26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Friday, 3:30 PM.

Cody

MASON: Get your ass to the gym, the USport representative will be here any minute.

Resisting the urge to smash my phone against a nearby wall, I pinch the bridge of my nose and pull up Stella’s number. It rings through and I suck down a breath before I lose my shit.

Why did the USport representative have to choose today of all days to make an appearance? Took them months to respond to the assistant coaching request I sent back in September.

I try Stella’s number again but no answer. The time on my phone blinks at me mockingly, the numbers counting down the minutes until I was supposed to drive Stella to her first therapy session.

Fuck. Why isn’t she answering her phone?

WES: Hey man, not sure what’s going on but wanted to check and see if you were ok?? We kind of need you at the gym right now.

I clench my jaw, feeling my molars pop. This whole situation is bullshit. We only got notified about this mandatory meeting ten minutes ago, and as the team captain, there is no way I cannot attend. Especially considering I was the one who sent the request in the first place.

ME: What is Lou’s number? I can’t get a hold of Stella.

WES: Here it is. Should I be worried?

Ignoring his last text, I hit Lou’s number and breathe a sigh of relief when she answers on the first ring.

“Hey, it’s Cody. Is Stella around?”

“Oh, hi Cody. Let me check.” Movement echoes through the phone, the sound of a door opening and closing before Lou hops back on the line.

“No, sorry. I think she went for a run to blow off some steam before her appointment.”

“She went for a run without her phone?” I exhale, willing myself to get a reign on my emotional spiral. My frustration and now concern for Stella’s safety puts me about two seconds from blowing my top.

“Never mind, I’ll discuss that with her later. Right now, I need your help.”

“Me?” The surprise in her voice has me softening my tone.

“Yes. Has Stella talked to you about this upcoming appointment?”

Shuffling breaks through the background and I picture Lou pacing the small space of her and Stella’s dorm.

“A little bit. She’s going to talk to someone about the accident that took her mother.”

A hint of relief hits me knowing that Lou is in the loop.

“Right. It’s going to be a rollercoaster of emotions for her today, so I was supposed to be her ride but the USport representative just showed up.”

As if on cue, my phone starts buzzing with team chat messages asking about my whereabouts. Now is not the time to be MIA.

“Oh, that’s no problem. You just need me to drop her off?

I exhale, “Please. If it were anyone but USport, I would blow them off.”

“I understand. And Stella will too. As captain, your team has to come first.”

I frown at Lou’s words, my stomach churning uneasily with the matter-of-fact way she said them. As if it’s perfectly normal for me to put a team meeting above the needs of my girlfriend.

How fucked up is that?

Lou pauses, as if sensing my rising distress, “I will let you know if anything happens. And if the team meeting runs long, just shoot me a text and I can pick her up as well.”

The grip on my phone loosens slightly, “Thank you, Lou.”

I take a second to collect myself as the frustrations of my relentless schedule and guilt of bailing on Stella threatens to overwhelm me.

The worst part about it all is that it’s my choice. I am the one who chose to take on the responsibility of being a varsity athlete, and I am the one who has yet to learn how to delegate. The meeting today was supposed to be a step in the right direction, a step towards facilitating the captain’s role as team leader, coach, and event planner.

But now, I’m not so sure I want the role of captain anymore.

Marching with the fury of Silverwood’s infamous lacrosse bully, I make my way towards the gymnasium where a stranger is going to tell me whether or not Taber got approved for the funding to bring on an assistant coach for next year’s season. It’s the epitome of my career as Taber’s lacrosse captain, but instead of thinking about the Tigers next season, I find myself wishing I could be driving my girlfriend to therapy.

Stella

I hate feeling vulnerable.

Okay, fine. I’m sure nobody enjoys being vulnerable, but for me it’s a whole different level. It’s a matter of ego, of course, but it’s also a matter of self-preservation.

Up until Cody Ellsworth, I had no trouble burying my insecurities from the world. Until that blonde fauxhawk marched into my life and dug up all those messy emotions, I was buzzing like a bee without a care in the world.

Am I still grieving my dead mother after two years? For sure.

Do I have a PTSD episode every morning? Sure, but I don’t mind waking up early.

To keep things neat and tidy, we have to compartmentalize. And sometimes that means pushing aside minor inconveniences that don’t always leave me feeling great. But according to Cody, that is me avoiding my problems.

He’s got a point, but it’s not completely accurate. You can’t avoid something if you simple choose not to address it.

Right?

“Do you want me to go in with you?” Lou squints out the windshield, assessing the nondescript white building in front of us. We’ve been parked outside my new therapist’s building for ten minutes now and I have yet to make a move to leave the car.

I shake my head, “Thank you, but I should probably do this alone. Just give me another minute.”

“It feels weird being in enemy territory, hey?”

I nod, glancing around Silverwood’s small downtown area. Taber’s biggest rival also happens to be the only town within a 100km radius that has an on-call therapist, so Lou and I had to venture across hostile borders so I can spill my deepest, darkest secrets to a stranger.

Can’t wait.

