“And now you want to change your program behind your trainer’s back.” I pause. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Gwen. Talk it over with him again.”
“There’s no point,” she answers. Her body language is stiff, as if she’d made up her mind a long time ago. She lifts her chin, pushes back her chair, and stands up. “Training’s about to start.”
Aaron, Levi, and I look at one another as she hurries off.
“That’s Gwen,” Levi mumbles. “Once she’s got something in her head, no one’s going to stop her.”
“More stubborn than a bull seeing red,” Aaron sighs.
We all stand up to make our way to the rink. But watching Gwen, how concentrated she is practicing the triple Lutz and seeing her wobble as soon as her skates hit the ice, I realize it’s not a simple case of being stubborn. I haven’t known her long, but her ups and downs and behavior patterns that I’ve noticed ’til now make me think she, too, is fighting some kind of battle in her head. One I don’t know a thing about. But I know how difficult it is for her to pretend that everything’s okay. As if she were nothing but the energetic bouncy ball that everyone takes her for.
Because the most difficult thing is killing the monster inside without damaging yourself in the process.
17
Still Searching for You in Every Sunrise
Knox
“That was crap, Knox.” My trainer’s face is hard, his lips a thin line. Cameron Pierce is one of the best coaches in snowboarding, and with his gray eyes, dark hair, and tanned skin, he’s most likely the most sought-after bachelor in the world of sports. For years he won the X Games and took home the gold a bunch of times from the Olympics. As far as training is concerned, he is strict and critical, but normally pretty happy with my performance. Not today.
He comes stomping over to me through the snow as I’m getting out of my bindings following that miserable ride. “How hungover are you, man? That was your worst performance in weeks! You want to show up at the X Games with that crap and disgrace yourself in front of the whole world?”
I can feel the sweat running down my neck and disappearing in the collar of my ski jacket. Frustrated, I shove my goggles over my helmet and pull my board after me. It’s one of the most expensive boards on the market, sponsored by Rockstar Energy, and yet I don’t give a shit if I bang it up. “Sorry. Heavy party yesterday.”
That’s a lie. I hardly know a thing about the party because Paisley was there. It’s got a lot more to do with her going back toWyatt’s frigging comment this morning. I could still kick his ass for that one. But, sadly, I know him too well. If he hadn’t been so fucked up, he never would have mentioned it.
Cameron snorts and digs his snow boot into the ground, which means he’s really pissed. “Heavy party? Knox, goddamn it, do you take your success seriously at all?”
Truthfully? No. Success interests my dad, not me. If it were up to me, I’d throw away all this fame to study psychology and only ride this board here when I wanted to. But, at this point, it hasn’t been up to me for a long time. This here is Dad’s dream. And after Mom died, it’s the only dream he still has.
I sigh, stick my board into the snow, and squint against the sun in order to be able to look into Cameron’s face. “Sorry, Cam. You know what I can do. This won’t happen again.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t care how many parties you throw or how drunk you get, Knox. What I am interested in is what you do on your board. And what you just did was a goddamn catastrophe. That’s enough for today. Just make sure you bring what I’m used to seeing from you tomorrow.”
“Got it.”
Cam puffs up his cheeks, shakes his head again, then lets the air back out. “I know what kind of day today is, Knox. You haven’t lost anything yet. Go and let the pain happen. You’re strong. You know who you are.” He smiles. “Sometimes these kinds of days even allow you to forget things a bit.”
My breath is shaky. There’s a lump in my throat that’s growing bigger and making it tough to breathe. I hadn’t realized Cam knew what today meant.
I nod. “Thanks.”
Cameron puts his hand on my shoulder and pulls me into a brief but strong embrace before turning around and walking off the slope. For a while, I stand there motionless, breathing the cold air into my lungs, the smell of the snow. I look toward the sun rising over thetallest range and close my eyes. The warm rays grace my cheeks, give me a feeling of security and comfort. Only when they’ve melted the lump in my throat do I turn and make my way to the gondolas. The whole way there I feel fuzzy, can hardly get my thoughts together, I keep seeing alternating images of my mother and Paisley. I try to shake them off a few times, but it doesn’t work.
Paisley is so similar to my mother. Her fiery personality, the blond hair and blue eyes, the iron will, and, above all, ambition as far as skating is concerned. I hate the fact that I associate her with Mom, because that makes me think about her constantly, and that hurts, goddamn it. A stinging sensation right in my heart, one that leaves me with a fierce craving.
The gondola jerks to a stop and the doors open. Lost in my thoughts, I get out and walk a bit. I am so caught up inside myself that I don’t even notice Harper coming toward me. I only become aware of her when she’s right in front of me, placing her hands on my hips and snuggling into me.
Her showing up doesn’t exactly make me feel any better. The opposite, in fact. Every time I remember that I opened myself up to a figure skater—even if just for one night—I hear her again. The screams.
I try to get loose and take a step back, but Harper is holding on tight. Only once I pry her hands off my hips do I succeed in freeing myself from her climbing-plant-like grip.
“Hey.” Harper is beaming, she tucks her red hair behind an ear and bats her fake eyelashes so showily, I’m afraid they’ll fall off. “Nice to see you. I…umm…called you.”
“Yeeeah…” In fact, she didn’t just call me; she subjected me to a total onslaught of calls. I know I should have told her that what happened between us was a one-time thing. No big deal. But to be honest, I was hoping she’d understand when I didn’t respond.
I put on an apologetic smile and scratch my neck. “Harper…between the two of us… I’m sorry. Really. But it’s not going to turninto anything.”
