Status: Ongoing.
Finding an Edge
ONE
FEBRUARY 17, 2010
VANCOUVER, BC.
Olivia releases a large sigh and lets herself slide down the wall next to her room in the Team Canada House. It’s nearly midnight, and she probably should have been sleeping. Her roommate here in Vancouver had just been dealt a vicious hand in life and Olivia felt awful for the bubbles of annoyance that she kept feeling. It wasn’t Joannie’s(1) fault that she was crying herself to sleep. The other figure skater had just gotten the news that her mother had passed away, and was still expected to compete in the competition.
Olivia had felt bad just sitting there listening to the other girl cry, so she’d made up some white lie about getting a snack and had left their shared space to give the girl some privacy. She knows there's no point in just sitting in the hallway, so she gets up and makes her way over to the lounge. It’s empty at the moment, most of the other Olympians have gone to bed early or are out partying. Two kinds of people, she figures.
She curses herself for not being smart enough to bring a book with her. But she hadn't even considered leaving the room until Tessa (2) had come by to sit with Joannie. The ice dancer and herself had sort of been taking shifts just to make sure the blonde was getting by.
Maybe she wouldn’t be lying about that snack, Olivia thinks as she moves over to the fridge that’s humming lighty in the lounge. She blinks, her eyes adjusting to the light that it throws into the mostly dark room. There isn’t much, unsurprisingly, since food, and more importantly healthy options, are mostly supplied by a catering staff that comes in during the day.
There is however, a loaf of plain bread. Hmm. Upon closer inspection of the cupboards she finds, surprisingly, a jar of peanut butter high up on a shelf. Perfect. Snatching it and one of the browning bananas on the counter, Olivia sets about making herself a sandwich.
She’s only a few bites in when she ends up nearly spitting in fright when the light is switched on.
“Sorry!” The voice calls. It’s a guy, about her age.
“Jesus, you scared me!” She tells him.
“Sorry,” He repeats with a wince, but she’s laughing. “I heard some noises, wasn’t sure if anyone was in here.”
“Just little ol’me.” She replies, chuckling. He’s kinda cute, in a dorky, clean cut sort of way. He’s a little stocky for the average Olympian. Everyone here in Vancouver seemed to love playing that game. Try to guess everyone’s sport just by looking at them. Olivia always thought they had an unfair advantage over her, being too tiny to be anything but a figure skater, as well as a returning Olympian from Torino in 2006.
“Peanut butter and banana sandwich?” She holds out the other half of her snack as a peace offering, somewhat joking.
His eyes move from the half of the sandwich to the opened jar of peanut butter still on the counter and back before he bursts out laughing. It’s high pitched for a guy but no less adorable.
“Don’t mind if I do,” He says, taking the other half from her hand. “Seeing as you’ve borrowed my peanut butter for it.”
Olivia raises her half of the sandwich to her mouth for another bite but freezes.
“Are you serious?” She asks him, thoroughly embarrassed. “I just thought it was left behind by catering.”
“Clearly putting it on the top shelf wasn’t enough to deter people.” He tells her, but there’s a teasing smile on his face.
She scoffs, catching on to his playful tone.
“Yeah well, there’s no name or labeling on it so, I figured it was fair game.”
“Oh did you?” He countered, coming to take a seat across from her on one of the barstools.
“Mhmm. I did. In fact, I’m even sharing with you after you startled me like that. You should be thanking me.”
He shakes his head at her, finishing off his half of the sandwich.
“For making me a sandwich with my own peanut butter?”
“Yup. 24 hour service here in Vancouver.”
This time he has to cover his mouth in order to finish chewing through his laugher.
“Apparently.” He muses once he finally swallows. Olivia lets their banter lull a little bit while she finishes up her own half. She also takes the opportunity to check out her new friend.
Dark hair that looks like it might curl if it was longer, hiding out under a Canada baseball cap. Stocky, like she noticed earlier. Actually, now that she looked a little closer-
“Holy shit.” It slips out before Olivia can stop herself. She’d totally just stolen Sidney Crosby’s peanut butter. The defending Stanley Cup champion looks up at her cuss and stares at her in confusion.
“You alright?”
“Fine! Yeah fine, sorry! I just, sort of, umm.” Olivia shakes her head at her own stupidity.
“I’m Olivia.” She finally goes with, figuring she can leave the ball in his court and let him introduce himself. If he’s so inclined.
He doesn’t seem phased however and simply offers her a hand to shake.
“Sidney.” He replies without fanfare. His hand is warm, and much bigger than hers, but that is unsurprising. Most people are large in comparison to Olivia, who clocks in at a whopping 5’2 and 125 lbs if she were to put lead in her shoes.
