I ALWAYS THOUGHT that skating would be the most complicated commitment in my life.
I was wrong.
“Do you think the attitude comes with the dick or it’s something they develop over time?” Sabrina asks, shoving a spoonful of Ben and Jerry’s into her waiting mouth. Casting her eyes over to the dress we’re supposed to be altering, she frowns and shovels in another heaped spoonful. “Men are the worst.”
Sabrina is playing Angelica Schuyler in the spring production of Hamilton, and today the guy playing Marquis De Lafayette got himself on her bad side. She didn’t want to hang around the set having her dress altered, so she brought it home, knowing that I’ve been fixing and adjusting skating outfits since I was a kid.
We haven’t done anything to the dress yet, but we have watched three episodes of Criminal Minds. I have a planner full of things to do but I just can’t face it, and I’m too drained to care about the fact I don’t care.
I can’t work out if I’m evolving or devolving.
“I think it comes with age. I don’t remember being this irritated ten years ago,” I grumble from behind my apple. “Wanna run away with me?”
“Obviously. We can go to Algeria and be treated like royalty. I’ll google if Issad Rebrab has any single grandsons,” she says with a totally serious face, reaching for her phone.
Being at the apartment for the last three nights has been a welcome break from going round in circles with Nathan, but I also miss him. It’s such a difficult situation, because I know that he would never do anything intentionally to hurt me, but by not listening to what I’m saying, he’s hurting me.
Nathan is a protector and a fixer. It’s a fundamental part of who he is as a person and I love that quality in him. I love even more that he prides himself on it, and on being good to those around him. When we first argued and I wanted to avoid him, he didn’t let me. After Robbie’s party, when I was embarrassed about what he did to me, he purposely found me to check if I was okay.
He tried to protect Russ when it came to the truth about the rink, he took the blame for the Aaron thing to protect his team, even though it was a ridiculous decision. He challenged me on something as difficult as disordered eating because my health was more important to him than my feelings. Time and time again, Nate has shown me and everyone around him what he brings to the table.
This is why I know that, as much as he loves me, this Aaron thing goes far beyond him not trusting Aaron. This is about his self-esteem and his spot in my life as the person I need.
What I can’t seem to get him to listen to is Aaron isn’t replacing him. Nobody could replace him, but the more time I spend with Aaron, the more chances there are that Aaron is going to be there when I need someone, and that’s the crux of Nathan’s issue.
He’s told me himself that there is a selfish and jealous part of him that doesn’t want to share me with Aaron, and while ordinarily, this would be a red flag, when we talked it out and broke it down, it feels like it’s because Nate holds me in such high regard, he doesn’t think Aaron deserves me.
Nathan doesn’t know how to process what he’s feeling because he hasn’t had hundreds of hours of therapy like I have, so I’m not mad at him for not knowing how to put his thoughts into words. But he does know how to listen, and he isn’t doing that right now.
To him, and the rest of the guys, Aaron is a villain. He’s the bad guy of the story, the unpredictable nightmare coming to ruin everything. When in reality, Aaron is a very emotionally immature and misguided man. I’ve said so many times that hurt people, hurt people and it’s absolutely true. He lies and manipulates people because it’s all he knows.
I’ve spent our entire college life so far justifying Aaron’s bad behavior, for no reason other than easiness and truly hoping that deep down he’s a good person. That doesn’t make me naïve; it means I’ve looked at the good parts he’s shown me and hoped that it was the real version of him. But I’ve ignored red flag after red flag and that was foolish of me because I’ve ended up hurt as a result. Right now, my eyes are wide open, and I look at our relationship as a means to an end.
We are skaters who need a partner to skate.
I don’t need or want his opinion or approval. I haven’t mysteriously forgotten that his actions drove the most laid back and calm man I know to punch him in the face. I haven’t forgotten how deeply his words cut me, and even though those cuts may have healed on the surface, they’re going to be privately healing in therapy for who knows how long.
I shouldn’t have to scream that I’m not naïve or being manipulated for Nathan to trust my judgment. I shouldn’t have to beg him to understand that there is a difference between friendship and partnership.
And if Aaron has to play the villain in this scenario, Nathan is your textbook hero, and yeah, he can keep that title because he is the hero of my story. But this is one of those gritty fantasy stories, this isn’t a fairy tale. I’m not the princess; I’ve never been the princess, but there’s no denying he’s built me up over the time we’ve been together, and he’s given me the courage to deal with something like this.