Lou smiles, pointing to a store down the road, “Lacey would love that garden shop. I’ll have to keep it in mind as an activity we could do next year.”

Following her finger, I spy the greenhouse doubling as a boutique next to an equally adorable coffee shop. Rival status aside, Silverwood has the kind of charm that makes you want to spend your days walking downtown and getting lost in the mom-and-pop shops you only find in towns this small.

If I wasn’t a loyal Tiger, I would be seriously tempted to spend more time here.

“That’s a great idea.” I take a deep breath and finally unbuckle my seatbelt, “Okay, I am going in now.”

“You got this!” Lou gives me a reassuring smile as I make a move to open the door. Just before pulling the handle, I pause and glance back at her.

“Do you think you could wait ten minutes before leaving? Just in case this doesn’t work out and I come running out screaming.”

Lou nods, “Of course. I wasn’t planning on leaving until I was sure you weren’t going to make a break for it.”

“Thank you.” Before I can give it any more thought, I yank on the handle and hurl myself from the car. Forcing myself to keep walking all the way to the door, I knock before the doubt has a chance to creep in.

The door swings open and white-blonde hair assaults my vision. I blink as a guy my age comes to a halt upon seeing me, the shock crossing his face a mirror image to the one crossing my own.

“Stella O’Brien.” He gives me a cool nod, locking me in a penetrating gaze.

“Skylar Vin.” Otherwise known as the younger brother of the psychopath who injured Cody last semester. The lacrosse bully that is Vector Vin.

Skylar shifts, drawing my attention to the massive sketchbook tucked under one arm. I consider making a crack about trauma being artistic inspiration but decide to keep my mouth shut. Even though we’ve been attending the same lacrosse games for years, Skylar and I have never hit it off.

To be honest, something about him seems a bit off, but then again, it could just be the bad image Vector projects over them both.

“A little far from home, aren’t you?” Besides the white-blonde hair, there aren’t many similarities between the Vin brothers. Where Vector is all brawn and bulk, Skylar is lean and slender. And while Vector’s nasally voice wouldn’t win him any singing competitions, Skylar’s smooth undertones gives him radio host potential.

I shrug, “It’s always good to broaden one’s horizons.”

Not a trace of a smile is cracked by my response, Skylar simply goes back to studying me. I study him right back, refusing to be intimidated by his older brother’s reputation. My gaze dances between his blue and brown irises, the opposing colours making each of them stand out in a strange but beautiful way.

“Stella?” A friendly looking woman peeks over Skylar’s shoulder, her proximity making him hunch out of the way. With a wave, she gestures for me to come in, “Please, make yourself at home. Skylar was just leaving.”

I give Skylar a tight smile as he ambles past me, but he ducks his head, avoiding my gaze and yanking up the hood of his Sabers sweater.

Weird.

Turning my attention back to the matter at hand, I tentatively step through the doorway as my new therapist chatters cheerfully, “My name is Karen, and I am here to help any way I can. What that will look like will be up to you.”

She leads me through a small office, passing what looks to be her workstation, and heads towards a large sitting room. Karen gestures for me to take a seat on the beige couch lining the far wall while she makes herself comfortable on the chair directly across from me.

A vintage clock ticks on the wall, the insistent chiming keeping in time with the nervous tapping of my foot. I force myself to stop, wishing I had thought ahead to bring a water bottle or something to occupy my hands with.

The wooden table sitting between us catches my attention and I notice for the first time the bright yellow box of tissues sitting upon it.

Casually adjusting her floral dress, Karen nods towards them, “You’ve noticed our sunshine tissues. Each one has a different message written on it, something uplifting to help when these sessions get difficult.” She smiles kindly at me, “All patients are welcome to help themselves. Sometimes these sessions can be overwhelming.”

I try not to let my horror show as I contemplate reading a snot-covered pocket card in front of a stranger. I can’t tell if that is better or worse than the simple act of crying.

“Thanks, but I can assure you those will not be necessary.”

Karen nods thoughtfully, “Of course. They are there just in case.” She grabs a pen from the cupholder beside her and clicks it, “Shall we get started then?”

“Sure.”

Karen makes herself comfortable and gives me a warm smile, “Did you book this appointment, or did someone do it for you?”

“I did. At the encouragement of others.”

“I see.” She pauses to scribble some notes, “Tell me, Stella, what are you hopping to gain from these sessions?”

I force my gaze from the ancient clock and go back to bouncing my leg.

“Closure, I guess. I struggle with panic attacks.”

“When did these panic attacks start?”

“After my mother died.” My eyes start to burn, and I mentally curse.

“Here, dear, take a tissue. It will help, trust me.”

I nod, reaching forward to grab a radiant tissue from the equally bright box. I unfold the note and crack a smile at the ridiculously cheerful message waiting for me.

You have already taken the first and hardest step!

Karen meets my gaze with kind eyes, “Are you ready to continue, Stella?”

I steal another glance at the clock. Fifty-five minutes to go.

“Maybe I’ll be needing these tissues after all.”

Karen chuckles, adding another note to her clipboard, “Everyone does.”