s brought me so many wonderful things in life—current athletic slump notwithstanding.
” I set my glass down and sigh. “I’m going to have to step away from the sport one of these days.
What good has my career been if I’m not inspiring the next generation? ”
“You want to talk about inspiring? You’re already doing that, Han. When I was at your last competition, girls everywhere had ribbons in their hair like you wear. You don’t need gold medals to prove your worth.”
“Will people still respect me if I walk away? It’s not like I’m injured. I’m just unhappy.”
“Fuck what other people think. You want to retire? You can retire. You want to coach? You can coach. You want to go to beginner Learn to Skate classes and relearn basic moves? You can do that too. People love to talk shit, but until they know the burden you’re carrying, they shouldn’t be allowed to have an opinion.
You don’t need a reason to walk away. Your happiness is enough. ”
“Thanks, G.” I smile and reach across the table to knock the brim of his hat. “And beginner Learn to Skate classes? What the hell would I do there?”
“If that’s where you first fell in love with skating, maybe it’s where you could fall in love with it again.”
“That’s not a bad idea. Something to consider in my temporary hiatus.”
“How long of a break are you going to take?”
“Not sure yet. I told my coach I needed a couple of months off to find my focus. She agreed, but only because I wasn’t setting a good example for the younger skaters.” I snort. “And now I’m going to try and coach one? I’m in over my head.”
“No way. You’re going to do this, Hannah, and you’re going to do it well. Besides. Coach might be the king of hockey, but I bet he knows jack shit about figure skating. He’ll probably say all of your moves are perfect tens, even when you mess up.”
“Probably.” I smile. Interacting with Brody again so I can give his daughter skating lessons? There’s a plot twist I never saw coming. “Guess we’ll find out.”
Grant offers to drive me home, but I decide to walk. The late autumn air is nice, even when a breeze ripples past and I pull my jacket tighter around my body. At a red light, I fish my phone out of my pocket.
I find Brody’s messages buried under a dozen other notifications have come through the last two days and take a deep breath. I tap his number, reading through what he sent me one more time.
Unknown number
Hey. Grant gave me your number. I’m not sure if he mentioned it, but my daughter, Olivia, needs a figure skating coach. Are you interested? I’ll pay.
It’s Brody. Brody Saunders. The DC Stars coach.
Sorry. Let me try this one more time. Hi, Hannah. It’s Brody. Grant gave me your number, and I hope it’s okay I’m reaching out to you. My daughter needs a figure skating coach, and you come highly recommended. Let me know if that’s something you’d like to discuss further. I hope you’re doing well.
Brody Saunders. The DC Stars coach.
As if I don’t remember every intimate details about him—his fingers pushing inside me. The hot, wet press of his mouth on my neck and how hard he was. The way we almost fucked and his threat of putting me over his knee.
We were so close.
Inches.
That’s all that separated us.
Heat inundates my body. I fan my face, begging my brain to not latch on to the rough husk of his voice when he asked if I could feel him.
It’s the hardest task of my life.
I swipe away from his message and pull up the internet instead, typing in his name and adding + daughter to the end of the search. Google loads, and I can’t find photos of her anywhere.
I’m not surprised. I bet he keeps her out of the public eye to protect their privacy.
He’s not the most famous athlete in the world, but he’s still someone people know.
And in a city obsessed with hockey, I’m sure trying to keep your kids safe without leaving a digital footprint is harder than it sounds.
I hope she’s never had people offer to coach her for selfish reasons: they want access to her dad. A firsthand glimpse into a life of someone they could take to publications and sell for an exuberant amount of money. General creepiness.
Brody lit up when he talked about his daughter. His whole face changed, and it’s obvious she’s the best part of his life. Watching her end up with a coach who only cares about themselves and boosting their resume without having Olivia’s best interests at heart makes my chest hurt.
It happened to me years ago. One of my first coaches saw my potential.
She saw Olympics and Championships and how my success could benefit her, so she pushed me to my limits then well past. My body ached.
I was reprimanded in front of the other skaters at my rink when I didn’t place as high as she wanted.
My spirit was crushed. I thought that was how intense every coach was… until I found the right one.
I want the same experience for Olivia.
Not for Brody’s sake, but in honor of the little girl I used to be who had big dreams and a big heart.
I can get past whatever brief relationship Brody and I had in favor of a young skater with the world out in front of her. I pull up his messages again, my thumbs typing out an answer I’ve already decided on.
Me
Thanks for your offer. Full disclosure, I don’t have any coaching experience, which is important for younger figure skaters so they’ll be trained correctly. Totally understand if you want to go a different route after learning that.
I push open the door to my apartment building, and his response comes seconds later. It’s like he’s been waiting for me to message him, and I don’t know why that makes my heart skip a beat.
Unknown number
My daughter told me how good you are. I watched videos of you, and she’s right. You’re terrific. As someone who was also thrust into a coaching role somewhat unexpectedly, trust me when I say you learn as you go.
Me
Okay, yeah. I’d be open to talking more about a potential partnership.
Unknown number
Are you free tomorrow? Guys have an off day.
I unlock my door and slip inside, kicking off my shoes. I’m free for the foreseeable future thanks to my self-imposed break to do some soul searching, but I take a beat before answering so he doesn’t think I’m too eager. Dropping onto the couch, I drum my fingers against the side of my phone.
Me
Tomorrow should work. Where’s a place that’s convenient for you?
Unknown number
The arena, if you’re okay with it. I have meetings all morning.
Me
Sure. Noon?
Unknown number
I’ll be here. Check in at the security window and they’ll get you a visitor’s pass. Text me if you have any issues.
Me
Sounds good.
I rub a hand over my chest. Nerves sit at the base of my spine, but it’s a different feeling from what I’ve been grappling with as of late. Is this that hope I felt? The excitement I’ve been looking for? My way to jumpstart my passion for skating again?
God, I hope so.
My phone buzzes one more time. I don’t look at it until later, after I shower and climb into bed for the night. When I do, the message I read makes my belly swoop low. It makes those nerves melt to something secretive I’ve tried to forget.
Unknown number
Looking forward to seeing you.