Cade’s POV

“Again,” Coach Mark said from the sideline. I breathed in deeply before nodding, shaking out my arms slightly as I got ready to start over.

My session had lasted two hours already, seeping into the third hour by now, and even though my arms shook and my knees threatened the buckle, I couldn’t deny that there was nowhere else I would rather be than on the mat. 

Time after time, I ran. My feet left the ground and my hands replaced them before I was sailing through the air, twisting and turning, using every muscle in my body to control and land the trick perfectly. Every rebound was better than the last and a well of new energy pulled from deep within me every time I landed.

“Again,” the coach demanded so I did. 

Four hours in total, I ran and didn’t stop.

I could feel my mother’s stare in the back of my head as I lowered myself to the floor for my cooldown stretches. My father stood beside her, his face matching her as he came to stand on the edge of the mat.

“Why are you stopping,” he asked. His voice was rarely gentle and this time was not an exception. He wasn’t a mean man but he did push me to always do my best in everything I tried and it was something I appreciated. It helped keep me focused on days I wanted to be lazy. 

“It’s been four hours,” I told him, keeping my voice calm as I continued my cool down. “The gym is closing soon anyway and I’m getting a bit tired.”

“So you don’t want to do this anymore then,” he asked with a glare.

“I do, but I think I need to stop for the day. I worked hard and now it’s time for a rest. I can come back tomorrow but I do have homework I need to finish up before school tomorrow.”

“There’s a competition this weekend,” he said as if I didn’t already know that. As if he hadn’t reminded me of this at least once every day this week.

“I know.”

“So you need all the practice time you can get. Do you want to be stuck in second place again?”

“No, but school comes first right?”

“School won’t matter if you’re a professional athlete. You shouldn’t be splitting your focus on something that doesn’t matter. You either do gym or you put all of your focus in school. There is no in-between.”

“I chose gym,” I said the second his words registered in my head.

“Then get back out there,” he said jerking his chin to the center of the mat.

I didn’t bother fighting him on this. I simply stood up and began my run again.

“What is he doing,” Mark asked in a low whisper as he stood beside my parents. I knew he was whispering to keep out of another fight between them. I also knew how this was going to end and tried to block them out as I ran.

“Practicing,” my mother answered. “He wants to be prepared for the competition.”

“He is more than ready for it,” Mark all but hissed at her. “He needs to go home. It’s been four hours. I refuse to let him push himself for any longer. We have a two hour mat limit and I have already waved that one too many times for you people but I won’t let it continue. Get out before I drop him as a student.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Father scoffed. “He’s going to the Olympics one day! Do you really want to be the coach that he tells everyone about who kicked him out? That reputation will follow you around for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t care want reputation follows me,” Mark spat. “I care that Cade is going to get himself hurt if he doesn’t take breaks. His ankle is already wrapped up and he has to tape up every time he gets on the mat. If you keep pushing him, he’ll be past his limit for competition and won’t place. Get out.”

I couldn’t help but frown as I stared down at the KT tape that was slowly peeling away from my skin, the sweat pouring down my body forcing the adhesive to melt away. Even though they were barely loose, my shins protested in pain at the simple act of standing.

Part of me wanted to defend myself but I knew better than to get in the middle of them again.

“We’re leaving,” my father called over his shoulder as he moved to the door. I hesitated.

I knew what was waiting for me if I didn’t follow my parents immediately and I’m not sure I wanted to deal with the lecture of disrespecting them in person again. But I also knew that four hours of gymnastics without stretches was going to hurt like an absolute bitch tomorrow.

“You stay right where you’re at,” Mark said with a light glare when I went to step off the mat. “Stretch. You and I need to have a little talk.” Dread pulled in my stomach as I sat down on the mat. “You know that what you’re doing isn’t okay, right?”

“I know it’s probably not the best,” I shrugged, stretching my legs straight in front of me and touching my toes.

“It’s not even the realm of okay,” Mark sighed. “I know you like this sport and I know you want to go pro one day, but if you don’t start taking care of yourself, you’ll never see those days. Your body can and will give out on you at this rate.”

“I know,” I said again, shame heating my cheeks.

“Then why are you still doing it?”

“My dad works hard to afford these classes and he wants me to take them seriously. And you know how mom is. She wants to see me do all these cool things that no one else can do.”

“If it weren't for your parents, would you have stayed this late?”

“No,” I admitted, only because this was coach. If it had been any teacher at school or a friend’s parent, I would have denied it but the coach has been with me every day for the past two years after we left my old gym for someone more qualified to get me to the Olympics.

It had started out better than it was now. We kept the 2-hour rule, always cool down after, and most certainly never got into fights but that had changed a few months ago. I hadn’t placed at all in a competition that my dad took off work to see and he had been less than pleased by it. I had felt bad for wasting his time and he told me I could make it up to him by doing better so I tried.

The next day we started pushing the rules to their limits and it was clear the coach was starting to get fed up with it.

Mark sighed as he wiped a hand down his face.

“I’m going to ask you something and I could be very wrong, and if I am, I’m sorry but I need to make sure. And I mean it’s me,” he said with a light smile. “You can tell me anything right?”

“Yeah,” I answered skeptically.

“Are your parents abusive?” The question knocked the air out of my lungs.

“No,” I all but screamed as I stood up. “Why would you ask that? They are nothing but supportive. They would never raise a hand to me!”

“Alright,” Mark soothed. “I apologize. I just wanted to make sure. I would have never forgiven myself if you told me a few years from now and I could have stopped it sooner. I’m sorry.” I continued to glare at him but nodded all the same. “Are they forcing you to do this? I know you enjoy it but sometimes, when we do things we love too much, they become less and less fun until we resent them. Is that happening?”

“I know they seem hard on me,” I sighed. “But I genuinely love doing this and wouldn’t trade it for the world. I promise I’m fine.” Mark didn’t look convinced but let me leave after making sure I was fully stretched out.

A few months later we moved to another gym after a particularly bad fight between him and my parents. I missed him to this day. Part of me will always wonder what would have happened if he remained my coach during the Olympics. If he had been there to see me push myself too hard. If I would have listened to him when he tried to pull me out of the competition.

It didn’t matter in the end though. The thing I loved more than anything was gone and I only had myself to blame.