But it’s his eyes that really likes. They aren’t quite dark enough for the pupil to disappear in the iris, despite the dim lighting of the lounge. A warm brown, that seem unassuming and humble, regardless of the accomplishments she knows come attached to his name.
But this guy in front her had introduced himself as Sidney. Just Sidney. She sees a familiarity in that. Downplaying all those earned accomplishments in order for people to treat him at face value.
“So, what are you here for?” She asks him. Sidney raises an eyebrow, calling her on her bluff with a smirk. Olivia rolls her eyes.
“Alright, so I totally know why you’re here, and I totally figured it out like, only a minute ago.” At least he’s still laughing at her. “Can’t all have fancy sports that draw in thousands of viewers more than once every four years. Congrats, by the way.”
“Thanks,” He chuckles. “I’m assuming you mean the Cup win?”
“Of course.”
“You have me at a loss though, Olivia. I know your name, but not what you do.”
She smiles, unsurprised.
“I’m a figure skater. So, according to some, we’re supposed to hate each other.”
“Is that right?” He asks with a slight edge of sarcasm.
“I don’t know. That’s just what I’ve heard from other skaters. Personally, I’m quite fond of hockey.”
“That’s always good to hear.” He laughs, a slight twinkle in his eye from the motion of tossing his head back.
“Yeah, my dad’s a big hockey person. Think I broke his heart a little when I picked the figure skates instead of the Bauers when I was three.”
“Oh geez.”
“Yup.” Olivia tells him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Umm, sure?” He shrugs. “Depends on what it is.”
“Nothing crazy, I guess I’m just… looking for a second opinion.” She starts tentatively. Sid, seeming to recognize the switch from playful to more serious, rests his elbows on the counter and gives her his full attention.
“On?”
“If it still feels… worth it? All this time we put into the sport. Like when your winning, it feels amazing. But, do you ever have moments of doubt that leave you wondering why you do it?”
He takes a second or two to contemplate his answer.
“I think you’re always going to have moments where the frustration boils over,” He begins. “When you’re not completely loving it. Losing Game 7, media scrums, that kind of stuff. But, I genuinely couldn’t see myself doing anything else, if I’m being completely honest. So yes. It does feel worth it.”
Olivia nods in agreement. She likes that he seems to be trying to give her an honest answer, and not just a media approved one. One athlete to another.
“Thanks. I appreciate the honesty. I’m just… in a weird spot right now.”
“Are you finding it’s not worth it?” He ventures. “Skating?”
“It’s not so much that. I know I still love skating. But with my roommate-” She pauses, not sure how much she should reveal. “She’s… going through some stuff. And I guess, watching her struggle with it has me thinking about whether I might have been happier living a normal life. Not missing some of those milestones that everyone else gets to experience.”
“I get that. But I think you’ll run yourself ragged going in circles around the what ifs.”
“That’s true.” She acquiesces.
Olivia catches the time on the microwave and the wince shows on her face. “I should probably turn in. I’ve got practice tomorrow morning. Or, well, later today I guess.”
The hockey player across from her chuckles.
“It is kinda late, yeah.”
“I’ll see you around?” Olivia can’t help but ask him. She enjoyed talking with him. A rare moment that had been completely hers. She feels privileged to catch a little bit of the man himself, and not just Sidney Crosby: Hockey God.
Her question seems to pay off and she is rewarded with his smile, bright despite the late hours. She feels her stomach give a little flutter.
“Yeah, definitely.”
Olivia makes her way for the door but then stops. She impulsively pulls out her phone and turns back the hockey player.
“Did you wanna exchange numbers?” He looks a little taken aback at first, but then snaps to and pulls out his own phone.
“Yeah, sure. That’d be great.” He tells her.
She muses that her flowery, purple phone case looks ridiculous in his large hands, but keeps that observation to herself. After saving her number she hands his plain black one back to him.
“You guys have a game tomorrow, don’t you?” She asks.
He nods.
“Yeah, versus Switzerland. Game 2.”
“Well, best of luck.” She offers back with a teasing smile and is rewarded with one of his in return. “Not that you’ll need it, right?”
“Maybe not. We’ve got a pretty solid group of guys. But it’s always nice to hear, of course.”
Olivia wonders if the air is cracking from the tension between the two of them, from their eye catching staring contest. She wants to stay, to talk with him more. Ask him about winning the Cup, but more so wants to ask him about the pressures, how he deals with it all. About his family, his hometown. Wants him to let go and ramble about nothing at all. And then kiss his pretty mouth to shut him up.
But she won’t. Not tonight. It’s late. They have places to be in the morning.
“Goodnight.” She tells him instead.
“Goodnight.” He repeats.
VANCOUVER, BC.
