Chapter 21
“And the New Jersey Scorpions see another upset as they lose another game this season to the Montreal Kings.” The TV drones on, illuminating my otherwise dark living room.
I’ve been keeping up with Carson’s games even more so now that we’re not really talking.
But I cringe at hearing that they’ve lost again; his team has been having a tough time for the last two games, and I hope he’s ok.
I could text him, but I don’t know what to say, especially seeing as I’m still upset.
I lie across the couch onto my side and curl up.
I feel like I’m stuck between my raging emotions and wanting to see him again.
Or maybe I just want him to reach out to me first.
I have a practice session today, and it’s the first time in a while, I don’t feel up to going.
But that’s obviously not an option.
I grab my phone from the kitchen counter, suddenly getting the stupid urge to check Carson’s page again, but it’s not his page I decide to scroll through.
It’s Avery’s.
My jaw clenches. I know this is so silly, and I promise myself I’ll never do it again. I scroll all the way to the bottom and find exactly what I didn’t want to see; it’s a photo of him and Carson from their university days, looking unquestionably very close.
Avery is smiling at the camera while Carson is giving him a kiss on the cheek. The caption reads: the sweetest boy.
I feel like I’m going to be sick. I hate myself for even looking. I throw my phone into the bag angrily, pulling my jacket on.
* * *
The anger and bitterness helped keep me warm on my walk over to the rink. Opening the door, I head straight to the lockers, not wanting to even glance at Carson and his team finishing up their practice session. I feel his eyes follow me as I walk past the boards.
Kane is in the locker room when I come in to set my bag down on the bench. He looks over his shoulder at me, “Hey.”
“Uh, hello. Sorry, are you using this room?” I ask.
“Nah, you’re good. I was just leaving.”
“Ah, ok,” I say, biting my lip.
“Is everything ok? With you and Young?” He asks. I snap my head towards him. Has Carson been talking about us?
“Oh, um, yeah. Why?”
“Nothing. You seem sad.” He shrugs.
“Ah, I’m ok. Is..Is he ok?” I mutter.
“Dunno, we don’t talk much.” Kane chuckles.
“That’s surprising.” I smile.
“You think so?” For the first time that I’ve seen, a smile spreads wide across Kane’s face. The skin on my neck heats.
“Oh…Well, cause you guys play…” I mumble. Footsteps from behind distract me from continuing, “Julian…” Carson says. I turn at his voice to see that he’s staring, no. He’s glaring at Kane.
Is he jealous? Kane is very handsome, but there’s no reason for it. I wish I could tell him how I tossed and turned all night thinking about him, missing him. But, I’m still pissed.
“Carson…” I say softly.
“Well, I’ll get going. See you.” Kane says before stepping into the hall, leaving us alone. It’s so quiet between us, I can hear my heart beating. I can almost hear his.
“Julian,” Carson repeats my name so gently, as if I’ll break.
I feel like I might.
“Carson…”
“It’s cold today.” He says.
“Yeah?”
“Can I…Give you a ride home?” He says, biting his lip.
“I’m ok. I can walk.” I deadpan.
“Julian…I..” He stammers, his eyes soften.
I need to get away.
“I need to get to practice, Carson,” I say.
Grabbing my water bottle, I walk out of the room and toward a different room to warm up, hoping to god he doesn’t follow me. I can’t take any more of him. I feel myself wanting to give in, but I also still feel like I’m not ready to forgive him or talk to him about our fight.
Maybe that’s because I don’t know what I should be doing with all these feelings.
I don’t want to make it worse by not knowing how to handle it.
* * *
The following training sessions are extremely tough. I feel like I’m fighting an uphill battle. I’ve never made so many mistakes consecutively for this many sessions before, but I just can’t stop my mind from racing. Thoughts of Carson, thoughts of Avery, thoughts of Carson with Avery.
Huffing across the ice, I lean into a messy layback before transitioning into my next axel. My coach and choreographer are watching from the benches as I perform what is probably one of my worst versions of our new free skate. I propel my body into the air, my heart drumming against my chest.
Everything about this is all wrong.
I know this landing is going to be ugly.
I crash into the ice, landing on my wrist. The pain rips through me so violently, my vision blurs.
They both scramble over to me, “Julian! Are you ok!?” Coach Peters crouches down, gently touching my throbbing wrist. I wince. It’s not the worst pain I’ve ever felt; you’re very lucky if you never have an accident as an athlete, so this isn’t my first. But it’s definitely up there.
“Come on, we need to get you checked out.” He says, his brows pinched together.
“I’m so sorry.” I bite my bottom lip. I can’t believe this is happening; getting injured so close to the competition. When it could have all been avoided. But I’ve been recklessly distracted. I try to hold in my burning tears.
