Cade

 “Ashely, honey, you aren’t listening to me,” I sighed and wiped a hand down my face.

“I am listening,” Ashley whined and that sound grated every nerve ending I had. I hated whiners. Getting frustrated was okay, taking a break and asking questions were things I preferred, and even quitting for the day was okay but whining was never something I had tolerated. 

“Actually you aren’t listening,” I told her, failing to keep my voice gentle. “Because if you were listening you would be applying the corrections I’m giving you instead of falling five times in a row. Your competition is in 5 days and this trick is in the routine because you can do it and now suddenly you can’t so you either need to come over here and tell me what’s going on so I can fix it or you need to get off my mat and I’ll find something else to put into your routine.”

She hesitated for a second before sitting in front of my chair and starting to stretch.

“So what’s the problem,” I asked, having a bit more patience now that she had made a good decision. 

“I don’t want you to be mad at me,” she started and that was never a good sign. 

Ashley was only 14 and had been with me for only a few months but she had seen my temper on more than one occasion. I sighed and looked down at her before nodding.

“I’ll try my best to not be upset. What’s going on?”

“Me and my friends went to a trampoline park yesterday for a birthday party and I fell on my ankle weirdly.” I took a deep breath and willed myself to not start yelling.

“Does it hurt?”

“Only on take-offs and landings,” she said all too quickly. “I can still walk on it without it hurting. I’ll be fine for the competition!” I wordlessly held out my hand to her and she lifted the foot with a sigh.

I watched her face closely as I flexed and pointed the ankle, looking for any ounce of pain. Thankfully there was none and there was only slight discomfort when I began rolling it.

“Why are you here? What’s my number one rule?”

“No gym while you’re hurt,” she sighed before looking up to the parent’s room. I didn’t have to look to know that her mother was watching us closely even if she couldn’t hear the conversation we were having. “I told my mom that you wouldn’t want me here today but she didn’t want me to waste time with only a few days left of practice.”

“Next time that you’re hurt and your mom makes you come anyway, you tell me the second you walk in alright? I’m not going to let you do more damage to your body just because your mom doesn’t care.” She nods and I let go of her foot. “Do your cooldown stretches, I’m going to go talk with your mom.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she said barely above a whisper as I pushed myself off the chair with far more effort than it should have required. 

“Have you learned from it?” She nodded. “Then that’s all that matters. When you get home, ice it and keep a compression band on it. Come back in 4 days for one last run-through before the competition and if it still hurts then I’ll pull you out. Sound good?”

“Thank you, Coach Cade,” she said with a small smile. I waved her off and set my eyes to the parent’s room. Ashley’s mom was still watching me and I didn’t bother hiding my glare as I started towards the steps. 

God, why did I put steps in here? 

“Is something wrong with Ashley,” her mom asked the second I opened the door.

“She said she hurt her ankle yesterday at some birthday party,” I said with a glare, hating her even more now that she made me climb those stairs over something she knew better about. “Mind telling me why she’s at practice today?”

“She has a competition in 5 days,” the woman said with a scoff like I didn’t already know that. “She needs all the practice she can get.”

“Not when she’s hurt. Training while injured usually leads to worse injuries.”

“Not everyone is you,” she said simply, looking down at the ankle I was favoring. “She’s still young. She’ll heal fast. I know you got hurt and that’s why you care so much but you were, what? 27 when you got hurt? No one has any business doing this sport at that age anyway. There’s no wonder why you got hurt but Ashley is fine. You need to stop babying her.”

“Age has nothing to do with it,” I seethed. “I got hurt because I pushed myself too hard, not because I was too old. Anyone can push themself too hard at any age and age does not affect the seriousness of a possible injury. What if she had broken her ankle because you wouldn’t let her rest? Forget the next competition, she would be out for at least the rest of the season, and if she even wanted to come back after that, most of the next season would be because she would have to have time to relearn all of her competition-worthy skills. Is that what you want? Because I can go back down there right now and snap her ankle myself just to save us time.”

“Are you threatening my child with bodily harm,” she screeched.

“No, but you are. If you try to pull something like this again I will drop Ashley as a student and warn every gym in the area of the kind of parent you are. She’ll be lucky to find a half-decent gym in the state that will take her after that.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Yet, I am so I’ll tell you what’s going to happen now. You are going to take your daughter home, you are going to make sure she only leaves her bed for food and bathroom breaks, and then in 4 days you are going to bring her back for one last practice before the competition and if she is still in pain she will not be competing and if I find out you made her practice anyway, I will deliver on my promise.”

Ashley’s mom scoffed as she picked up her purse and stormed out of the room, yelling for her daughter to meet her in the car when she was done and because I couldn’t help it I called out to her. 

“I hope you have a great rest of your day Brittney!”

“Fuck you,” was the only answer I got.

“Well that was dramatic,” Asher Sutton said as I limped my way down the stairs. A small smile was on his face and I wanted to punch it off but Zane was already running up to me.

“That lady said a bad word,” he said with wide eyes. “You have to make her use the swear jar.”

“If we had a swear jar then I would lose far too much money,” I told him honestly. “You remember your stretches?” He nodded and I motioned to the mat. “Then go ahead and get started.”

“So I see I’m not the only parent that makes your life more difficult,” Asher teased and I glared at him. “Seems like it’s been an exciting day already.”

“You’re early.” He was still wearing an expensive-looking suit that made me feel like I was wearing a trash bag.

“I wanted to avoid paying another late fee,” he said with a shrug. “What’s this I hear about a competition in a few days?”

“We have competitions at least once a month, sometimes more if I can find ones that are worth a damn.”

“Zane won’t be in this one though, right?”

“Zane won’t be in the next several,” I agreed and he sighed in relief. “I want him doing layouts before he even thinks about competing or he will just end up getting sad about never placing.”

“Well, we don’t want that do we,” Asher smiled before squeezing past me and heading up to the parent’s room. 

I turned to look at Zane, who was thankfully doing what I told him.

“Alright Zane, let’s get started!”