Olivia releases a large sigh and lets herself slide down the wall next to her room in the Team Canada House. It’s nearly midnight, and she probably should have been sleeping. Her roommate here in Vancouver had just been dealt a vicious hand in life and Olivia felt awful for the bubbles of annoyance that she kept feeling. It wasn’t Joannie’s(1) fault that she was crying herself to sleep. The other figure skater had just gotten the news that her mother had passed away, and was still expected to compete in the competition.
Olivia had felt bad just sitting there listening to the other girl cry, so she’d made up some white lie about getting a snack and had left their shared space to give the girl some privacy. She knows there's no point in just sitting in the hallway, so she gets up and makes her way over to the lounge. It’s empty at the moment, most of the other Olympians have gone to bed early or are out partying. Two kinds of people, she figures.
She curses herself for not being smart enough to bring a book with her. But she hadn't even considered leaving the room until Tessa (2) had come by to sit with Joannie. The ice dancer and herself had sort of been taking shifts just to make sure the blonde was getting by.
Maybe she wouldn’t be lying about that snack, Olivia thinks as she moves over to the fridge that’s humming lighty in the lounge. She blinks, her eyes adjusting to the light that it throws into the mostly dark room. There isn’t much, unsurprisingly, since food, and more importantly healthy options, are mostly supplied by a catering staff that comes in during the day.
There is however, a loaf of plain bread. Hmm. Upon closer inspection of the cupboards she finds, surprisingly, a jar of peanut butter high up on a shelf. Perfect. Snatching it and one of the browning bananas on the counter, Olivia sets about making herself a sandwich.
She’s only a few bites in when she ends up nearly spitting in fright when the light is switched on.
“Sorry!” The voice calls. It’s a guy, about her age.
“Jesus, you scared me!” She tells him.
“Sorry,” He repeats with a wince, but she’s laughing. “I heard some noises, wasn’t sure if anyone was in here.”
“Just little ol’me.” She replies, chuckling. He’s kinda cute, in a dorky, clean cut sort of way. He’s a little stocky for the average Olympian. Everyone here in Vancouver seemed to love playing that game. Try to guess everyone’s sport just by looking at them. Olivia always thought they had an unfair advantage over her, being too tiny to be anything but a figure skater, as well as a returning Olympian from Torino in 2006.
“Peanut butter and banana sandwich?” She holds out the other half of her snack as a peace offering, somewhat joking.
His eyes move from the half of the sandwich to the opened jar of peanut butter still on the counter and back before he bursts out laughing. It’s high pitched for a guy but no less adorable.
“Don’t mind if I do,” He says, taking the other half from her hand. “Seeing as you’ve borrowed my peanut butter for it.”
Olivia raises her half of the sandwich to her mouth for another bite but freezes.
“Are you serious?” She asks him, thoroughly embarrassed. “I just thought it was left behind by catering.”
“Clearly putting it on the top shelf wasn’t enough to deter people.” He tells her, but there’s a teasing smile on his face.
She scoffs, catching on to his playful tone.
“Yeah well, there’s no name or labeling on it so, I figured it was fair game.”
“Oh did you?” He countered, coming to take a seat across from her on one of the barstools.
“Mhmm. I did. In fact, I’m even sharing with you after you startled me like that. You should be thanking me.”
He shakes his head at her, finishing off his half of the sandwich.
“For making me a sandwich with my own peanut butter?”
“Yup. 24 hour service here in Vancouver.”
This time he has to cover his mouth in order to finish chewing through his laugher.
“Apparently.” He muses once he finally swallows. Olivia lets their banter lull a little bit while she finishes up her own half. She also takes the opportunity to check out her new friend.
Dark hair that looks like it might curl if it was longer, hiding out under a Canada baseball cap. Stocky, like she noticed earlier. Actually, now that she looked a little closer-
“Holy shit.” It slips out before Olivia can stop herself. She’d totally just stolen Sidney Crosby’s peanut butter. The defending Stanley Cup champion looks up at her cuss and stares at her in confusion.
“You alright?”
“Fine! Yeah fine, sorry! I just, sort of, umm.” Olivia shakes her head at her own stupidity.
“I’m Olivia.” She finally goes with, figuring she can leave the ball in his court and let him introduce himself. If he’s so inclined.
He doesn’t seem phased however and simply offers her a hand to shake.
“Sidney.” He replies without fanfare. His hand is warm, and much bigger than hers, but that is unsurprising. Most people are large in comparison to Olivia, who clocks in at a whopping 5’2 and 125 lbs if she were to put lead in her shoes.
But it’s his eyes that really likes. They aren’t quite dark enough for the pupil to disappear in the iris, despite the dim lighting of the lounge. A warm brown, that seem unassuming and humble, regardless of the accomplishments she knows come attached to his name.
But this guy in front her had introduced himself as Sidney. Just Sidney. She sees a familiarity in that. Downplaying all those earned accomplishments in order for people to treat him at face value.
