Charlotte's Tangled Web: L.B. Pavlov (37 page)

“Oh, I’m doing good, thank you,” I said.

“It seems like you and Misty are getting along great,” he continued.

“Oh yes, she is really sweet. She has helped me so much. Thank you for putting us together,” I said, smiling. I still felt nervous. There was something he hadn’t said yet. I could tell by the way he was posturing.

“Well, Charlie, there is something else that I want to speak to you about.” He began cautiously, “First off, your running has been beyond impressive. You are pushing everyone on this team already, and we’ve just begun. I thought about throwing you in with the boys on those repeats to see what you could do if you were pushed harder. But I have some concerns that I want to discuss with you,” he said, pausing for a moment to choose the correct words.

“Um, did I do something wrong?” I asked nervously, my voice shaking now.

“No, Charlie, it’s not about doing anything wrong. Listen, when your dad phoned me that you were ill the week before you came out to school, I was concerned that he was pushing for you to come out early, and so quickly after being sick. I could tell as soon as I saw you that your health was not at its best. You have dropped a considerable amount of weight for a girl who is already extremely lean. This is a concern for me,” he said, stopping to sip some water and gauge my response.

“Oh, Coach Little, I’m sorry about my weight. I have had a hard time eating. It was hard leaving home and with such short notice, and…” I paused.

Coach Little spoke instead. “Listen, I have three daughters, Charlie. I know that you have been going through something, and I’m not trying to upset you at all. Normally when people drop weight like this, their running suffers. For some reason you seem to be pushing yourself very hard on an empty tank, and I know that won’t be good for you. So here’s the deal: if you need someone to talk to, my door is always open. If it’s something you want to work through on your own or with a friend, I respect that as well. But, as your coach, I need to tell you that I won’t let you put yourself at risk. So even if you become our number one runner, if I don’t see you put some weight back on, I will have you sit out of both practices and races,” he said firmly buy kindly.

“I am trying,” I said as my voice started to quiver, and the tears started to come down my cheeks. I was mortified. Now I was crying in front of Coach Little. He just caught me off-guard. What if I did all of this, I thought, and I came out here all alone, and he ends up sitting me out? It would all be for nothing.

“You are trying to eat? What does that mean? Are you sick?” he asked quietly, almost whispering with concern.

“No, I’m not sick, Coach Little. I, um, Daniel and I broke up a few days before I left for school. And, um, my dad had this all happen so fast, and I never said good-bye to anybody. And, I just feel so sad. And my heart hurts so badly. And…” I started to sob right there in the middle of the Stanford cross-country coach’s office.

He came around his desk and pulled up a chair next to mine.

He patted me on the back and said, “Charlie, I’m glad you told me what was going on. Having a broken heart is not easy. I have been there before myself,” he said sweetly, and I looked up, wiping my tears.

“You have?” I whimpered.

“Of course I have. And I’m not going to lie to you: it doesn’t heal overnight. But it gets better every day, and making yourself sick in the process will not mend a broken heart,” he said softly.

For the first time, someone actually seemed to understand.

“I’m not trying to avoid eating, my stomach just feels sick all the time. I try to force myself to eat more, but with the mileage I’m doing, I’m obviously just not getting enough calories in,” I said, and he could tell I was aware of the problem and trying to fix it.

“Well, listen, a broken heart is sometimes worse than being sick. And Daniel seems like a nice guy, so I can imagine this is pretty painful for you to be going through, and so far from home.” He got up from the chair and walked back around his desk. “Here is what I am suggesting.” He leaned down and pulled out two cases of something and set them on his desk. “I picked these up for you today. They are weight-gain vitamin drinks. I did a little research, and these have over three hundred and fifty calories and tons of nutrients. I want you to eat as much as you can and add two to three of these a day to your diet—at least until your heart mends a little bit, and we get a few pounds back on you,” he said, and he gave me a sweet smile. “These are not to be substituted for food, Charlie, but in addition to your meals, OK?” he finished cautiously.

“Oh, OK. I’m really sorry that you had to go to such trouble for me. I’m so embarrassed. I’m not usually such a mess, but lately my world has been a little, um, turned around I guess,” I said quietly, definitely feeling a little pathetic.

“Charlie, we are one big family here at Stanford. You don’t need to be embarrassed because we all go through things. I want to make sure that you’re OK. And I’m here if you need to talk. But I am serious when I tell you that you won’t run in practice or in races if I don’t think you’re healthy, and you need to start drinking those drinks as of today. OK?” he gently pushed.

I thanked him, and he gave me a big hug, and he walked me out to load the cases of drinks into my car. I drank one on the way home, and I took to heart what he said. When I pulled into the dorms, I sat in my car and thought about what Coach Little had said. He must be a really good dad. Coach Little was more concerned with me being OK and less concerned with my running. My dad was the exact opposite. The thought made me sad. But I decided that I was not going to sit out of practice and races because I was not eating enough. I was going to drink these as often as I needed to.

Another week went by, and I had been drinking at least three of the drinks that Coach Little had given me every day. I was feeling physically stronger, and my energy was much better. I was running great and pushing myself very hard. Coach Little had put three more cases in my car during practice. I told him that I could go get them myself, but he said that it was not a problem at all.

When we were standing alone, he asked if my heart had started to mend a little yet. I told him that it hadn’t and that I didn’t think that it ever would but I appreciated him asking. He told me that I looked a lot better and to keep drinking the drinks, and I could cut them down once I was eating enough.

