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stargazer-sims · 1 month

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The Art of Redemption

(part 14)

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—————

Eden's cousin leaves halfway through the group class.

For students Eden's age, most of the caregivers don't hang around to watch the class. Stan's grandson Marek and three little girls Nikolai doesn't know are also in the class and they don't have any adult caregivers present either, so Eden being there without an adult family member isn't odd from Nikolai's point of view. It's the fact that the cousin would just get up and disappear before class was over that unsettles him, particularly because now class actually is over and another one will be starting soon, and there's no sign of anyone coming to collect Eden.

For his part, Eden doesn't seem bothered. Once he has his skates off, he happily climbs onto the bench and plops himself down next to Nikolai with a cheerful, "So, what did you think? Everybody in our class is really good, right?"

Eden is so tiny, the toes of his boots aren't touching the floor, and Nikolai has to remind himself that the boy is only a few months away from turning eleven. He smiles. "Everyone in your class is really good, but I'd say you and that red-haired girl are the best."

"Oh, that's Everleigh," Eden says. "She totally is the best. She wants to do pairs when she gets older, and she has a big crush on my friend Marek, but he thinks girls are gross. I like girls, but sometimes I think I like boys too, but actually I don't want to date anybody because I have to think about my career first. Are you dating anybody?"

"That's a lot, Eden. Are you always this talkative?"

"No," Eden says, casually swinging his little legs. "But, I like you."

"To answer your question, I'm not dating anybody. I'm married."

Eden nods sagely. "My dad says marriage is sacred, but I don't know about that. I think it just means you have to pay a lot of bills and complain about things like having to change the oil in your car or somebody leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor."

Nikolai laughs. "Not going to lie, I like your definition better. It's more accurate, from my experience."

"Does your wife complain about you leaving towels on the floor?"

"Yeah, and sometimes I complain about her doing it too. She complains about my cat shedding, and I complain about how long it takes her to get ready to go anywhere."

His and Anya's problems aren't nearly that trivial or innocent, but he's not about to tell a ten year old child that his marriage is in shambles and he's all but made up his mind to ask his wife to agree to a divorce. This is assuming he can work up the courage, of course. He doubts Anya will make it easy for him in any case, and he's not looking forward to the confrontation.

"I'm never getting married," Eden declares.

"Good choice," says Nikolai.

"Yeah. Yi-Joon says I'm probably going to be too high-maintenance for anyone to handle anyway, but y'know what? I'm okay with that."

"Yi-Joon?" Nikolai inquires.

"My stupid cousin," Eden clarifies. "He came here from South Korea last summer to stay with us for a year and learn English. He's so annoying. All he does besides go to language school is watch K-dramas and talk to girls on the phone and go to expensive coffee places. I don't think he even likes sports."

"We aren't all going to like the same things," Nikolai says. "Life would be kind of boring if we were all into the same stuff, don't you think? Our differences are what make us interesting."

"Maybe, if people respected what other people were into."

"Do you respect what your cousin is into?"

"He can like K-dramas if he wants to. I don't like them, but I don't try to stop him from watching them, and I don't make fun of him for it."

"That's all anyone should reasonably ask for."

"I think so too, but it's like I'm asking too much when I want people to respect what I like. I want Yi-Joon to stop making fun of me about skating. And my parents... they don't even get that It's not just a hobby. I really want to do this. Like, to be a real athlete."

"You want to know something?" Nikolai says. "My parents don't get it either. They've always supported me, but I'm not sure they've ever really understood my love for skating."

"At least they supported you," says Eden. "My parents want me to stop skating."

"Yeah, so I heard."

Nikolai glances down at the ice, where Beth-Anne has just returned and is now setting up her orange cones for the next class, which is a group of preschoolers. A different group than the one Gabriel Torres is in, he'd learned. Beth-Anne has two preschool groups, and this morning on the way to the rink she told him she's hoping that he'll be able to take over teaching one of them by autumn. He wonders if he will be.

"You know what I'm worried about?" Eden is saying.

"What is it?"

