Miracles Exist

Promises

"You're here early."

I grunted as I lifted my legs, the weight tied to the bar causing my legs to shake. It was quite the struggle since I would use more strength on my right leg which doesn't help my left at all. I slowly lowered my legs, my focus turning in the direction of the voice. My eyes landed on OC who sported some sweats and a sweatshirt to match.

"I could say the same thing about you," I retorted with a slight smile. "You're not supposed to be in," I looked at my watch. "Until 7:00. That's two hours from now." 

He shrugged and walked over to the empty corner of the gym where we usually stretch. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd get warmed up before Herb and the team got here. I heard it was gonna be a brutal training day." He started stretching as I began another rep of fifteen.

"When is it not brutal? I thought you would've gotten used to it by now," I smirked as he sent me a sharp look.

"Some days are better than others, I'll admit. I'm just nervous about the games starting. The U.S. is already hesitant about a bunch of college students leading the Olympics hockey team," He sighed as he finished a part of his warm-up.

"Focus on yourself before you focus on the rest who have no idea the training you and the boys are undergoing. They don't know a thing, they're just talking shit to talk," I huffed as I raised my legs once again, the burning feeling in my thighs fueling my motivation with a side of anger.

OC stared at me silently, a troubled expression resting on his face. I glanced at him once I finished my rep, grabbing my small towel to wipe the sweat off of my face. He was still staring at me when I faced him.

"Are you okay, Jack?" I asked, massaging my thighs and knees before standing up and walking toward the dumbbells. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair as he made his way to the treadmill.

"I'm fine, I think. This isn't Boston anymore, that's for sure. This is bigger than anything I've ever done. It's global and all eyes are gonna be on us. It's nerve-wracking." He started up the treadmill before working himself up to a steady-paced jog. "And I'm not complaining, not at all. This has been my dream for so long but I don't want to fuck it up, you know?"

I nodded as I watched him, beginning my lunges as I held the dumbbell close to my chest. "It's okay to be nervous—you're human. It's a natural response from the human mind when facing something new and challenging." I met his gaze with a small smile. "You're giving it your all and that's more than enough. The U.S. expects so much when they don't have to endure the vigorous training you guys are going through. Anyone can talk shit through the screen, the papers, and the radio. But they wouldn't be talking shit if they were the ones on the ice. So straighten up, Jack, you made it to the Olympics team. You're here, and soon? You'll be at the Winter Olympics."

I dropped the dumbbell on the floor, hiding my pants as I snatched my water bottle and almost chugged the entire thing. My entire face was red and hot from the lunges, the mere exercise testing my knee to another level.

OC was quiet as he jogged, never diverting his eyes from my direction. The man has talent I tell you, if I did that I would trip and fall face-first on the belt. Happened before, but never again.

"Does it ever bother you?" I paused at his question, my body feeling a cold chill at the thought of what he possibly meant by it. I turned to look at him in confusion, my eyebrows furrowed to match my expression. "The fact that you can't compete with us," He clarified in a huff, sweat trickling down his face. "Does it ever bother you?"

How do you even respond to that? How do you tell the truth without entirely saying the truth? It's hard, but it's so obvious how I feel that it barely needs an explanation. I'm just gonna stay quiet until he forgets. Will that work? Probably not. Will I still do it? Absolutely I will.