"That was very beautiful,chérie. Your body tells the story, just like I asked. What else can your body say?"
I shudder, feeling the blood drain from my face. "She's really young. Younger than I was when he started coaching me."
As Indie nods in agreement, the girl surprises Coach with a kiss on the cheek. I turn the video off and push the phone toward Indie, drawing in a sharp breath.
"Where's the video from?"
Indie sighs. "Bellingham."
I slide her a glance. I've never told Indie outright about Coach Savard's propositions. Nor about the fight we got into right before I fell in nationals and ended my career.
But I think she knows.
"He's still so close. It's like he is starting over with someone new. It's..." I struggle to find the right word. "Distressing."
I watch the video again. There's something in their dynamic I almost recognize. They are close, just as I was close with him once. Then I push that feeling away.
It's nothing. Coach was always like that with his skaters. He was like that with me and it was fine. It was coaching, it was his way of building confidence. The girl is probably thriving.
Right?
"Especially because she's so young," Indie agrees. "That's weird, right?"
Both of my hands have gone still in my lap. That stillness is something my body learned a long time ago, in rooms where reacting wasn't safe.
I blow out a breath. "Not really. Figure skating coaches usually start around that age. I had a coach that moved away when I was fifteen, leaving me in the lurch. Coach Savard was supposed to be the best of the best, so I jumped at the chance to sign on with him."
Indie seems to wait for half a minute for me to say more, but when I don’t, she just nods. "I thought you’d be interested since you trained with him. That’s all."
"Yeah." I swallow. "Do you want to walk back? My ankle says that it's time."
"Sure." She strikes up another topic of conversation, telling me how her straight edge roommate and her party-every-day roommate get intofights all the time. Indie watches, sometimes with popcorn.
I giggle as we walk back. At the dock gate, I cock my head. "Interested in some reality TV?"
"Always!" Indie grins. "But I'm going to have to raincheck. I need to pick up Terra."
That's her little sister. I nod. "Next time.”
"Excellent." She gives me a hug, then walks toward her car.
Sighing, I punch in the gate code and slowly walk back to Thorne's house. Without Indie here to distract me, I'm all alone with my thoughts of Coach Savard, wondering whether he’s telling that little girl the same things he told me.
You have gorgeous legs, chérie. Strong thighs. I bet your boyfriend loves that, no?And then,Oh no boyfriend? Someone would do well to teach you how to act around a real man.
I shudder. Men that pay attention to me always want something from me. In fact, the only men that have never wanted anything?
My brother and Thorne.
Most men aren't capable of being kind without an agenda.
The rest of the evening, it’s just me and Gordie. I spend ten whole minutes house hunting; I widen theperimeter of my search, look for roommate situations, even text Indie about getting an apartment together.
indie
I would but I need to be here to watch Terra.
I’ll ask around tho!