"I'm a kid. I'm not allowed to decide anything important. If my parents decide I have to stop skating, I'm gonna have to, and by the time I'm old enough to decide anything for myself, it's gonna be too late." He sighs, sounding far older than his ten years. "If Beth-Anne can't make them understand, my dream is basically dead. My parents are gonna kill it, and if that happens I don't know what I'm going to do with my life."

There are probably a thousand different responses Nikolai could make to this. He could say there's life beyond skating and that Eden's too young to stress about what to do with the rest of his life, or he could just offer some platitude about trying not to worry. But, he realizes he doesn't want to say any of that, because Eden is right.

If Eden's parents make him quit skating now, by the time he has the autonomy to make his own choices, it will be too late to be competitive in the way he clearly wants to be. Nikolai recognizes Eden's passion for the sport and his drive to succeed. It's the same energy and intensity Nikolai had; the same obsession that carried him to six top-three finishes at the World Championships, to his two Worlds gold medals, right up to the moment when he crash-landed in Taiwan.

No, it didn't end there, whispers a small, insistent voice in his mind. You still love the sport that much, and you can still succeed in it, just in a different way.

He turns to fully face Eden, who's starting up at him expectantly. "You know how I said I'd like to be your coach some day?"

"Yeah," Eden says.

"I meant that."

"I believed you," Eden tells him. "But, what's that got to do with my future if my parents make me give up skating? If I'm not skating, what'll I need a coach for?"

"Exactly," Nikolai says.

Eden looks perplexed. "This isn't helping."

"Don't worry," Nikolai says. "I am going to help you."

"How?"

"Your parents are worried about you getting hurt, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Eden confirms. "Like, all of a sudden, for some reason. It's not like I just started doing jumps or something. I could do a waltz jump when I was six and I did my first single jump when I was seven, and I fell loads of times before I got it right. My parents have seen me fall a bunch of times, but they never seemed too worried about it until this January or so."

"Maybe because it never occurred to them before that a fall could completely change your life."

"What do you mean?"

Nikolai gestures down at his leg. "I mean, it could literally change your life. I'm never going to compete again because I seriously hurt myself when fell at the Four Continents back in January."

"Wait..." Eden frowns, his delicate brows scrunching together in concentration. "You got hurt in January? Do you think my parents know anything about that?"

"I don't know," Nikolai says. "Your parents and I have never met. Do they watch competitions on TV or read sports news online?"

"They watch competitions with me sometimes, but I don't know if they watch stuff by themselves or look at anything on the internet. But... you don't think they're trying to make me stop skating because one person they don't even know got hurt, do you? 'Cause like, that's kind of stupid."

"To tell you the truth, I have no idea why they're trying to make you stop," Nikolai admits. "All I know is, somebody has to convince them that it's not a good idea."

"Somebody... like you?"

"Yeah, that's kind of what I had in mind."

"Really? You'd really do that for me? You don't even know me very well yet."

"Not yet, but I'd like us to get to know each other. Besides, you've got way too much talent to throw away your opportunities. Plus, I've seen you on the ice and it doesn't take a genius to know how happy you are when you're skating and how much you love it."

"I do love it," Eden says. "If skating was a person, I'd probably marry it."

"I thought you said you're not getting married."

"I'd make an exception for skating," Eden says. "You know, 'cause I'd want us to live happily ever after with all our medals."

"And you wouldn't complain about wet towels on the floor, or damp, stinky skate stockings?"

Eden giggles. "Maybe a little bit about the stockings. They do get pretty gross. Beth-Anne says when I get a little older, I won't have to wear them any more. She says I can just put my bare feet in my skates if I want to."

"That's pretty gross too, honestly," Nikolai says. "Trust me, I know. But, you'll be able to feel your edges better with nothing on your feet. That'll be important when you start competing."

"If I start competing."

"When," Nikolai repeats.

Eden hesitates for a beat, but then looks up to meet Nikolai's eyes and echoes. "When."

"Good," Nikolai praises him. "You have to believe in getting what you want. That's part of how you succeed."

"You're already coaching me," Eden says, sounding a little amazed. "You really did mean it."

"I'm not..." Nikolai begins, but then quickly realizes Eden isn't wrong.

