Chapter 7
My focus has been shit. I haven’t heard from Carson all week, and I haven’t seen any of his team at the rink either.
I’m sure this is the reason for my many mistakes today, like the one I just made as I glide across the ice, propelling myself into a jump, I end up failing for what feels like the thousandth time.
My fists ball in frustration when I pull my body back up from the ground.
Dust from the ice covers my black pants.
“Hey Julian, how about a break? I think your body could use one, don’t push too hard.” My coach says.
I feel like I’m wasting his time.
It’s not every day a skater can get his time, and here I am pissing all over it because some stupid boy didn’t text me back after cuddling me all night.
I don’t know why Carson not responding to me is bothering me this much. But this is exactly why I never get involved with anyone, especially guys like him.
“I’m so sorry.” I huff out, irritation laced in my tone. Not with him, of course, but with myself.
“Julian. It’s ok, it happens. Let’s break for now.
” I nod, and we head off ice. The bench feels cold even against my clothed skin as I pull my bag over.
For some reason, I still need to check my phone and see if Carson has text me at all.
Though he’s read my messages, which makes me feel even worse.
I can’t help it, and I feel so stupid for doing it as much as I have been.
Still nothing.
I should’ve known better.
* * *
Coach Peters may have been right about sitting down for a bit.
I also will myself not to think about him after the break.
The sound of my skates along the ice relaxes me as I glide backwards, picking up speed to jump into my last lutz.
What we’re hoping will be the ending of my new short program.
My leg extends out perfectly on landing.
A sigh of relief leaves my lips. I skate over to my coach, where he waits with his ipad.
Finally, I landed something today.
“That lutz was beautiful, Julian.” He smiles, “Let’s see if we can do another one.”
“Alright.” I breathe.
I returned to the center of the ice and did my best throughout the rest of our session. It definitely could have been way better had I not been so distracted in the first place. But I can’t think about that right now when my body is singing with exhaustion.
I start off towards the doors when I see Carson and Sam laughing, heading towards me down the hall. An angry flush blooms hot across my skin. He looks so carefree.
Careless.
I’ve been having the worst fucking day. No week. Because I was so worried and embarrassed that he couldn’t even acknowledge me with a simple reply. After doing something I felt was so intimate.
I guess it doesn’t mean much to him.
But still, a reply would’ve been nice.
“Julian!” Carson grins.
I can feel his body tense as I brush past him, leaving him obviously taken aback, but for what I’m not sure. What did he expect from me? Why is he talking to me now? Does he just forget about me if we don’t see each other?
I didn’t forget about him.
What a fucking prick.
“Damn man, he looks pissed, what did you do?” I hear Sam mumble as I stalk closer to the exit.
“Julian!” Carson ignores him, calling out to me again instead. But I’m already pushing the doors to the rink exit open and stepping out into the chilled air.
Deep down, I think part of me wants him to follow me.
But the other part is glad he doesn’t.
* * *
I’ve been successfully ignoring Carson. The sun is hanging low as I walk through the rink parking lot. I waited till I was sure the hockey players would be well on their way by now so I could avoid seeing them altogether.
Blood rushes to my face with anger and embarrassment every time I think about how I risked my focus on him.
On a night where I could have been resting and getting ready for training, I went out and got shitfaced with a boy who didn’t even text me back the next day.
My knuckles redden as I grip the strap of my bag tighter.
I did something I would never usually do because I don’t know, I guess I got comfortable with Carson, and I just wanted to try to maybe be a little more open to things outside of skating because it seems to be working out fine for him.
Being with him and his team, I felt maybe I could have a life outside of my career and still perform at a level that would make my parents proud.
I’m still angry at him and myself.
Especially him, with the way he tries to engage with me every time we see each other before training. I would think he doesn’t even know why I’m upset with him. And that makes me even more upset. I shouldn’t be getting close to him anyway.
We share a rink. That’s all.