“So, what are you here for?” She asks him. Sidney raises an eyebrow, calling her on her bluff with a smirk. Olivia rolls her eyes.
“Alright, so I totally know why you’re here, and I totally figured it out like, only a minute ago.” At least he’s still laughing at her. “Can’t all have fancy sports that draw in thousands of viewers more than once every four years. Congrats, by the way.”
“Thanks,” He chuckles. “I’m assuming you mean the Cup win?”
“Of course.”
“You have me at a loss though, Olivia. I know your name, but not what you do.”
She smiles, unsurprised.
“I’m a figure skater. So, according to some, we’re supposed to hate each other.”
“Is that right?” He asks with a slight edge of sarcasm.
“I don’t know. That’s just what I’ve heard from other skaters. Personally, I’m quite fond of hockey.”
“That’s always good to hear.” He laughs, a slight twinkle in his eye from the motion of tossing his head back.
“Yeah, my dad’s a big hockey person. Think I broke his heart a little when I picked the figure skates instead of the Bauers when I was three.”
“Oh geez.”
“Yup.” Olivia tells him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Umm, sure?” He shrugs. “Depends on what it is.”
“Nothing crazy, I guess I’m just… looking for a second opinion.” She starts tentatively. Sid, seeming to recognize the switch from playful to more serious, rests his elbows on the counter and gives her his full attention.
“On?”
“If it still feels… worth it? All this time we put into the sport. Like when your winning, it feels amazing. But, do you ever have moments of doubt that leave you wondering why you do it?”
He takes a second or two to contemplate his answer.
“I think you’re always going to have moments where the frustration boils over,” He begins. “When you’re not completely loving it. Losing Game 7, media scrums, that kind of stuff. But, I genuinely couldn’t see myself doing anything else, if I’m being completely honest. So yes. It does feel worth it.”
Olivia nods in agreement. She likes that he seems to be trying to give her an honest answer, and not just a media approved one. One athlete to another.
“Thanks. I appreciate the honesty. I’m just… in a weird spot right now.”
“Are you finding it’s not worth it?” He ventures. “Skating?”
“It’s not so much that. I know I still love skating. But with my roommate-” She pauses, not sure how much she should reveal. “She’s… going through some stuff. And I guess, watching her struggle with it has me thinking about whether I might have been happier living a normal life. Not missing some of those milestones that everyone else gets to experience.”
“I get that. But I think you’ll run yourself ragged going in circles around the what ifs.”
“That’s true.” She acquiesces.
Olivia catches the time on the microwave and the wince shows on her face. “I should probably turn in. I’ve got practice tomorrow morning. Or, well, later today I guess.”
The hockey player across from her chuckles.
“It is kinda late, yeah.”
“I’ll see you around?” Olivia can’t help but ask him. She enjoyed talking with him. A rare moment that had been completely hers. She feels privileged to catch a little bit of the man himself, and not just Sidney Crosby: Hockey God.
Her question seems to pay off and she is rewarded with his smile, bright despite the late hours. She feels her stomach give a little flutter.
“Yeah, definitely.”
Olivia makes her way for the door but then stops. She impulsively pulls out her phone and turns back the hockey player.
“Did you wanna exchange numbers?” He looks a little taken aback at first, but then snaps to and pulls out his own phone.
“Yeah, sure. That’d be great.” He tells her.
She muses that her flowery, purple phone case looks ridiculous in his large hands, but keeps that observation to herself. After saving her number she hands his plain black one back to him.
“You guys have a game tomorrow, don’t you?” She asks.
He nods.
“Yeah, versus Switzerland. Game 2.”
“Well, best of luck.” She offers back with a teasing smile and is rewarded with one of his in return. “Not that you’ll need it, right?”
“Maybe not. We’ve got a pretty solid group of guys. But it’s always nice to hear, of course.”
Olivia wonders if the air is cracking from the tension between the two of them, from their eye catching staring contest. She wants to stay, to talk with him more. Ask him about winning the Cup, but more so wants to ask him about the pressures, how he deals with it all. About his family, his hometown. Wants him to let go and ramble about nothing at all. And then kiss his pretty mouth to shut him up.
But she won’t. Not tonight. It’s late. They have places to be in the morning.
“Goodnight.” She tells him instead.
“Goodnight.” He repeats.
♠ ♠ ♠
Because no one is unconvincing me that Sid would totally bring his own peanut butter and jelly with him to the Olympics.(1) - Joannie Rochette, figure skater representing Canada in Vancouver who lost her mother days before the competition. She took home bronze in an incredible show of courage and strength.
(2) Tessa Virtue, Canadian Ice Dancer. Her and her partner Scott Moir took home Gold in Vancouver.