Chapter 25 Stefan #2
I feel like I'm a child again. Like I can't do anything right.
My parents are mad at me. I'm in a corner crying, and nothing I can do will make it better. I need them to smile at me, but the only surefire way to make them do that is to skate well. It’s always worked.
My whole life, the best way to make them happy was to succeed on the ice.
The most upset I’ve ever seen them was when I got suspended from Worlds two years ago. Even after the Olympics, they were sympathetic. The suspension almost got me kicked out of the family.
It wasn’t until the suspension was finished and I was back on competition ice that the glaring stopped.
Which means I have to be able to participate in this event. And I have to win it. Convince them I’m not the fuck-up, the one-trick pony with an anger problem, that I am.
But what can I do to make that happen? To help myself?
Is there anything?
The lawyer must start talking again, because Mom answers, then hands my phone back to me. Is her face a little softer now, or am I just grasping at straws? She gives my head a pat before she walks away, and my heart stops. Does that mean she approves? Is she ok with my relationship?
Thank fuck Evan and I never got around to exploring my kinks via text. I doubt she'd approve if she saw him ordering me around or something. Even though I know it’s not his thing, just something he does because I like it.
Because Evan is amazing and wonderful and everything good in the world. Since I have my phone back, I assume that means I'm allowed to text my boyfriend.
Me
Not really, but doing my best
His response comes almost instantly.
Evan
Thank God! I was so worried about you. Where are you?
Me
My parents' room. They're talking to lawyers and stuff
Evan
You're missing your training session.
Shit. Has it been that long already? My training session wasn’t until one. But yep, my phone tells me that’s the time.
I glance up at my parents. Neither of them is paying any attention to me, and I don’t think I want to draw it.
But I need to get out of this room, onto the ice.
I need this session. "Dad," I ask, tentatively.
As if I'm not a twenty-two-year-old man who ought to be capable of running his own life and dealing with his own problems.
"What?" He turns to face me and those furrows are still in his brow. Fuck.
"Am I allowed to train today? Because I'm missing my ice time."
He growls. Actually growls. At me? Maybe the authorities, or the situation in general. "We're working on it. Patience."
Right, well, ok then.
Me
Apparently they're working on it. Whatever that means. Why aren't you out on the ice?
Evan
I was just heading out when I heard my phone.
Me
You should go
Even if I can’t be out there, Evan needs to be. He can’t let me stop him, hold him back. I won’t let him.
Evan
I will in a minute. Are you ok?
Me
I think Mom read all our messages
It's not really a response, but I'm also not sure how I should respond. Can't tell whether I am or not yet. I'm still too numb.
Evan
Well, crap.
Despite the absolute shit show I'm in the middle of, I can't help but smile.
Me
Actually, I think she might have approved
Evan
That's... good?
My smile is growing, turning into something real, something genuine.
This man is so fucking perfect. If all of this is good for anything, it's that maybe, just maybe, we can take our relationship public. We can be real. Sure, there will be a million challenges, but for Evan, I’d do just about anything.
Assuming that’s what he wants. We've always sort of talked around it, both of us on the same page, before. We've never planned for this contingency, and now that I’m embroiled in yet another fighting mess, why would he want to go public? Be with me in general. All I’d do is bring him down.
He's beautiful and perfect and just coming into his own in the skating world. He doesn't need this.
But shit. It’s Evan. He’d never give up on someone because it wasn’t good for him.
He’ll push harder, if anything, try to be there for me when I’m the last person he should be attached to.
I’m not good enough for him. I’m not good enough for anyone.
All that anger management therapy and I still punched Alexandre.
And fuck, he’s already doing it. Already giving up on what he needs for me. Taking time he should be on the ice to check on me, to console me. When he's just as affected by everything. I can’t let him. I have to stop this.
I have to let him go. Let him be his best, without me. At least until everything is settled down. Then we can really talk it over, if he even wants to.
Me
Go do practice. I’m fine. It’ll all work out
A knock comes from the door, and all three of us startle, staring at it.
Dad starts to rise, but Mom waves him back down, saying something to the lawyer as she cracks it open.
Her face closes up even more, if possible, and she opens the door fully, admitting the two national coaches who accompanied us to Circuit America.
Well, fuck.
The room is way too crowded now. Dad gets up from his perch at the desk and approaches the coaches. They give him a nod, but they’re looking at me. I stand as well. Sitting in a room full of standing adults feels like giving all of them the high ground.
So now we’re all standing, awkwardly grouped somewhere between the door and the bed, circling the chair I was in a moment ago.
The woman—fuck, I really do need to learn their names. Why do I always forget them?—clears her throat, looks at her companion. For support? He doesn’t take over, just gives her a little nod, and she sighs, looking back over at me.
“Stefan…” Her voice trails off for a moment, then she clears her throat again and her expression tightens. “You’ve put all of us in a difficult situation.”
“Yeah, kinda got that.” I don’t mean for the words to come out sarcastic, but they do. Fuck. Sounding like I’m talking back to the two people who are in charge of my future is not a good idea.
I can feel Dad’s glare from somewhere off to my right. But too late to take it back now.
“We’d like to avoid this morning turning into a full-fledged ICS investigation, if we can.”
That makes me breathe a bit more easily. Because it sounds like they’ve got my back. I guess there’s something to be said for being your country’s biggest hope for gold medals. “Yeah, that would be good.” Hopefully I sound a little more conciliatory this time.
She nods. “We’ve spoken with Alexandre and his coaches, and they’ve agreed to allow us to handle it internally, given the circumstances.”
The circumstances? I’d have thought Alexandre would be taking this straight up every chain of command he can find, doing his best to ruin me for good. What would convince him not to? Mom asks the question for me. “Why would he agree?”
The coach nods again, this time toward Mom. “He admitted that he posted those pictures to the Skate Canada coaches. We’re using it to our advantage.”
“Posting pictures isn’t illegal,” Dad says, his voice harsh. Is he fighting against me here? Is he that pissed off at me?
“No,” the woman answers, “but outing someone against their will is against the ICS Code of Conduct. Alexandre clearly knew it was, at the very least, unethical, since he used a fake account to do so. Since both of you have committed violations of the code, it’s in everyone’s best interest to keep it quiet. ”
My breath comes rushing in, a weight lifting off my shoulders. Is this going to be ok?
The coach apparently recognizes that I’m starting to feel relief, because she holds up a hand. “That said, we cannot let you just punch other contestants with impunity, no matter the offense, Stefan.”
Shit.
“He was—” I start to explain, but she holds up her hand again, stalling me.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re off Team America.”