How many talks has he had with Stan and Beth-Anne over the years about things only tangentially related to skating? Coaching is more than helping an athlete perfect his technical skills. It's also about helping him with his self-confidence and his overall attitude. It's about being a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, a teacher about life as well as sport, a mentor, a confidant, a friend, and sometimes a disciplinarian. Beth-Anne has done all that for him and she's still doing it, and the thought that he's already able to pay her kindness and wisdom forward fills him with an emotion that feels like a mixture of astonishment and pride.

He smiles and offers, "You know what they say. Practice makes perfect."

Eden returns the smile. "I think you're going to be a super great coach, Nikolai."

"Thanks," he says.

"When my parents come to pick me up, you should tell them you're going to be my coach."

"I don't think—"

"Yeah, you should! You want to do it, and you said it's important to believe in getting what you want."

Nikolai grins. "So, you're obviously paying attention."

"I'm a great student," Eden says. "Anyway, the way I see it, you can't be a coach without a student, and Beth-Anne already said I'm gonna need a different coach when I get to Junior division, so I think we have to help each other get what we want."

"Okay," Nikolai says. "I'll talk to your parents when they come to get you, but maybe leave the strategy to me for now, all right?"

"Okay," Eden agrees. "This has got to work, though! With you and Beth-Anne both talking to them, they have to change their minds!"

Nikolai has to concede that Eden's enthusiasm is infectious, and he wants to be as optimistic as his potential future student, but he has the unfortunate reality of experience looming over his shoulder. He hopes the parents can be convinced to let their son continue skating, but he's enough of a realist to know that it may take more than the opinion of a stranger to sway them.

"Like I said before," he tells Eden. "I can't make any promises beyond promising to do my best."

Eden reaches over and pats his hand. "I believe in you."

Unexpectedly, Nikolai feels a lump in his throat. He barely knows this kid, but for some reason he already feels a connection with him.

Is this how Beth-Anne felt about me that first day? he wonders. He files the idea away so he can ask her about it later.

His very next thought is, I cannot let this child down.

He has no clue how he's going to do it, but somehow he has to make Eden's parents understand what's at stake. It's not just competitions and medals. It's Eden's well-being, his sense of purpose. His raison d'être, as Anya's coach Isabelle might say.

Nikolai remembers how he'd felt, hearing the doctors in Taiwan saying that he'd never skate again. To say his very soul had been crushed wouldn't be enough. It'd been as if his entire world shattered into a million pieces around him. He'd barely been able to survive that, and maybe he's not completely out of the proverbial woods yet. If it's this difficult for an adult, he shudders to think of what losing something so important would do to a young boy like Eden.

And what sort of second chance would Eden get? Unlike Nikolai, he doesn't have a new opportunity waiting for him to transition into.

Nikolai recognizes he's lucky. Coaching is a natural progression for him, especially with the knowledge that he'll be able to return to the ice soon and with Beth-Anne ready and willing to train him. It all became more tangible when his doctor here told him that not only would he make a full recovery but that he'd still be able to skate. His aching heart had swelled with hope at that news.

Now, it's growing again with a new surge of determination. He wants to succeed for Eden, but even more so for himself. The future doesn't seem as bleak and scary any more, and he wants more than anything to make it evolve into a scenario in which he isn't merely settled and unafraid, but happy, thriving and fearless once again.

#writing #the art of redemption #theartofredemption #nikolai pavlenko #eden seong #stargazersims

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stargazer-sims · 1 month

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The Art of Redemption

(part 16)

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—————

This morning, Nikolai is seeing Beth-Anne, Brett and Brett's guardian Jordy off to South Korea, to the World Junior Figure Skating Championship.

Despite his initial concerns that he wouldn't cope well with this situation, he's doing all right. Admittedly, he was a little anxious about Beth-Anne leaving, and he's still slightly envious of Brett's opportunity to compete at one of the most important international skating events of the season, but neither feeling has proved overwhelming enough to prevent him from staying calm and behaving like a normal adult.

