Since the night of the game, I’ve hardly seen Wren. We’ve been to the
gym like usual and hanging out on campus but she’s not fully there. Even while we’re together, I do most of the taking while she nods and mm hmm’s. It’s like only a part of her is there. The part that was there in the beginning but without the sarcastic comments. Instead, I get concentrated looks and two-word answers. I thought we grew out of that. Even when I make my hilarious gym jokes, she just ignores them.
“Why did the cheese go to the gym?” I said once while I caught my breath, stood over her while she did sit ups.
“Why?” she asked with a bored expression, not even a waver in her voice even after doing fifty sit ups.
“Because he wanted to cheddar a couple pounds,” I replied. She just blinked up at me, not even a crack of a smile on her face. I remember when these kinds of jokes would earn me a toothy grin and a kick in the stomach. Now, she doesn’t even care. Or even pretend to care. She stood up and looked at me.
“Can you spot me on the bench press?” she asked. She barley looked at me for the rest of the day.
I’m beginning to think that the kiss was a bad idea. Sure, in the moment we both wanted it. Badly. She was really fucking enthusiastic about it when she was moaning my name. Since then, in all the posts we’ve put online, she’s asked me to cover her face because she looks too tired. Even when we walk around campus between classes, she keeps a baseball cap over her head. Even though to me, she still looks beautiful. I know she’s probably stressed about the showcase, but I didn’t expect her to be this distant with me.
I just want her to talk to me. To let me in.
She told me that this is what she does. That she always holds people at arm’s length. I believed that when I first met her. I knew she was going to be closed off and I knew I had to work for her to let me in. But I thought that after a while, after we got so comfortable with each other, that wall would crumble. It turns out that wall just been put up stronger than before.
After speaking with Clara, I’ve felt lighter. I still haven’t made the brave decision of calling my mom yet but I’m getting there. I’ve gotten used to watching videos of Carter and hearing his voice without feeling my stomach turn. I’ve also been out in the hockey rink with my gear on. Getting used to being on the ice again has been a difficult adjustment but I’m slowly getting there. And I can’t remember the last time I’ve had anything stronger than a Stella.
I got a phone call yesterday from Coach, asking me to meet him this morning. He knows about the fight. He has to. Someone must have told
him, and this could be the start of the end. I could lose my scholarship and I’d have to move back home and start community college and get my old job back.
I walk the distance from my house to the sports centre to clear my head. I hear the grunts and groans from the figure skating rink, but I tell myself not to look. If I look now, I’ll go to her and mess up her practice and send myself into a procrastination spiral which is the last thing either of us need right now.
I get to Coach Tuckers office and the door’s already open. His office is more like a closet filled top to bottom with sports equipment. There are tons of equipment for sports that he doesn’t even coach and certificates and medals hung on the walls. His desk is piled high with paperwork and folders but when they’re cleared it’s easy to see the pictures that he has on his desk. His most famous photo of him, his husband and their three Corgi’s which he tells us was the day he found out he got the job at North.
When I go in, I’m greeted with a smile, and he gestures towards the seat in front of him. I can’t read his face just yet. I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.
“Miles, I’m sure you know why you’re here,” begins, strangely cheerfully. He leans his forearms on the table, his eyebrows knitted together in a serious expression.
“Uh, I think so,” I reply cautiously. He lets his expression drop and he sighs deeply.
“I heard about what happened after the game. More like, I saw what happened. Harry showed me a video and I heard about Jake said to you. I’d
like to say that I’m sorry he said that,” Coach says, and I shrug, not wanting to relive that moment. “I understand why you did it but I’m still disappointed.”
“If you’re going to kick me off the team for good, can you just say it?” He laughs, shaking his head.
“Miles, I’m not kicking you off the team. You think I haven’t seen you throw a few punches at other players during the games? These things happen and neither of you reported it or were badly injured. As long as you and Jake are cool with each other, I want you to play our first game of the season. You’ve proved that you’re in a better place apart from that mishap and your grades have improved a too.”
“Really?” I exclaim, not able to contain the excitement in my voice. Coach smiles wide, nodding. “You’re not going to regret this, Coach. Thank you.”
“It’s fine, Davis. I still want you to practice over the holidays to prepare.
If you need someone to talk to, you know, about Carter… I’m here.”
“I know,” I say before pulling back my chair and thanking him again.
I have the biggest smile on my face when I walk around to the rink Wren is skating on. I know I shouldn’t but I’m too excited to not tell her right now. Sure enough, she’s in the middle of spinning with her foot high above her head in a black leotard. She skates forwards before doing a triple turn in the air and landing wobbly.
“Fuck me,” she groans loudly, and she begins again.
“I’ve got good news,” I announce. She stops abruptly and stares at me for a long second before floating over to me. She stands at the railing, her
face red and puffy. “I got back on the team.”
Wren’s face lights up and her smile widens. “That’s great, Miles. That’s really good, honestly. That’s great.”
“Yeah, you said that twice,” I laugh, shifting from one foot to the other. “But it’s all thanks to you. So, thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. You’re the one who put the work in.”
I shrug, grinning and we stay silent for a while. She looks at my face in a curious way as if this is the first time and she’s trying to figure me out. Her eyes land on my lips, and they hover there for a beat. Her tongue runs against her bottom lip before shaking her head softly.
“How’s practicing going?” I ask, trying to cut out the tension.
“It’s good. Could be better,” she replies, waving her hands in defeat. “I do need to get back to it, though.” She nods her head towards the empty rink.
“Sure,” I say. “Also, I’m doing that interview with Sophia soon and I’d love for you to come. It could drum up some support for us. Plus, you deserve a break.”
She sighs, chewing her bottom lip. “Fine.” My face cracks into a smie. “That’s my girl.”
*
I try not to take what she said personally when I get home but there’s a
feeling in my chest that I can’t ignore. I know she needs to practice, especially with all the pressure that her mom puts on her, but something feels off.
Maybe it’s because I’ve never seen her like this before and I’m slowly getting attached to her. This is the first time I’ve been around another person who plays a sport that they’ve dedicated their lives to. This showcase is so important to her. If this goes badly then she might not be able to skate again.
I’ve told her before that it would be fine if she did. If she did something else. But she pushed the idea away. She pushed me away. “It’s all or nothing, Miles,” she said once. I believe that she puts her all into everything she does even just in practices, but she can’t see it. She only notices the tiny flaws and the unnoticeable mistakes.
Sometimes, people think she’s mean or insane. I think she’s fucking brilliant.
I just wish she could see herself the way I see her.
