Even if it’s only getting Coach Samuels fired.
My phone rings beside me, and where I expect to see Nina’s name, I see Coach Samuels.
Everything goes still, my body unable to process any movement until Quentin snaps me out of my trance.
“Do you want me to answer?”
“No.” I shake my hand out to rid the nerves, then grab my phone. “I got this.”
I press the answer button, and before I can get a word in, Coach Samuels is screaming.
“You fucking bitch. I told you to keep your mouth shut and you could come back. Why did you need to do that?”
Quentin tenses beside me, and I know he’s about to say something, so I squeeze his thigh to let him know I got this.
“Lovely to talk to you, Samuels,” I say dryly, rolling my eyes. “Because you were never going to let me back. You were going to make sure I never competed again so your daughter can keep her spot. It’s bullshit and not my problem that you’re a shitty human being. Now the world knows it too.”
“You’re going to ruin our gym, you know that? I’ll be forced to retire now, and it’s going to fall apart.”
“No, it’s not. Qualified coaches who aren’t scum will take over. You’re done, Samuels.”
“I swear if I ever see you—”
“Go fuck yourself.”
I hang up the phone, satisfaction rolling through me at finally having my words with him. Hearing how frantic he was over losing his job is exactly what I needed. It may be vindictive, and I could bea better person, but I’m not. I want him to suffer and fuck off to a corner so far I’ll never hear of him again.
Quentin’s vibrating beside me, his jaw locked tight.
“Hey, it’s okay.” I rub his arm, trying to soothe him.
“Hearing someone talk to you that way… God, you have no idea how badly I want to track him down and do very bad things to him.” He seethes.
“While hearing you talk like that is hot, I’d rather our daughter not have to visit you in prison.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, not pleased about how he acted. Can’t say I blame him because if the roles were reversed, I’m pretty sure I’d want to do some damage too.
My phone rings again, and I assume it’s Coach Samuels until I see the number is Team USA headquarters.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Teagan, it’s Sally. I’m the director for the World Olympic Gymnastic Center. I saw your video and wanted to call you personally to apologize for what’s happened to you. It’s something we do not stand with and will not tolerate. Coach Samuels will be removed and stripped of his titles immediately. We’re also going to look into who was a part of the story cover-up and fire them as well.”
“Wow…” I trail off. “Uh, thank you, Sally.”
“No, thank you, Teagan, for sharing your story. It’s inspiring although crappy what happened. We’re going to revamp the gym with new coaches and thorough background checks. It will be reinvented, for the better.”
“That sounds great,” is all I manage to say because I’m shocked and overwhelmed to be hearing this from the director of the team. I’ve heard of Sally but have never once seen or spoken to her.
“And, Teagan, if you ever make it back to competing, we’d love to have you back. Show us you still got it, and you’ll have a home with us again.”
“I’ll be coming back, mark my words.” My voice doesn’t shake as I say it. There’s a surety there that isn’t going anywhere.
“We look forward to it. Congrats on your pregnancy and good luck,” Sally says before hanging up the call.
I’m silent for a few minutes after as I try to process the last ten minutes. My social media notifications are running wild, but I couldn’t care less. Because not only did I finally get closure with Coach Samuels, plus the cherry on top of giving him a bigfuck you, I more importantly got closure for myself.
No longer do I need to worry about training under a coach who treated me so poorly, or figuring out how to get back on a team that I was never going to get back on. Not without outing them to the world.