A few days ago, Nikolai suggested it'd make sense if he brought Beth-Anne, Brett and Jordy to the airport instead of Jordy or Beth-Anne having to leave their vehicle in the airport parking lot for a week. Beth-Anne agreed it was a good idea, and apparently Jordy had seconded her opinion. Brett, on the other hand, hadn't seemed quite as impressed with the plan as his coach and tutor were, but Nikolai suspected that had more to do with Brett not wanting to show any weakness in front of Nikolai than with any lingering animosity between the two of them.

In fact, Brett had offered him such a sincere apology for his outburst at the rink a few weeks back, Nikolai is inclined to believe there had never really been any animosity at all. He'd had to remind himself that Brett is only fourteen, and even the simplest upsets can seem enormous and insurmountable at that age. They'd both been trying to process some big emotions, and the combination of Brett's anger and frustration and Nikolai's pain and anxiety had the inevitability of disaster written all over it.

Brett understood that too, in hindsight. He said he'd been so focused on himself and his own feelings, he hadn't even considered Nikolai's, and he said he genuinely felt bad for hurting him.

Nikolai could forgive that. After all, Brett is still learning and growing, and no one is perfect anyway. He'd praised Brett for recognizing what went wrong and for acknowledging it. That had earned him a tentative smile from the teenager, and a promise that he'd try to do better in the future.

"I"m sure you will," Nikolai had told him. "I'll do better too. We'll try to do like Beth-Anne says; respond, not react. Okay?"

"Okay," Brett had agreed, and the two of them shook hands.

The handshake had been unexpected from Nikolai's point of view, and he'd guessed it was something Brett had seen his parents do with their business associates. Still, it felt significant to Nikolai, like he and Brett were making a pact of mutual support and respect. They might never become close, but at least they'd agreed that they shouldn't be adversaries, and Nikolai is more than satisfied with that.

Today, he has a feeling their agreement is about to meet its first test.

They took Beth-Anne's truck to the airport, and Beth-Anne drove on the way there. It's the sort of truck that has a small backseat in the cab, so there was adequate room for all four of them, but Nikolai hadn't considered that he and Brett would be the ones sitting in the back. Jordy is easily 190 centimetres, if not taller, and they decided that he should sit up front with Beth-Anne so he could adjust the passenger seat and have some legroom.

Brett's acquiescence was clearly grudging, and he spent most of the ride alternating between staring out the window and shooting annoyed looks at Nikolai. Nikolai didn't take it personally. When he was Brett's age and travelling to a competition, he's sure he would've preferred to sit next to Grandpa or Allison on a long drive rather than beside some guy he only tolerated.

When they got to the airport, Nikolai helped Beth-Anne carry her stuff even though she insisted she could do it by herself. Brett and Jordy each had a backpack, and Brett had his skate carrier, but it seemed they were sharing a suitcase. The thing Jordy heaved out of the back of the truck was huge, but he didn't appear to have any difficulty with it. The last item was a red garment bag that Nikolai knew would have Brett's costumes in it. Jordy handed that to Brett and took charge of the gigantic suitcase himself, and then the four of them trooped into the airport together.

At such an early hour, there wasn't much of a lineup yet and check-in was relatively easy. Nikolai waited for them. He decided he'd go with them as far as he was permitted, which was all the way to security. That's where they are now.

Standing in the large, open space near the doors to the security area, Brett looks terrified. There's no trace of his typical bravado. He seems far younger than his fourteen years, and he's clinging to Jordy like his life depends on not letting go.

The image of Brett as a frightened child is made even more pronounced by Jordy's physical size. The top of Brett's head only comes up to his broad chest, and his arms are nearly twice as big around as Brett's.

Regardless of Jordy's imposing stature, however, Nikolai is certain there isn't a mean bone in the man's body. He gives the impression of being a natural-born caregiver, and Nikolai can't help admiring his patience with Brett's behaviour.

But, just because Jordy doesn't seem frustrated or irritated, this doesn't necessarily mean he's tolerant of Brett's nonsense. When Nikolai starts to talk to Brett, to wish him luck, the teenager turns away from him and hides his face against Jordy's chest. Jordy's immediate response is to admonish him.

The big man leans in to speak quietly to the boy, the beads at the ends of his braids clicking together gently as he bends his head forward. "Brett, that's not how we behave. Your friend is speaking to you."

