“Yes.”
What the hell?
Basically, I’m in the doghouse now. Great.
Blue Ridge Springs is the small town in Colorado where I grew up – a beautiful place surrounded by endless waves of mountains that are dusted in snow in the winter. Funnily enough, this is where it all started almost a decade ago, when Coach spotted me training at the snow park one gloomy morning. We’re both from there, you see. He’s someone I’ve looked up to my whole life and it’s an honor to be one of his trainees.
Wyatt Wilson is a five-time gold medalist – one of the best snowboarders to ever compete. Unfortunately for him, a severe injury forced him to put an end to his career, and that’s when he started coaching. That’s when he invited me to grab a coffee and asked if I had an agent, and if I wanted to join his team to compete all around the world.
That had been the easiestyesI’d ever uttered.
Even though he’s currently giving me so much shit, I’m still grateful to him. But, right now, he’s irritating me, and I’m tempted to end the call, but that would only worsen my case.
I don’t exactly visit Blue Ridge Springs much. To be frank, I kind of avoid my hometown like the plague. Unless it’s anemergency regarding my mom or sisters, I try to stay away as much as possible. So, being banished from training and forced to go back there to think about my mistakes is not only making annoyance wrap around my chest, but it pisses the hell out of me too. Why? Because there’s nothing to do except ski or snowboard in the winter there.
It seems like Coach Wilson’s main goal is to torture me. What have I done to deserve this?
I thought attempting a Quad Cork 1800 during the tournament would give me the gold medal. I had landed the trick perfectly during practice the day before, but I was clearly out of focus during the competition. Coach had also advised me not to do the figure because, for one, it’s dangerous, and, two, it’s one of the most difficult stunts to land – but who am I if I don’t take risks? Well, obviously, it has cost me a lot.
“Enlighten me, then,” I say dryly. “How is going back home going to help?”
“You’re going to go to physiotherapy. Three times a week.” My fingers dig into the fabric of the armchair as it dawns on me that there’s no way out. “I’ve already arranged for you to meet with Dr Ellis. He’s a great one, and you’ll be in good hands.”
“Awesome,” I drawl.
“Please stop with the sarcasm,” he snaps. “You’re already testing my patience.”
Tightening my jaw, I look at the screen. The call has been going on for thirty-two minutes. We’ve been going in endless, pointless circles. “Sorry.”
A sigh echoes from his side of the line. “You can’t snowboard while you’re there. At all.”
“Yeah, you already said that.” I drag my hands over my face, hating this ordeal. But he needs me to think about my actions. To do better. To change. My entire future lies in the palm ofCoach’s hand. “You expect me to go to a snow resort and not get on a board?”
“Watch what happens if you so much as think about stepping on skis or a snowboard.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Are you threatening me?”
“You’re not taking me seriously, so yes.”
Coach isn’t one to joke, and that makes me even angrier.
But there’s no use in arguing with him, so I relent. “Fine.”
Deep down, I know he’s doing this to prevent me from hurting myself even further, but he should be the first one to understand that I can’t breathe without snowboarding. This is going to be really, really, really hard, and I might not survive those three months. I don’t know how he expects me to do so.
Coach Wilson and my sponsors are diabolical.
“Good. That’s not it, though.” Of course, it isn’t. “I don’t want you to wallow and be miserable, so you’ll have to work.”
“Work?”
“It’s not a word that belongs in your vocabulary, is it?”
I scoff. “No need to be an ass, Coach.”
“Sorry.” He’s not sorry at all. “But, yeah, you’ll work at Rock Snow and you’ll assist the owner’s daughter during her skiing lessons. I need you to give back to the community.”
“Give back to the community?!” What does that even mean?
