Fresh off the Ice

Hidden Distractions

"Here's your water bottle." Coach hands me my water as I stand in my skate in skate guards with music blaring in my ears. "Chesa, remember when we go out into the arena to get onto the ice. This isn't play time. Head up and straight ahead, no talking to others. Attitude is everything, make them fear you."

I look at my coach to acknowledge what he said. I am standing ready for my official practice. This is no ordinary practice. No, this is all about presentation and making a good impression. The desicions for nationals and medal can sometimes be made from the practices. The judges watch you and determine what you can do and if you do it well enough. The competitors grid against each other each wanting to be the best and make the other competitors feel that they are the best. In this sport, the mental aspect is as or even more important than the physical. Sure we can all land a triple jump on a good day in our own rink but in a rink full of expectation and pressure? Only the top mentally strong succeed.

I push all of those thoughts out of my head as I enter the arena having a goal set in front of me. My face remains neutral and replaces the nervous thoughts wanting to come through with confidence in myself. Me and five other girls dressed in black tights and jackets stand at the barrier door ready for attack. As soon as I get onto that ice I'm off with five other girls right on my tale. I get down to business going through all my jumps putting in everything I've learned. We work like clockwork all us girls on the ice weaving in and out, sweeping right by each other at alarming speeds but we all had something to accomplish.

I'm tired and sweaty at the end of my practice but I don't show it. I get off the ice and my coach walks up to me and gives me a pat on the back, "Good session, Chesa."

I almost smile at his compliment but of course, there is more, "See I knew if I took you away from all those distractions you would thrive. You should have listened to me in the first place. Don't mess it up and you got a chance not only at nationals but at medaling."

I want to frown out his comment but I just keep my face neutral. How can he think this is all him? If he thinks I have only a chance at medaling now does that mean he didn't think I could do it before? All these doubts filled my mind. I needed to get out of here.

...

My phone buzzes as open up the door to our hotel room. I look down at my phone as I walk in. A smile creeps across my face as I see a text, 'Calculous was way more interesting today. But let's just say that is not going to be A+ material homework.'

I dump my stuff on the bed and quickly type to respond, 'Oh no. Kace the nerd not getting an A+? What shall we do?'

"Chesa, come here." I hear my mom call. I get up to go to the other room but my pace slows as my phone dings.

Kace: 'I guess I'll have to take you up on that offer of coming to Calculous with me. Might be less distracting :P'

I enter the room my parents are in as I type, 'Really? Less distracting'

My dad says something but I respond with, "hmmm" as I see Kace typed back, 'Ya maybe not ;)'

I smile. I quickly type, 'I thou-'

Suddenly my phone is ripped from my hands! I look up in alarm to see my father standing with my precious phone in his hands, my only communication to Kace.

"Chesa! That's the third time I've called your name." My dad says in an angry voice, "Now Coach called and said you had a good practice today and you had no distractions. We are going to keep it that way."

"But dad my phone isn't a distraction. It helps me stay focused." I plea.

My dad looks at my phone, "So this.. this boy helps you focus on gold? I don't think so Chesa. This boy is nothing. Just some helping hand at the rink according to your coach. I'll keep this for the time being while you focus on tomorrow."

He turns away and I was mad now.

"All you care about is me winning!" I yell at him. My mom gasps.

He turns around, "Well yes it would be nice to have a champion daughter for once! Not some idiot teenager who is in love with every handsome beggar she meets!"

"Richard!" my mom states.

He turns and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him, my mom rushing after him.

Tears start to pour out of my eyes as my dad's words sink in. They keep repeating in my head over and over. I rush to my room and collapse in my bed. I cry myself to sleep that night not having anything to distract me from my father's harsh words and my coach's doubt in me. Not even Kace can save me this time.