"Don't wanna talk to him," Brett mumbles into the fabric of Jordy's coat.

"Don't be rude, please," Jordy says. "There are lots of things we don't want to do in life, but we need to do them because it's the right thing to do."

"I just wanna go," Brett says. "Hanging around here is stressing me out."

"We'll go through security in a minute, Brett," Beth-Anne interjects. "Just let Nikolai say what he wanted to tell you."

"All I wanted was to say good luck," Nikolai says. "You're going to do great, Brett. It's always stressful beforehand, but you've been looking awesome in practice and you know what you're doing, so just have fun with it and the rest will fall right into place."

Brett finally looks up at that. "You actually think I'm worried about the competition?"

Caught off-guard, Nikolai stammers, “You're... not?"

"It's not the competition. It's the flying," Jordy explains. "He doesn't like it, and we can't give him anything to help with the airsickness because... y'know. Drug tests."

"Sorry." Nikolai says. "Yeah, I do know, actually."

"Oh, that's right," Brett ventures, finally letting go of Jordy and standing up straight. "Beth-Anne said you don't like flying either."

"That'd be an understatement." Nikolai says. "I'd call it a win if I made it through an entire flight without throwing up."

Brett wrinkles his nose. "Eww... At least I've never done that."

"Consider yourself lucky. Throwing up and crying on an airplane full of strangers is definitely not a good look, and nobody wants to be next to the guy puking on the plane."

"Gross," Brett says, but then he flashes a quick, cheeky grin. "So, I guess that means I handle flying better than you do."

Nikolai returns the grin. "Gold medal to you for that. And I meant what I said. Have fun, and I hope you kick ass over there. It's your last season at Junior level, so make it one nobody forgets."

“Don’t worry. I will. When I debut in Senior division next season, everybody’s already gonna know my name,” Brett declares. “Too bad you’re not gonna be competing. It’d be fun to challenge you.”

“It’s lucky for you I’m not competing. I’d polish the ice so thoroughly with your scrawny butt, everybody'd call you Zamboni afterwards.”

“You would not.”

“You don’t think? When my leg gets better, maybe we should find out.”

Brett turns to fully face him. He meets his gaze and holds it, and Nikolai sees the unmistakable gleam in his eyes of a true competitor who can't resist any challenge, no matter how big or small. “Is that an invitation to a competition? ‘Cause if it is, you’re on."

"Absolutely," Nikolai says. "Beth-Anne can be the judge."

"There’ll be plenty of people around the rink who can be judges for us, but I think we probably won’t need much help figuring out the winner.”

"You're right." Nikolai can feel his smile spreading across his face. “No question, it'll be me."

"We'll see," Brett says.

This is the point at which Beth-Anne intervenes.

"Okay, boys. That's enough." She gives each of them a stern look. "Nikolai, you should know better, and Brett..." She trails off, shaking her head. "No, you know what? Never mind. We'll discuss this when we get back."

Undeterred, Brett says, "Yeah, we can discuss how I'm gonna make him look like yesterday's news."

"Brett, weren't you in a hurry to get through security?" Beth-Anne asks. She waves in the direction of the wide glass doors. "Why don't you and Jordy go ahead? I want to talk to Nikolai for a minute, and then I'll catch up with you, all right?"

Brett looks like he might protest, but seems to think better of it when Jordy lifts their carry-on bags from the floor and passes Brett's to him. "Come along, Brett. It'll be hard to win anything in Seoul if you're not on the plane when it leaves."

They head off toward the security area, and Brett walks calmly beside Jordy for several steps, but then he puts his bags down and runs ahead. Once he's built up some momentum he does a neat little one and a half rotation jump that brings him back down to face in Nikolai and Beth-Anne's direction again.

He waves at Nikolai and calls out, "See you later... Zamboni!"

Nikolai loses it. He doesn't even bother attempting to stifle his laughter as he watches an exasperated Jordy gather up Brett's skate carrier and backpack and hurry after him. Brett is jogging backwards, probably so he can see Nikolai's reaction. Nikolai sticks his tongue out at him.

