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When I strip off though, I notice my knee is really swollen, the compression bandage now stretched over it. I don’t know why I do it, but something makes me decide to quickly snap a picture of it before I jump in the shower.
The next morning,I’m back out on the slopes, running the slalom tracks all morning, even though my knee is killing me. I’d iced it last night, which had helped with the swelling, but considering the coach is pushing me even harder today, I can only imagine how bad it’s going to be tonight.
After lunch, he asks me how it is and when I admit it’s sore, he just nods, smiling as he says, “It’s just going to take some time, Nick. You’ve been off skis for a while, so your body is just getting used to it again.”
I want to tell him that actually, it’s probably going to take rest and more physical therapy, not more skiing, but I don’t. I can’t afford to piss him off if I’m trying to get out of my contract.
“Okay, I think after lunch, we’ll have you try an in-run single?—”
“You want me to jump?” I ask, shocked. It’s literally my second day back on skis.
The coach holds up a hand as though to pacify me but all it does is make me want to punch him in the face. I know he says he’s got my best interests at heart and as one of the best jumpers on the team, he’s never going to risk anything, but right now it feels like he gives zero fucks about me or my knee.
“Just a single kicker, Nick. No turns or twists, I just want to see you down the in-run and then landing.”
I stare at him, trying to figure out if he’s being serious right now. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I finally admit. “My knee is pretty sore.”
“Your knee is just re-learning everything,” he says, offering me a smile that doesn’t feel the least bit sincere. “It’s going to take time to adjust, you knew that, but everything’s fine for you to be doing this. The team doctor has cleared you.”
Something about the way he says all of this, sounds wrong. Like he’s trying too hard to be positive or convincing or whatever. Still, I know I can’t argue with him. The team doctorhascleared me, so I have to do this, even if every fiber of my being is screaming at me not to risk it.
Fuck, I really need the Holden’s lawyer to find something.
Quickly.
18
ELISSA
“How’s it going there?” I ask Nick, trying not to sound concerned or depressed, even though I’m both of these things.
It was really nice having Harper come to stay with me the night Nick left, but I can’t ask her to stay with me every night to help quell this loneliness. She has a family and a life, and I also do too, and I need to get back to it. Focusing on Nick leaving isn’t for the best because there’s nothing we can do about it.
“It’s good,” Nick replies, and the conversation is stilted. A lull falls over us, and then Nick blurts out, “I miss you.”
“I miss you too. How is the jumping going? Any better than yesterday? The knee holding up okay?” I change the subject, the fear of crying looming too close if we talk about our separation. We’ve talked every day since he left, texting nonstop and not missing a single second of a phone call or FaceTime from each other.
I want Nick to do well, even if I also want him to come home and forget his ski career. He’s never been one to do anything half-assed, working hard even when he doesn’t want to. It’s something I’ve always admired about him, and it’s the reason he’s where he is now. All his dedication to his craft led him to the US team and training for the Olympics.
“It’s going. My knee still feels fucked,” Nick admits, and as much as I was so jealous of his physical therapist, I want to reach out to her and see what she thinks about it all.
“What’s the team doctor saying?” I ask, feeling my anxiety spike thinking about Nick’s future and his health. Nothing is worth risking a major accident.
“He wants to do some steroid injections to speed up healing,” Nick tells me, and again we fall silent. “I said no, but it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear.”
“You were cleared so why would you need steroid injections?” I ask, swallowing back the tears that build. I don’t want this life for Nick, making decisions that impact his future based on some quack of a doctor who is only in this for the money.
“Because, Lis, they want me back and fully healed already. I’m only good to them if I’m landing the extreme jumps I was doing before.”
He lets out a hard sigh, and I wish I knew what to say to make things better for us. Every night I think about the lawyer and if he’s made any progress with the contract, but it has only been a week. Things like this take time.
“Something doesn’t feel right, Lis,” Nick admits, and his words catch me off guard. “It feels different than when I initially made the team, like they’re keeping something from me.”
“What do you mean?” I question, fear gripping me.
“I don’t know. They keep pushing me to jump and wanting me to get the injections.” Pausing, he sighs again. “Maybe it’s just because I don’t want to be here.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, but now I’m questioning everything too. His coach and the team doctor should be there to support Nick, but I’m not sure that’s what’s happening. If anything, it feels like they’re pushing him to do things that don’t feel right.
