4. Logan
FOUR
LOGAN
“I fucking hate you.”
It’s the third time Savannah has said that to me in the twenty seconds she’s been submerged in the ice bath.
Max chuckles beside me, wrapped in his towel.
He went first in an attempt to show Savannah that it wouldn’t be too bad.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t very convincing with all the wincing and deep breathing he did while in there.
“Yeah, I’ve gathered that,” I say flatly, keeping my eyes on the timer. “Alright. Times up.”
She hops up so quickly that water spills out of the portable ice bath tub that I brought from home.
The water splashing everywhere startles me, and I look up just in time to see Savannah’s nipples staring right at me through her bathing suit. I quickly look away because the last thing I need is for her to claim I’m being inappropriate. That’ll get me thrown out of here real fast.
Max tosses her a towel, and she quickly wraps herself up in it.
“I think it’s your turn, Coach,” she snaps through chattering teeth.
I hate the way she says “Coach” like she’s mocking me.
Like I’m not good enough to be a coach. Hell, maybe I’m not.
But I’m one determined motherfucker, and now my goal is to prove her wrong.
I’ve always worked better with goals, whether it be a competition, weight training, or even test scores when I was in school.
My new goal is to get Savannah DuPont to the Olympics.
She can hate me all she wants, but I’m seeing this through.
“I’m not sure that’s necessary, Savannah.”
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t skate anymore. No reason for my muscles to recover.” I busy myself with draining the tub, but I can feel her watching me, which sets me on edge. I know what her next question is going to be without her even having to ask it. It’s what everyone wants to know.
“And why aren’t you skating anymore?” she asks.
“Because I retired.”
“Obviously, but why did you retire? You were at the top of your game. You easily had another Olympic season in you.”
“Didn’t realize you followed my career so closely.”
Max laughs, but Savannah doesn’t think it’s funny.
I just want this conversation to be over.
Everyone wants to know why I retired. It was a huge surprise when I announced it at the end of last season.
The truth is, I’d been thinking about it for a while, and when my mom received some bad news about her health, I knew it was time for me to step back.
“Shut up. It’s not like anyone could ignore you. It was always Logan this and Logan that.”
“Well, maybe I retired to give everyone else a chance, then.”
She huffs. “Yeah, I doubt that. You don’t seem like that kind of guy.”
“And what kind of guy is that exactly?”
She doesn’t hesitate at all. “One who gives a shit about other people.”
Now, I’ve never been super friendly, but it wasn’t because I wasn’t nice or thought I was better than everyone else.
I’ve been skating since I could walk. I never went to a true school with other kids my age.
I was homeschooled, and the only kids I was around were my competition at the rink.
Most of them were nice to my face but had no problem talking shit behind my back.
It was almost impossible to make friends, so I stopped trying. I kept to myself. That led to people thinking I was an asshole. I just couldn’t win. It seems that’s still the case now, even as an adult.
“Gee, thanks,” I answer.
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure that I do, but it doesn’t matter.
We’re done for the day. You guys can go.
” I keep my tone calm and collected because I don’t want her to know that her words affected me.
I’m not even sure why they did. I shouldn’t care what she thinks of me, especially because I know she actively hates me.
I’m never going to win her over. All I can do is hope that she trusts me enough to let me help her succeed.
“Logan, I?—”
I cut her off. I don’t want to hear whatever she plans on saying next. “Practice is over.”
“Fine,” she grumbles as she walks back inside the rink with her towel wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
Max follows her while I finish cleaning up the area.
It’s been a long day between practices, watching their training, and meeting with one of the choreographers to start running through ideas for this season’s program. I’m ready to go home.
Savannah and Max are gone by the time I head back to the rink, grab my bag, and head home.
It’s a short drive from the rink to my aunt Anya’s house, where my mom and I are living now.
My aunt was more than willing to give us space in her house.
Since she works from home, she’d be around if Mom needed anything while I was working.
It was a big reason why my mom wanted to move to Colorado.
The other reason is the University of Colorado’s cancer treatment facility.
When Mom found out her cancer was back, her doctor suggested this place. I wasn’t going to let her go through it all alone again, so I dropped everything, literally, and we moved to Colorado.
Anya’s house is nothing huge, but it has plenty of space for the three of us.
She’s divorced, and her children are grown and living on their own.
I think she likes having us in the house with her.
She makes big dinners every night and makes sure we always have clean sheets and towels.
She’s gone above and beyond, and I doubt I’d ever be able to repay her.
Mom was upstairs with Anya, while I got the finished basement, even though I told her I’d be fine in a guest room.
