Page 40 of The Fall

He slowly shakes his head. “No. It’s different. My mind isn’t in a constant state of pushing myself. When I’m not with you two on the ice, I can take a second to think. Take a day off without ruining my training schedule. I can come home in the middle of the day while you’re working out or at dance to check on Mom if I want to. I feel so much relief now that I’m not competing.”

I’ve never thought about when I might retire. Obviously, I know it will happen someday, but it’s always seemed so far away. But I can understand what he means. The pressure we put on ourselves as athletes is not maintainable. Even during the off-season, what little we get, there’s always something that can be worked on or worried about for the upcoming season. I can’t remember a time when I truly felt at peace. My mind is always going.

“Thanks for telling me,” I say quietly.

He turns to look at me, and a lazy smile tugs at his lips. “Thanks for listening. And thanks for giving me a chance as your coach.”

“Well, to be fair, I didn’t really have a choice.” He laughs at that. “But it’s kinda working out so far.”

“I guess we’ll see after this competition,” he says.

“I guess we will.”

We sit out outside enjoying the Colorado sunset for a little while longer until I yawn and he decides it’s time to take me home. There’s no more hand-holding or small touches as I say goodbye to his family and we make the trip back to the rink to get my car. He thanks me again for coming to dinner.

As I drive home, I wonder if I overanalyzed everything he did tonight. Do I want him holding my hand to mean something when it didn’t? Was his hand resting on my leg because I simply sat too close to him and it was the most convenient place to put it?

I’m not cut out for this. My relationship with Max is easy because we both know why we’re there. I don’t do other relationships because I’m no good at them. Now, I’m going to go home and lie in bed, overthinking every single thing I did or said all night long and wonder if it was appropriate or if I gave him some sort of invisible sign.

This is the last thing I need in my life right now.

FOURTEEN

SAVANNAH

Two weeks have gone by in the blink of an eye, and my first comp of the season jitters are in full effect.

The three of us ride to the airport together, Max and Logan keeping the conversation going while I stew in my own nervousness. I’ve skated in dozens of competitions, by myself and with partners, and the first one with a new program is always the scariest. I don’t have any bad experiences or horror stories to share, so I’m not sure why I get so nervous. At this point, I’d probably consider my nervousness part of my routine. If I weren’t nervous, I’d be worried.

“This is gonna be good,” Max says as his hand comes down on my leg. He’s bouncing off the walls with excitement. I’m not sure how he does it. I’ve never once seen Max get nervous. It’s another reason we work so well together. He balances me out.

“Yeah,” I agree with him, hoping it’s true. We’ve practiced our programs so many times, I’m sure I could do them in my sleep by now. This competition is not make-or-break for the season, but I want to start off strong. I want our peers to see that we mean business. We’re not messing around anymore. We were never messing around, but we were also never at the top of our groups.

We’re looking to change that this year.

I look over at Logan, who’s sitting across the aisle from us on the plane. He looks completely relaxed, and why wouldn’t he? He’s not competing.

Things have been strange between us since dinner at his house. He’s been strictly business ever since. There have been no small touches. No secret smiles. He hasn’t even been skating after our practices. I never thought I’d be upset about that, but here we are.

Upset might not be the right word. Confused, maybe? I thought we shared something that night at his house, but apparently I was wrong. I know it’s better this way anyway. I need to focus. Getting to the Olympics is my number one priority. Boys and how they feel about me should be the very last thing on my list. But every time I try to push Logan from my mind, he comes bouncing right back in. He’s just as annoying in my head as he is in real life.

I watch a movie and listen to some of my audiobook on the flight, and I’m relatively calm on the way to the rink, but my nerves kick into high gear again once we get there. I’ve been to this rink before and skated in this competition before. Hell, I’ve probably been judged by these same judges before. But this season is different. I want to be a top contender. I want people to watch us skate and think, “Yeah, they’re going to the Olympics. They’re the best the USA has to offer.”

This is the year.

It has to be.

“You two go warm up. I’ll meet you at the ice in a few minutes.” Logan takes our suitcases, leaving us with our skates, and walks over to a group of people who look like they probably work for U.S. Figure Skating. I watch him walk off. His navy blue slacks fit him perfectly, and his white button-down stretches across his shoulders and arms. He’s more dressed up than I’ve ever seen him, and he looks really, really good. Ice skaters tend to have nice, muscular asses, and Logan? Yeah, he’s been very blessed in that department.

I wonder if he’s even a little nervous. This is his first competition as a coach. Didn’t he say if we fail, he fails, too?

Max grabs my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Come on. Let’s warm up.”

We find an unoccupied spot and start stretching. Max looks around, seeing who’s already here. We’ve been skating with a lot of these couples for years and know they’re good. I just hope we’re a little bit better this time. Logan seems to think we will be. I’m just not sure how much I can trust his opinion yet.

“I can’t wait to see everyone’s program,” Max says as he folds his torso over his leg to stretch his hamstring.

I almost scoff, but I manage to keep it inside. This is how we’re different. He wants to see everyone’s program because he’s curious and wants to cheer on his peers. I don’t want to see anyone’s program because the entire time I watched, I’d be comparing it to ours and wondering what we could’ve done better. I’m not able to watch other couples’ performances with an unbiased mind.