I think I want Nate to be proud of me. He tackles issues head-on, and that’s what I’m trying to do, which is why since I decided to tackle Aaron, I’ve been super surprised it’s led to arguments with Nathan. And I say tackle because therapy with Aaron is no easy thing. It’s exhausting and it’s practically corrosive. Dr. Robeska is fair, though. She doesn’t take any of his bullshit or his fake pouty lips as he tries to force some tears out.
She puts him in his place, which I enjoy immensely. Like when he repeated what he said in Brady’s intervention about needing me and me not being there, her first question was how many times did he try to contact me to support him. Quickly followed by how many times did we make plans where I blew him off. Of course, the answer was zero, which led her into a segment on weaponizing our emotions.
Since I’ve been back at the apartment, I feel like Aaron watches every morsel of food I put in my mouth. I still believe him when he says he didn’t purposely mess up my plan, and Nate has practically begged me to bring it up in therapy with Robeska.
Nate wants to be proven right, but he’s also the same man who reminds me that recovery isn’t about winning. It’s about learning and forgiving yourself, about forgetting bad habits, and trusting the process. It isn’t linear, is what he’s said so many times, and I can’t ignore the irony that the same could be said for this situation with Aaron.
I’ve found myself sending multiple food pictures a day to Nate, just looking for reassurance that I didn’t colossally fuck up more than anything. Aaron doesn’t say anything about my new meals ever, and when I look directly at him, he’s looking at his own plate. Maybe it’s in my head. Maybe he’s gaslighting me. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Just another day in Maple Hills filled with too many fucking questions.
“I don’t want to live here next year,” I blurt out, catching Sabrina off guard. She puts her ice cream down on the coffee table and twists to face me, giving me her full attention. “I don’t want to live in the hockey house, because I don’t think that’s fair on Henry and Russ, but I don’t want to live here. I understand if you want to stay, though. I can’t afford anything nearly as nice as Maple Tower.”
She reaches for her phone, taps a few times, and brings it to her ear. I catch Baba, so I know she’s called her dad, but then she flies off in rapid Arabic, and all I can do is watch her in awe. After a couple of minutes, she hangs up and throws her phone back down. “Baba is going to find us somewhere to live.”
“Just like that?” I ask in disbelief.
She shrugs. “He never liked me living with a boy anyway. He’ll probably make one of my brothers fly in to check out places, so that’ll be fun,” she says sarcastically. “We can have a fresh start too. You deserve it.”
“Thanks, Brinny.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” She laughs, picking her ice cream back up. “If he sends Farid, fuck knows where we’ll end up living.”
AARON GRUNTS as I land back in the cradle of his arms.
“Stop the music!” I shout in the direction of Brady, putting some distance between me and Aaron so I don’t kick him in the head.
“What’s wrong with you now?” He groans, following me to the edge of the rink.
“You! You’re what’s wrong with me, Aaron! How the hell am I supposed to concentrate when you’re huffing and grunting every time you have to touch me!”
The music finally cuts off and Brady looks extra unimpressed, but I don’t care. I just don’t care anymore about playing nice. I refuse to take shit from this obnoxious jackass for another second.
“What’re you two arguing about now?” Brady huffs, raking a hand through her hair.
Aaron shrugs his shoulders and throws me the most incredulous look. “I don’t know, Coach. Anastasia seems to have an issue. Again.”
Heat is prickling at the back of my neck as I struggle to stop my temper from flaring. I’ve always associated my impatience and temper with who I am as a skater. I’ve always put it down to my competitiveness—the overwhelming need to be the best—but it clearly isn’t. I didn’t once feel this surge of rage when I was practicing with Nate. Even when we fell down or we bumped heads for the tenth time, I took it all in my stride and we laughed it off.
I’ve been resting my hands on my hips in a bid to not punch him in the throat, but the skin under my fingertips is becoming sore from squeezing so hard. I know what this is about and that’s probably why I’m so upset.
“Are you struggling to lift me? Is that what the noises are about? Do you need to work out more?” I seethe.
“What? No,” he splutters, the pink of his cheeks spreading quickly to the tips of his ears, but then his expression hardens. “Give me a fucking break, Stas. You can’t put on weight and not expect me to need a little time to adjust.”
There it is.
“You bench over one hundred pounds more than what I weigh in the gym with ease. I watched you do it this morning! You added more freaking weight! I’ve gained twelve pounds of muscle, that’s it! What do you need to adjust to?”
“I need to adjust to your fucking attitude, for one.”
“You’re such a dick.”
“I can’t practice with you when you’re like this. I’m going home, we’ve got to perfect this and you’re wasting my time.”
“Bye, then!”
“Children, please!” Brady snaps.
I don’t hear whatever else she says because I skate off into the middle of the rink, shaking off the rage. If he wants to put being petty over being prepared, I’m not going to stand in his way.