“No, cut it out. You have nothing to be sorry about. Let’s go.”
I nod.
* * *
I breathe in deeply, tilting my head back under the fluorescent lights of the doctor’s office.
The assessment of my injury went by fairly quickly, and it’s definitely as bad as it looks.
She explained that it’s only a sprain, though acute, so it’ll be some time before it’s healed, and I should let it rest. That’s the last thing I want to hear at this point in my training.
I’ve decided these last few weeks have been the worst of my life.
I’m fighting with my not-boyfriend, I can’t even land a simple axel, and now my wrist wants to go too.
“Are you ok, Julian?” My coach asks, snapping me out of my thoughts, the door clicking shut behind him.
“Yeah. Sorry, I was just thinking.” I chuckle.
“I want to talk to you about something.” He says, taking a seat next to me.
Of course, he does, he probably wants to drop my ass right here and now for wasting his time. Now that would be the cherry on top. I breathe deep and nod for him to continue.
“Is there anything going on lately that you want to talk about?” He says, cautiously.
My eyes widen a bit. I never really had a coach ask me something like that, something so personal leaning. I pinch my brows together, debating if I want to tell him the truth or give some rubbish answer.
The truth sounds too vulnerable.
“Listen, I can tell something is bothering you, and I know we never really speak about anything outside of work, but I’m here for you. That means off the ice as well.” He declares.
“Thank you.” I mutter, putting my head down, “I think I just need to get through some personal things.”
“Hey, that’s ok, it happens, take this time to rest and work through it with Holly if that makes you more comfortable.” He smiles at me.
“Thanks,” I mumble.
“Of course, now let’s get you home. No going out buddy!” He chuckles, and I give him a small smile.
* * *
When coach drops me off at my flat, I unlock the door, cradling my wrapped wrist. Great, now showering is going to be super annoying just like everything else going on in my life. I kick my shoes and flop down onto the couch.
Finally, I can cry in peace.
I do just that, letting the sobs wrack through my body. I said I would never let this happen to me again, and here I am.
At least it’s not right before the competition, and I can recover from this, but still. I don’t know if I will ever recover from Carson Young if I let him go, like my mind is screaming at me to.
And because I love ripping my own heart out, I grab my phone and thumb through Carson’s page, laughing through tears because I’m still stalking him, even now, but I really can’t help it.
One of the guys tagged him in a story; it’s just them on the bus heading out to their next game.
But my stomach drops when I notice Avery is sitting behind Carson, that ugly feeling rearing its head.
I throw my arm over my face, tossing my phone to the other side of the couch.
* * *
“So what brings you in today?” Holly says, her tone light.
I lift my wrist, which is twice its size now, and wave it a bit, a smile spreading across my face. Though there’s nothing funny about the last few days.
“Well, you might be at the wrong office for that.” She says, and we both laugh, “Just kidding, what happened? Jeez, Julian, looks pretty bad.” Holly cringes.
“Oh, you know, just me getting distracted right before only the biggest competition of my life, so I fell and smashed my wrist.” I thin my lips, nodding slowly.
“Distraction? And what is that?” Her tone is always easy and warm, pleasant.
“Carson, I think I mentioned him briefly before.” I hum, looking out the window solemnly. Saying his name out loud makes me miss him even more.
“You did.” She says.
“I think I need to let him go. I think I need to let everything go. It was all so much easier when I didn’t have to think about any of this. And now I have feelings for someone, and it’s all I think about. And we’re fighting right now and…” I breathe, releasing everything all at once.
“Wait, I’m, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s ok, Julian. It’s kinda literally my job to listen to you.” She laughs, making me smile.
“Well, first I want to say, on the sports side of things, I don’t think it’s that you need to let anything go, especially not of, your boyfriend?” She questions, her brows raising a bit.
“Well, he’s not my boyfriend. But he’s not not, you know? I don’t know, we’re friends, but you know.” I shake my head because what have me and Carson become exactly?
I’ll need a different session just to talk about that in itself.
We certainly are fighting like we’re in a romantic relationship, but I think I’ve tricked myself into believing I’m not ready. That I still need to feel that gold medal hanging from my neck first before I can allow myself to have him.
Though I think he’s had me this entire time.
“I gotcha, well, I don’t think you have to do that.
We more so have to focus on maybe working on shutting off your personal life at work, separating the two, instead of dismissing having one completely.
It’s unrealistic, Julian. Everyone needs community.
And hey, sometimes it’s hard to maintain.
But it’s worth it. Is he worth it to you? ” She says, smiling.
I pause. I never thought of it that way.
Carson’s “worth” is immeasurable to me.
“He is. More than.” I nod, biting my lip to force back the tears.
“Then that’s all that matters.” She assures.
“Yeah…” I mutter.