She insisted I have my own space, and I didn’t want to argue.
Especially since I know it makes my mom feel better that I basically have a little apartment.
No matter how many times I tell her she’s wrong, she blames herself for my retirement.
It’s only been a few months since I officially made the decision, but I don’t regret it. Mom has stood by me through everything, and now it’s my turn to return the favor.
“Hi, son.” Mom greets me as soon as I walk in the door. I drop my bag by the door and walk toward her, where she’s sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen watching my aunt cook dinner.
“Hey, Mom. Hey, Anya.” I give my mom a hug and then sit down next to her.
“How was it today?” she asks. After my first day with Savannah and Max, I came home and told her about Savannah blaming me for her ruined Olympic chance.
We watched the video together and both agreed that it was my fault.
Sure, Savannah also wasn’t paying attention, but I led Cassandra way too close to them, and if Savannah hadn’t done what she did, we all would’ve been hurt.
“It was… fine.”
She cringes. “She still hasn’t warmed up to you?”
I chuckle. “I’m fairly certain there will be no warming up. I feel good about the work and what I’m planning for them, but it’s hard when she gives me death glares every five seconds.”
Mom rubs my back. “Did you try to talk to her? Tell her what happened?”
I shake my head. “She won’t want to hear it.”
I made the decision not to tell anyone what was going on in my personal life after Mom’s first diagnosis.
She was an Olympic ice dancer, too, before she got pregnant with me and decided to stop.
She doesn’t want the pity for being sick, and I certainly don’t want to be the one who announced it to the world.
She’s told me before that she’s not trying to keep it a secret and understands if I want to tell people, but I just… don’t. It feels too personal.
Mom sighs. “Well, I still think you should explain what happened. But if you insist on being stubborn, you’re going to have to work extra hard to gain their trust.”
“I know. I will. It’s just going to take time.”
“If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
I smile at her. “Thanks, Mom.”
“So, have you gotten on the ice again yet?”
I shake my head. “No, not yet.”
I wanted to. Thought about it. It feels too soon for some reason. I loved skating. Still do. But retiring shut something down inside me. It feels like I don’t deserve to skate or something.
“The longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be,” she reminds me.
“Says the woman who hasn’t skated in years.”
She laughs, knowing I’ve got her there. “Maybe I need to get back out there, too. I miss it.”
Anya sets two plates down in front of us. “You two are something else. Just go skate. Isn’t it meant to be fun?”
Mom laughs. “You don’t understand, Anya. Being on the ice feels like magic, and the ice decides who is worthy. When you haven’t visited it in a while, well…”
Anya rolls her eyes. She skated a little when she was younger but never took it to a professional level like Mom and I did.
She’s always said she doesn’t want to do anything that doesn’t give her joy.
I guess skating stopped giving her joy. And her ex-husband also stopped giving her joy, which is why she’s divorced.
“Oh, not the magic nonsense again,” Anya says, taking a seat next to Mom with her own plate.
“Oh, Anya. You wouldn’t understand,” Mom says again.
She’s in good spirits today, at least. I was worried the most recent diagnosis would take the spark right out of her, but she seems hopeful.
Happy even. I hope she can get through this and come out stronger in the end, but it’s hard to be too hopeful the second time around.
After dinner, I help with the dishes before taking a shower.
While I lay in bed, I think about how the day went. I think about the lifts Max and Savannah worked on, their spins, and the way Max’s hand was placed on Savannah’s body while they skated.
I don’t let myself think about how much I miss doing that. I try to ignore the urge to challenge myself again. I push down the feeling that I wish it were me in Max’s place, because then maybe Savannah wouldn’t look at me with such hatred.
Those things are not for me to occupy my mind with. I’ve got bigger and more important things than myself to think about now.
I pull up a text I got earlier from my old coach.
The message was simple, just asking how I was doing, but for some reason, I couldn’t answer right away.
I text her back and tell her I’m good and getting settled in the new town with the new job.
She responds almost immediately, telling me to let her know if I need anything.
I worked with her for years. I was so worried that she would be disappointed when I announced my retirement. Thankfully, she was nothing but supportive.
My former partner, on the other hand, was pissed and rightfully so. I completely blindsided her. We had worked so well together and were close, but not as close as she wanted to be.
My thoughts drift back to Max and Savannah, and I wonder if the two of them are closer than simply being partners. I’ve seen the way he touches her, holds her hand, kisses her forehead. It would make sense if they were together.
What doesn’t make sense is why it bothers me so much thinking about the two of them together. That’s something I don’t bother unpacking before I finally fall asleep.