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"I'll go home when I'm ready," I said as I came up and faced him.
I was back down when he said, "I think you should go home now."
"No. I said I'll go home when I'm ready."
Kova hissed under his breath. "Adrianna—"
"I'll go home once I'm done. Okay?" I spat and focused on the ceiling.
"And when is that? When you cannot walk anymore?"
I ignored his cheap comment.
"Whenever I'm done. It's not like I'm in anyone's way. No one is even here. So what does it matter?" Everyone but Kova had left nearly two hours ago. "You don't need to be here anyway. I can handle myself."
His eyes bore into mine, one brow raised to a sharp point like he was holding back. "You are overdoing it, Adrianna."
That just irritated me. I was going to get plenty of rest for the whole damn day tomorrow and needed to exhaust myself enough so I could just sleep through it. Otherwise, I'd search things on the internet and feel bad about myself. I'd focus on the pain in my joints, and then they'd hurt even more. Pushing myself with extra conditioning until I could barely walk wasn't the brightest idea I'd ever had, but I was losing control of the situation and this was my way of grasping it and getting through. Especially after the conversation I'd had with my dad and the lack of donor match. I needed this more than ever. I needed to wear my thoughts out and shut my mind down. It's why I loved being at World Cup—it made me forget everything. I didn't want to be alone and stuck inside all day. God forbid the storm got any worse, then I would be stuck in there for days.
"Don't tell me what I need. I'm so sick of hearing what I need from everyone. Tell me, why did you push me off onto Madeline?"
"I did no such thing."
I sat up and faced him, hands still clasped behind my head. Sweat trickled down my temples. "Bullshit. You're lying to me."
"What is going on? Talk to me," he urged, his voice full of concern. "What is on your mind?"
Talk to me. I let out a haughty laugh and went back down. My heart was beating too hard while I tried to talk and work out at the same time.
"Tell me why you haven't spoken to me in days, Coach. Days. You barely even say hi, and now you want to talk?"
"Ah, Coach. You only use Coach when you are angry with me."
I wasn't really angry at him. I was just angry in general. He wasn't helping by telling me to leave.
"What happened between the meet and now for you to pretend I don't exist? I thought we were okay, for the most part anyway."
I hadn’t deliberately sought anyone out, yet I wished he had at least tried to talk to me.
Then it hit me.
I'd gone many days ignoring him and now he was doing it to me. He'd only done it for less than a week and here I was turning into a cry baby over it.
"You're doing it on purpose, aren't you? Because I've been keeping you at arm's length since you married Katja, and you can't stand it anymore. This is your way of getting back at me."
"That is not true." Guilt laced his gentle tone and I felt myself breaking down, one stiff English word at a time. "Not true at all."
"So, I'm imagining it?"
"No. I mean, well…" He sounded remorseful and that was the opposite of what I wanted. "I felt like Madeline was better suited for what you needed. Is that why you are upset and forcing yourself to work out every day after practice now? Because you thought I was ignoring you? I would never do that to you. I am always here to talk if you need me."
I do need you, but I don't want to need you.
I sat up and breathed into his face, trying to catch my breath. My chest was so tight I fought back a flinch from the pain.
"I don't think anything. I know it. You're avoiding me."
Goddammit, I knew I was being irrational, only, I didn't know how to stop it.