"Cheeky little shit," Beth-Anne says, but she's laughing too.

"I can tell you love him," Nikolai says.

"What can I say?" she responds. "Apparently, I have a thing for troublemakers."

Nikolai feigns innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Like hell you don't," she scoffs. "You're the biggest goddamned troublemaker of all, Nikolai Pavlenko." But, a second later her arms are around him and she's hugging him tight. "Thank you."

He laughs as he reciprocates the embrace. "Way to send mixed messages, coach."

"Brett's probably going to be thinking about that ridiculous challenge all day," she says. "You know how reckless that was, challenging him like that? But, I'd much rather have him obsessing about how he's going to come up with a way to beat you than for him to dwell on how much he hates flying."

"So... what I'm hearing is that you think I can win the challenge?"

With her arms still around him, she swats him lightly on the back. "Fuck off! That's not what I said at all. And who says I'm even going to let either of you do it?"

"You mean... you can stop us?"

"Oh my God. I'm about to fucking disown you," she says, but no sooner than these words are out of her mouth, she's squeezing him once again. "For what it's worth though, I do think you'd win the challenge. I also think it's a fucking stupid idea, but it if motivates Brett and gives you something to look forward to, then I guess I'll agree to it."

"And you'll help me get ready for it?"

"How about I train the two of you together?" she says. "You can see up close how I work with someone at Brett's skill level, and I think he'll learn a lot from watching you. But," she adds, her tone suddenly no-nonsense. "All this is conditional, do you understand? If the doctor and the sports therapist fully clear you, we'll do it, but if they say no spins and no jumping..."

"I hope they don't say that."

"Do everything they tell you and keep your fingers crossed, and maybe they won't."

"You know what I want? I want to be able to do everything on the ice that I could do before. I wouldn't be able to keep up with a competitive training schedule, obviously, but... I want to jump again."

"I know you do," she says quietly.

"And I really want to do this challenge with Brett if I can, even if it is kind of stupid."

"I know that too." She's trembling a little, and he wonders what she's thinking. They stand together silently until she composes herself and lowers her arms at last. She takes a step back. "Okay, I'd better go. I'll give you a call when we get there."

"Okay," he says.

"You take care of yourself while I'm gone. Do your physio exercises, and don't forget about your appointment at the sports medicine clinic. Hang up your wet towels, and eat real meals, not just peanut butter toast all the time, and—"

'Beth-Anne, I'll be fine," he says. "If I need anything, I know who to call, and I promise I'll do all my exercises and go to my doctor's appointment and eat lots of protein. It'll be okay."

"Sorry. It's just... I'm not a hundred percent okay with leaving you. Plus, it's strange, being at the airport with you but leaving you behind."

"Yeah, but you don't really want to get on a plane with me and my delicate equilibrium."

"Delicate equilibrium," she echoes. "Well, that's one way of describing it. And maybe I don't love sitting next to you on a long flight, but it's being at the destination with you that I'm going to miss."

"Me too," he says. "But, you know what? Brett's not that much older than Eden, so maybe if everything goes the way we think it should, there'll be a day in the future when we'll be travelling to the same destinations again. You never know, right?"

"If I didn't already say so, it's good to see this side of you," she says. "I was beginning to wonder where my sunshine went."

"Just stuck behind a cloud for a while, that's all."

"Fucking clouds, always messing things up."

They always disappear eventually, though." He picks up her backpack and skate bag and hands them to her. "Here, you'd better take these. Not that I'm in a hurry to part ways, but you might miss your flight if we keep trying to have a long goodbye like this."

"Right," she says as she takes her things from him. "Christ, I'm fucking awful at goodbyes. I better haul ass before this gets any worse."

"I'll see you in a week. Good luck, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That leaves it wide open, doesn’t it?”

"Go on," he says. "Brett and Jordy are waiting for you. You got this. Tell Brett I'll be watching on TV and cheering him on."

She offers him a grateful smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he says, as he watches her rush off.