I huff as I walk into the facility, shrugging my bag further onto my shoulder. The ice is empty. I should feel relieved, but why do I feel almost disappointed by this?
I cut through the halls towards the locker room to store my things away. And there waiting is the man taking up way more space in my mind than I’d like to admit.
“Hey,” Carson starts, and I just stand there, staring at him, my eyes growing a little wide, “whatever I did, I’m so sorry ok?”
He moves toward my frozen body. Carson is holding a bouquet of peonies and a pink rabbit plushie; his hair is down.
I feel like he knows I like it.
“Can we just talk?” He pleads.
“What’s this for?” I stammer.
“I saw this bunny while I was at an away game, and I thought of you. I didn’t get to give it to you because you haven’t been really talking to me. And I noticed you like flowers too, so…” Carson starts again.
Of course, he would notice that. He seems to notice a lot of things about me, but he didn’t notice why I was so upset.
“You were thinking of me, but you never text me back. Do you often just cuddle with guys, sleep in their beds and piss off?” I deadpan, interrupting his speech.
“Piss off?” He grins.
“Really, Carson?” I roll my eyes.
“Alright, alright, but wait, that’s why you were mad?” He chuckles.
“Is that funny to you?” I ask, folding my arms.
“You’re so cute. I forgot that was your first time,” He coos, stepping even closer, holding the gifts out toward me. I look down at them and bite my bottom lip a bit.
I want to take them. This is my first time being given something like this from a man. I’m having way too many firsts with Carson, and I’m not sure how I feel about that yet. Warmth pools in my stomach as I gaze down at his gesture.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you!” I huff, snatching the gifts from him, nuzzling my nose into the flowers for a sniff. Carson smirks, watching me as I gently touch the petals of the flowers.
“But seriously, I really am sorry. It’s just the season gets pretty busy, especially with away games, that’s where I was. And after the games, we’re all pretty beat, so it may have slipped my mind to respond to your message. I’m sorry.” He explains.
I shift in place, feeling a bit embarrassed because that does make sense. I would know.
I don’t speak to barely anyone leading up to my skate in order to give me complete focus. Not that anyone but my family and coaches would be contacting me anyway, but still, even my parents know that I’ll get back to them afterwards.
It’s just that he never got back to me.
I don’t want to admit it, but…I was hurt by that.
I bite my lip and look down at the floor, but he follows my movement, trying to look into my eyes for some reason.
My body feels like it’s melting under his gaze.
“I don’t want you to feel like I don’t care about you or don’t value your time.
And I was truly grateful for you coming out with me that night.
I know it’s not something you would usually do.
I know how much your training time means to you.
I promise I’ll be a better friend and check in from here on out.
” He puts his hand on his heart and smiles at me.
“Friend? Who said we’re friends?” I mutter, looking away.
I hate how right now he knows exactly how I feel without me having to deeply explain myself.
I was hoping that he didn’t understand how big a deal it was for me to divert from my usual routine.
The fact that I felt like I risked something for him, and I know that might sound so dramatic, but that’s how I feel.
And it’s scaring me that he just seems to understand that maybe I don’t know how to tell him yet. It’s always mostly been me and my own thoughts, and now I feel like he’s in them.
“Come on, admit we’re at least friends now.” I roll my eyes, and I hope the bouquet is hiding my stupid blush. I just can’t resist giving in to him for whatever reason.
It almost makes me sick.
I should stop myself where am I before I even figure it out, because I’m sure Carson is just trying to be a good friend with the things he’s saying and doing.
“How about this, let me treat you to dinner.” He smirks.
“Carson, I’m not sure…” I mutter.
“Let me make it up to you, Julian, please.”
Oh, don’t look at me like that.
I feel bad; his eyes are so pleading, and I know he genuinely means everything he’s saying to me. But dinner? I’ve once again never been to dinner with a guy before, not even with a girl when I thought I was straight. But he looks like a puppy right now, and who kicks a puppy when they’re down?
