Blocked (16 page)

“
Don’t
call her that.”

Jessica looked at me more closely.
Uh-oh
. I’d seen that conniving grin on her face before.

“Do you…
like
her, Danish?” Her eyes filled with menace as she drew out the sentence.

Do I like her?
No. No way. Right? Then why did I feel a jab to the gut from seeing her pictured so unfairly? Why did I need to defend her to my sister? A self-aware psych major should have more of a friggin’ clue about his feelings, but until I figured them out, I wasn’t about to share them with my family. I pegged Jessica with an unwavering glare. “Not that it’s any of your business, but
no
. She’s Adolf’s spawn! No way I could like her.”

“You sound kind of defensive, there, brother.”

“And you sound totally judgmental. Don’t believe everything you see in the news—things aren’t always as they seem. This photo is completely unfair to Lucia. She’s actually really pretty.”

“You
do
like her.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I…
arghhh!”
I swallowed. “You’re infuriating. I’m not into Lucia, okay?”
I’m not into Lucia
, I repeated silently. If I said it enough times, maybe it would be true. “I just don’t like it when people portray Highbanks athletes in a negative light.”

She maintained eye contact for a few moments before she pointed at the paper. “It’s not like the Ramirez family will care about this. Hell, they probably
like
being called aggressive. That Lucia girl will be happy she’s in the national news, I bet.”

Lucia will
not
be happy
. An image of the greenhouse TV room flashed in my mind, when Agent Allison and I had watched coverage of the shitstorm surrounding Lucia living in the same house as me.

“Lucia gets panicked around the media,
” Allison had said. “
They’ve said some mean things about her
.”

My gut twisted as I imagined how Lucia would react to
this
photo, which was about as mean as it could get.
No one deserves that.
“Where’s Mom?” I blurted.

Jessica shrugged. “She wasn’t in her room when I got back.”

“Where are my agents?”

“
Your
agents?” Jessica laughed as she tilted her head toward the adjoining suite. “Wonder Woman and Meathead are in there, eating.” She held up the last bite of egg sandwich and popped it in her mouth. “They tchold me to get you upph for shome breakfash.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” I cringed as I climbed out of bed. “And beat it—I want some privacy.”

That same wicked look returned to her eyes. “You want me to beat it so you can
beat it?”

I leaned out the doorway of the bathroom to retort, “You’re disgusting. Go hang out with
Johnnie
, you little ho-bag.”

“Great idea!”

She bounded out of the bedroom, taking her eau de chlorine scent with her, and I unplugged my phone from the charger near the bathroom sink. My stomach growled, but suddenly I had something to do before breakfast. I found Allison’s number in my contacts and dialed her.

“Is everything okay?” was her greeting.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I realized I had no idea how to phrase my question. Maybe this was a dumb idea to call. “Uh, how are you?”

She paused. “I’m…great. You’re still in Wisconsin?”

“Yeah. We have a day off practice, so I’m coming back tonight.”

“Right.”

Another awkward pause.
Pony up, Monroe
. “Did, um, did Lucia see
USA Today
by any chance?”

“Oh, God—you saw it too?”

“Yeah. It was…awful.”

“I have the paper right here, but she hasn’t emerged from her room yet this morning. Frank and I are debating showing it to her.” Allison fell silent for a moment. “What do
you
think we should do?”

I chewed my lower lip.

“I mean,” she continued, “if an unflattering photo of you hit the national news like this, would you want to know?”

Would I want to know?
I wasn’t sure. What I
did
know was that I’d bludgeon the photographer with his damn camera if anyone ever printed something like that of me. Considering how rumors spread like poisonous gas through a locker room, I clenched my teeth. “She’s going to find out eventually.”

Allison sighed. “I think you’re right. We leave in about five minutes for practice, and she’s gonna want to know how the media covered the game.”

I heard a voice in the background that sounded like Lucia’s.

When Allison whispered, “
Shit
,” I knew it was Lucia next to her. “This paper?” Allison’s voice rose. “Aren’t you going to eat some breakfast before practice?”

Lucia said something in response that I couldn’t hear. Apparently Allison hadn’t distracted her with the breakfast question because I heard some background noise followed by Allison asking, “Didn’t you read about the game online?”

“I just got up,” Lucia said. She must have stepped closer to Allison, and I could hear the sleepiness in her voice. “I was too jacked up from the game to fall asleep. C’mon, let me see the paper.”

In the ensuing silence, I guessed that Allison had relinquished the newspaper. I bet she held her breath just like I did. Then Lucia’s wail obliterated that silence.

“
¡Ay, Dios mío!
No, no…
nooo
. I’m a
ballena
.”

You’re
not
a whale!
I wanted to yell.

“Lucia, it’s okay,” Allison said. “Calm down.”

“What’s happening?” I demanded.
What are you doing?
I asked myself.