The drive back to town feels long and lonely. Even with his favourite classic rock music blasting from the radio and a beautiful early morning sky overhead, he can't help feeling a little sad. He hadn't wanted to say anything to Beth-Anne since it was clear she was already worried, but being left behind feels strange to him too. Naturally, Beth-Anne has travelled without him before, with her other students and for her own personal reasons, but this was the first time they'd been at the airport together without both having a ticket for the same flight. He'd gotten through the actual experience at the airport, but now that he's on his own, he's not at all confident about it.

I'm just going to have to keep myself busy while she's gone, he tells himself. That's what Beth-Anne would tell me to do. Keep busy, so I don't dwell on stuff.

With Beth-Anne away, her group classes will be cancelled for the week, as well as the individual lessons for Eden and the two Novice level girls, Ruby and Katie. It's highly likely that Mariah will come to the rink to skate on her own, and perhaps thirteen-year-old Ruby might do the same, but Nikolai isn't allowed to work with either of them without Beth-Anne's supervision. He can watch, but that's about it, and now that he's started helping with the group classes and with Eden's and Katie's individual lessons, he's not sure he'll be content to simply watch any more.

So, if I'm not going to the rink, what am I supposed to do?

He makes a mental list of the possibilities. He'll visit his parents, of course, and he'll probably have dinner with his sister and brother-in-law at least once. There's his doctor's appointment, his daily walks on the treadmill, his and Ginger's planned bowling and pizza night, and he's positive that Grandpa wouldn't mind if he came over to hang out.

At first, this seems more than sufficient to occupy him, but he quickly realizes it's not going to fill an entire week. He pictures himself doing a lot of reading and playing a lot of video games to pass the time.

Then, he thinks about Anya. He's seen her at the arena a handful of times over the past few weeks, but they haven't spoken, and they only text each other sporadically now. This week might be a good time to meet with her and discuss their relationship. Maybe later in the week, because has to talk himself up and somehow convince himself he's brave enough to do it, and that might take a bit of time.

Ginger might be able to give me a pep talk.

He pictures Ginger's reaction if he asked her to do that, and he wants to laugh. She'd probably tell him to march in there like there's no way he could lose. "Approach it like a competition," she'd say.

Oddly, this sounds like good advice even if it's only in his imagination and not technically from his friend. Maybe he can do it, even if he's scared. He's been scared before competitions too, but he's come out on top more than he hasn't, so there must be some merit in that idea.

By the time he gets home, he feels better.

He thought it'd be weird to stay at Beth-Anne's house without her, but the moment he walks in the door it occurs to him that he thinks of it as home just as much as he does his own place. Inside, the air is warm and smells faintly of the French toast he'd made for breakfast. Their empty breakfast dishes are still on the table, and Beth-Anne's blue oversized cardigan is slung haphazardly over the back of a chair. Elvis the cat is asleep in his favourite spot atop the fridge.

Nikolai shrugs out of his coat and tugs off his sneakers. The kitchen is going to need some attention, but it can wait for an hour or two. First, he wants to write in his journal and then take a nap.

He wouldn't normally nap in the morning, but his knee hurts and he thinks the best cure would be an ibuprofen and some rest. He can sort out the mess in the kitchen after that, and then try to find something to do for the rest of the day.

In his room, he changes out of his jeans and sweater and into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and his favourite t-shirt. As he's folding his sweater and putting it back into one of his suitcases, something at the back of the closet catches his eye. It's the cardboard box he'd noticed when he first came to stay; the one with his costumes from the Four Continents in it. He'd meant to go through it and see what else was inside, but he'd been so caught up in going to the rink with Beth-Anne, learning to cook and do his own laundry, doing physio, and working on his new blog that it hadn't crossed his mind.

Well, no time like the present, I guess.

He really is curious, now that he thinks about it. Slipping quickly into the room's adjoining bathroom, he downs two ibuprofen tablets with lukewarm water, and then returns to haul the box out of the closet. He places it on the bed and climbs up after it.

With a pillow tucked under his sore knee and another behind his back, and the cardboard box beside him, he takes a deep breath before grasping the flaps of the box and pulling them open.

#writing #the art of redemption #theartofredemption #nikolai pavlenko #beth-anne jones #brett eriksson #jordan remington-grey #stargazersims

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