Page 50 of The Cutting Edge
LOGAN:
I really wanted to. Plus, I was hoping that if you had more fun in the hospital, you might forget about how much you hate me.
My heart starts pounding faster, and I know this is one of those moments where I could slam the door closed, or leave it open a bit.
ME:
I don’t hate you.
LOGAN:
No?
ME:
No.
LOGAN:
That feels like a good place to start.
I'm not quite sure how I feel about that. On one hand, Logan’s puck to my head has put my chances at winning Nationals, let alone going back to the Olympics, In jeopardy.
I am at my core a happy, forgiving person. But the stakes are so high here that I don't know that I could bear the disappointment or ever get over my anger if it turns out that this concussion brings about the end of my skating career.
I'm not ready for it to end. I feel like I have so much more in front of me, so much more to do.
Yes, it's more challenging to train when I'm supporting myself. I'm covering my own training expenses, but I’ve figured out a way to make it work. If this… accident… is what ultimately ends my career as a figure skater, I'll be devastated.
So even though there's a big part of me that wants to forgive Logan, or at least not hold him responsible, there's another part of me that knows if I can't recover from this mess, there's absolutely no chance for Logan and me.
And I don't see the point of letting this go any further before I know for sure whether it's the end of my career or not.
I also admit that I feel somewhat guilty for the way Logan has been playing. I know as well as anyone what a significant impact your mental state can have on your skating. Before we met, Logan told me that he'd been in a slump for several weeks. Then, we started hanging out, he started playing better, and he had what he called the best game of his NHL career.
But once I found out I had to stay in the hospital longer and told him I didn't want to see him anymore, he started playing really poorly. The Slashers have lost two games in the playoffs, and with him and their head coach now out of the game, things are not looking good for tonight's game either.
Is that my fault? No, I didn't ask for any of this. Is it affecting Logan's playing anyway? Maybe. And even though I'm pissed at him, I've been competing long enough not to want to negatively impact anyone’s performance. It’s happened to me with devastating consequences, and I would never ever do that to someone else.
I feel like a jerk all around.
And somehow, when the Slashers lose their third playoff game in a row tonight (3-1), I feel even worse.
Chapter twenty
Coco
It’sprettyhardtostay mad at somebody when they send you when they insist on sending you gifts every three hours.
Especially when they seem so heartfelt.
Around 9:30 this morning, there’s a knock on my hospital room door, and an older gentleman wearing a Slashers golf shirt, black pants, and a silvery buzz cut pokes his head inside the doorway.
“Pardon the interruption,” he says with a raspy voice that weirdly reminds me of the godfather inWhile You Were Sleeping. “May I speak with you for a few moments?“
He averts his gaze but does not look directly at me, as though he is simultaneously trying to get my attention without invading my privacy.
“Sure. What is this about?” I ask. He steps inside my door and stands at the end of my bed.