Allison paused a moment. “She’s shaking, and she’s breathing really fast. She’s holding onto the wall like she might pass out.”

“Ask her if her heart’s racing.”

Allison relayed my question, and I heard Lucia gasp, “Yes.”

“Ask her if she feels like she’s about to throw up.”

“Yes,” Lucia responded to Allison, then asked her, “Who…are you…talking to?”

Allison said, “Dane.”

“Oh, God,” Lucia moaned. “He…
saw
the photo?
Noooo
.”

When it sounded like she started crying, I clenched my fists. I wished I was there with her—I wished I could tell her to hang in there. I knew as well as anyone that freshman year could suck, but things did get better. This just wasn’t fair.

Allison whispered to me, “She’s on the floor now,” and to Lucia, “You don’t look so good. Maybe I should take you to the ER.”

“Let me talk to her, Allison.”
I have to try to help her
.

“I…I don’t think that would be wise,” she whispered.

“Give her the phone!”

There was a rustling, then all I could hear were sharp gasps for air. I tried to remember what my mother used to say over the phone to a psychotherapy client in crisis. “Breathe, Lucia. Let your breaths go deep in your belly. Allow your muscles to relax, let your fists unclench. Float through this—nothing worse will happen. That’s right, c’mon Lucy, breathe…”

A whimper leaked out between her panting breaths. “I’m dizzy. Something’s…wrong with…me.”

“Nothing is wrong with you. You’re just having a panic attack.”

“How do…you know?”

“Because I’ve overheard my mom on crisis calls. You feel like you’re going to die, right?”

“
Sí
.”

“Well, you’re not. Nobody’s ever died from a panic attack. It’s just your sympathetic nervous system kicking into overdrive.”
That fucking photographer…he made an innocent girl think she was dying!
“C’mon, let’s count to three when you breathe in, and three when you breathe out. Just like your approach to hit the ball. One, two, three…”

I heard a staccato gasp of breath—she sounded close to hyperventilating. “Count with me, Lucy. I know you want to brace against it, but it’s just a feeling. It’s just anxiety…float through it, and it will go away.
Cálmate
. Exhale completely. Let your shoulders fall as you breathe out.”

I felt myself grow calmer as I practiced the breathing with her, and miraculously, her breaths slowed and smoothed out too. As I listened to her breathing, gradually matching mine, a strange sort of intimacy reverberated between us. It was like I wanted to hold her in my arms.
Tranquilo. That’s right, keep breathing, Luz.
I felt puzzled, listening to my silent urges for her to calm down. Where had Luz come from? And what would she think if I said it out loud?

“I, I feel better,” she said. She exhaled. “
Gracias
.”

My chest flooded with warmth as I heard her quiet thanks. I’d barely known what to say to her, but it had seemed to help. “I’m glad.”

“I have to get to practice.”

When a sob escaped her mouth, my throat tightened. “What’s wrong?”

“They’ll see the photo.” Her voice trembled. “Coach will make fun of me.”

Fucker
. “He better not.” I drummed my fingers on my thigh and slid my tongue over my lower lip. “Listen, I bet your teammates will love the photo.”

“
What?”

“You’re their new weapon. Can you imagine what Bridgetown will think when they see that photo? You look like a freaking badass. They’ll be scared shitless to block you!”

Her sudden giggle caught me by surprise. It was a lilting, girlish sound, and I couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“So this photo will scare the other teams?”

“Dude,
I’m
scared of you in this photo. Bridgetown will be
terrified
.”

When her giggles multiplied, my grin stretched wider. She had such an infectious laugh.

“Maybe we can get that guy to photograph my jump serve,” she said. “Then my
serve
will intimidate the hell out of them, too.”

“Excellent idea.”
I can’t believe I’m smiling like an idiot. Is this awesome feeling because I helped her?

“Ahhh…” The humor seemed to fade from her voice. “Allison’s telling me it’s time to go. See you tonight?”

Wow
. It almost sounded like she wanted to see me. And it seemed I kind of wanted to see her too. “Sure. Don’t take out too many of your teammates with your ‘violent spikes’ before then.”

I could hear the smile in her voice. “They better watch out for my vicious violence. I’m gonna get my stuff—here’s Allison.”

“That was the worst I’ve seen her, but you really got her through that panic attack,” Allison said when she was back on the phone. “What’d you say to her?”

“I just tried to channel Dr. Lois Monroe.” I shrugged.

“You did great. Thank you, Dane—you averted a crisis there. We owe you one.” She cleared her throat. “Is China around?”

My stomach grumbled as I looked toward the door. “She’s in the other room, want me to get her?”

“Um, no…I’ll catch up with her later. Lucia’s ready—we have to go.”

Once I hung up, I scrounged through my duffle bag for some clothes, wincing at the bruise near my ribs when I bent over.

“Hey, China,” I said as I entered the attached suite a few minutes later. “When are we headed back?”

Chapter 11