Nick came jogging over. “Well there’s the cutest freshman on campus!” he said flirtatiously, and I felt my face flush because Coach Little was standing next to me. This guy was starting to work my nerves. He was relentless; it had become a daily game to him.

“Are you ever going to have dinner with me?” he asked, grinning.

Coach Little could see how embarrassed and uncomfortable I was. “Come on, Stevens, give her a break,” he said, and Nick started to laugh.

“You know me, coach, I don’t give up easily! She just needs to say yes to dinner once,” he said, flashing his charming smile, which would probably win over anyone else—just not the person who was head-over-heels in love with someone else who had just broken her heart. “How about tonight?” he said, still pushing.

Now I was annoyed. I had tried to be nice, but now he was embarrassing me. “No thank you! Not to dinner tonight or any other night. I’m sorry,” I said firmly.

He burst out laughing. I was stunned that he thought this was funny. He was a glutton for punishment. “Well, then I’ll keep asking until you finally crack one day!” he said, and he winked at me.

It reminded me of the way that Daniel would wink at me, and I felt the familiar ache travel through my entire body. I missed him so bad. I missed the sound of his voice and the way that he looked at me and how I felt when I was with him.

I had thrown myself into running because that was the only time that I felt happy. I would hear my mom’s voice when I ran, and it comforted me. When I was in pain in workouts, I pushed right through it. Nothing compared to the pain of my broken heart. Everything seemed easy in comparison.

.

chapter
17

longing

I had been at Notre Dame for a few weeks. The decision to come early was a good one. I couldn’t stand to be at my house with Charlotte no longer living across the street. I had sunk into a pretty deep depression, and my parents encouraged me to go to school early and train with my team over the summer. I basically submerged myself completely into football. I would spend six to seven hours a day on the field, in the gym, or in the weight room.

There wasn’t a day that went by in which I wasn’t haunted by what had happened. I kept picturing the way that she looked when she was leaving for the airport. I stood in the window, watching her and my mom hug good-bye, and when she looked over at my house, we had locked eyes. She looked different. She looked frail and sad. We were both broken. I would never be whole again until I was with her.

I thought about her every day, throughout the day. I wondered if she was scared and lonely. I pictured her out in California all alone. I wondered if she was making friends. I wondered if she had closed herself off from everyone and if she was as sad as I was. I couldn’t stand to think about it. I kept my mind busy with football, reminding myself that I would work hard so that we could be together next year.

I pushed away the fear that she may never forgive me for what had happened and the biggest fear of all: that she may not want me anymore. I was going to work hard and prove myself to her and show her that I could be the man that she deserved. The original plan was to wait a year, but it had already become impossible to stand. I had then resolved to wait until Christmas, but I could no longer stomach the idea of waiting that long either. I convinced myself that I would wait until her birthday, October 12. I could make it until then.

I would fly to California and explain everything to her. She would already be submerged in her season and there wouldn’t be any risk of her walking away from her team and, most importantly, her dreams. I could show her that it was not hard for me to be faithful and trustworthy because I had not wavered in any way to my commitment to her.

I wouldn’t move into my dorm with James until the start of the school year, when he returned from Europe. I was rooming with a friend of Devon’s for the summer, which worked out well because I was not supposed to be here until August. I worked out every day, all day, and I basically was home to shower, eat, and sleep. My roommate, Klein, was on the football team with me. He was a great guy.

I was getting to know a lot of the guys on the team, so being there over the summer was actually helpful as far as football went. We would have the plays down long before the season started. Klein would go out most nights with a bunch of the guys on the team, and they would always invite me. I had gone along once or twice for pizza and pool. I was pretty tired from how hard I was working out, and I looked forward to going to sleep and not thinking about the heavy weight that sat on my heart.

Klein and I had just finished our weight workout, and we were both completely exhausted. We were power-eating Taco Bell take-out, and he was asking me about my high school football team. Klein was a cool guy. He was a year older than me. He was from Indiana too, and he was a great running back.

“Hey, do you remember that chick Katie who was hanging out when we were playing pool the other night?” he asked, laughing.

“Um, not really. There were a lot of people there, though, most of whom I don’t know,” I said, laughing back.

“She’s a cool girl. I went to high school with her, and she came here to school last year when I did.” He continued, “She was asking me if you had a girlfriend,” he said. “I told her I didn’t know. I was actually a little annoyed with her because I have been hitting on her since my senior year in high school,” he said, and we both burst out laughing.

“Oh, that sucks, dude. Well, let her know that I do have a girlfriend, and I’m completely whipped,” I said, smiling. “Maybe you should just ask her out,” I suggested.

“Yeah, I’m getting the feeling that she isn’t interested, especially when she asked about my roommate. Does your girlfriend go to school here?” he asked.

“No, she goes to Stanford. She’s an amazing runner,” I said proudly.

“Oh man, that’s cool. Have you guys been together long?” he asked as he continued to eat his tacos.

“Yeah, I’ve pretty much been in love with her since I was five years old. She’s the best,” I said, taking my last bite.

“Five years old?” he said, laughing some more. “Dude, you started young. That’s cool that you guys have known each other for such a long time. I hope she makes it to one of the games so I can meet her,” he said, smiling.

It felt good to say that Charlotte was still my girlfriend. That’s how I felt, and I was proud to tell everyone. I somehow doubted that she would be saying she had a boyfriend though. Charlotte thought that I had betrayed her, and I couldn’t wait to get this all straightened out.