I just have to get this in my head that we’re just friends and this is just a friend date. He doesn’t mean anything else by it.
“Ok,” I say, gripping the flowers and plushie a bit tight. I need something to ground me right now with the way he’s looking at me as if he just won the lottery.
“How does this weekend sound?”
“Sounds good,” I mumble.
“Alright. Good. Let’s head out then.” He ruffles my hair, and I swat his hand away, my face burning.
“I’m not getting in the car with you, idiot. I just got here.”
“I’m kidding. I’m gonna wait up for you.”
“It’s fine, Carson, you don’t have to.”
“I want to, Julian. Please.” He says, grabbing the gifts back from me, “Besides, I like watching you skate.” He says quietly and starts for the hallway.
“Stalker,” I say under my breath as if I’m not the one who was shamelessly checking his socials every night, even when he wasn’t texting me.
* * *
Carson really does come and sit in the stands to watch me skate.
I thought he’d maybe go home for a bit and come back to pick me up later.
But he does seem to be a man of his word, so I’m learning.
I can feel him watching me intently. He’s not even checked his phone a single time the entire three hours I’ve been skating.
I feel like a peacock trying to show off for him. And I’m definitely skating the best I have since coming here. Not that I’ve been skating badly the entire time, it’s just in this session I’m excelling.
And he says I’m his lucky charm, maybe he’s mine.
Carson gives me a thumbs up and nods cutely when I make all my jumps. I give him a smile in return. As I’m gliding on the ice, I let out a laugh cause he really does look so happy to watch me.
We’re getting closer to getting a routine down for the World Championships, and it’s been quite a difficult transition for me.
Probably the most difficult in my career so far.
But I need something that will impress the judges, maybe even shock them a bit.
So it was time we switch it up. They’ve always expected classical from me, and I wanted to see if I could pull off a different style.
Maybe something more showy.
I take in a deep breath before propelling into my last jump of the night. My skates clip the ice when I land beautifully. The sound of my coach clapping rings through the rink.
“Good job, Julian.”
“Thank you.” I smile, pushing my hair out of my eyes.
“We’re making good progress on your short program. Just need a little cleaning here and there. But I think you’ll be set for gold if you keep this up.” He chuckles.
“Thank you. I hope I can make you proud.” I say, biting my lip.
“I don’t doubt you will.” Coach smiles, “Alright, let’s wrap for the night. Get some rest!” He says, patting me on the back.
We head off the ice together before he gives me a nod and makes his way toward the offices. Soon we’ll start focusing on my free skate, which will prove a bit more challenging, so I know he’s been staying back late some nights.
Carson comes down from the stands, “You were incredible down there…beautiful.” He smiles, his eyes softening a bit.
“Thanks, Carson,” I mumble, my ears burning. I need something to distract me, so I sit down to take my skates off.
“You’re going to be amazing at worlds. I can’t wait to watch you.”
“You want to?” I ask as I begin unlacing my shoes.
“Of course I do.” He says, kneeling in front of me, he starts to untie my skates the rest of the way.
“Carson, it’s fine, I can do it…”
Our fingers brush when I try to go back to doing it myself. And god, his hands feel so warm when he grasps mine and moves them out of his way.
“Please?” He says, his tone feathery.
All I can do is nod in shock and let him continue to undo my skates for me. I feel like I’m floating, watching him, like I’m having an out-of-body experience. Is that what they call it? Whatever it is, I don’t know if I want it to stop. I don’t even know if I could stop it.
Carson puts my slippers down in front of me.
The ones I like wearing around the rink after my feet have been in skates for all those hours.
I slip them in, and he smiles up at me. My breath catches in my throat when Carson pulls me up toward him, his grip firm, the heat from his touch feels like it’s spreading up my entire arm.
He’s so strong.
“Good?” Carson asks.
I answer with another nod.
“Great, let’s head to the car. I packed your things away earlier.” He beams, guiding me toward the exit.
“Thanks…Carson.” I mutter.
“Yeah, I got you.”