Blocked (29 page)

“Maybe.”

“Would you ask her?”

I considered that. “Okay.”

“Again, this might be another unexpected advantage of your private life splayed over the national news. Typically it’s nerve-wracking to ‘come out’ about your eating disorder to your friends and family. But you’ve already got it covered.”

“Awesome.”

She caught my sarcastic tone and laughed. “So, any friends outside the team?”

“There’s one girl, Ellen, in my poli sci class—we’ve talked a few times.”

“That sounds promising. Do you have much in common?”

“She said she’s going to vote for my dad.” When Dr. Valentine nodded, I added, “She told me she’s glad I’m in the class, because that will make the professor less blatant about his liberal views.”

“Really?”

“She told me to be careful what I say, or my grades might suffer.”

“Whoa. I hope that’s not true.”

I tapped my foot on the floor, wondering what to say next.

“Are you feeling nervous?”

I willed my foot to stop tapping. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Individuals who develop eating problems often suffer from high anxiety. Do you worry a lot?”

“All the time.”
No te preocupes
, my dad would always say to me.
Don’t worry, Lucy
. Too bad I couldn’t stop stressing about everything, no matter how hard I tried.

“Do you experience times when your heart races, your chest tightens, and your body trembles?”

I nodded.

“When that happens, do you feel nauseated? Like you’re out of your body?”

“Check and check. And I get all sweaty and gross.”

“So you’re experiencing panic attacks. When did you most recently experience one?”

I winced. “Did you happen to see that photo of me spiking the ball in
USA Today
?”

She paused. “No, but this morning Tina told me how the photo contributed to you starving yourself.” Her mouth tightened. “I want to kick that photographer’s ass for his indiscretion.” She shook her head. “The good news is that panic attacks are quite treatable. Let’s talk about how to handle them.”

“Take deep breaths? Tell myself to float through it, and it will get better?”

Her eyes opened wider. “Exactly! Who taught you that?”

“Well…” I sighed as I imagined his deep voice over the phone…the sexy baritone of his laugh. Then I realized I hadn’t had a panic attack since that day. “Dane did.”

“Oh, Dane Monroe, your roommate.” A hint of a smile played at one corner of her mouth. “The enemy.”

“That’s him.” The gorgeous enemy. Who made a girl get an abortion. And who’s been pretty kind to me.
Stop thinking about him.

“How did Dane know about panic attacks?”

“He said he’d overheard his mom on the phone, talking to her patients who were freaking out. He called me right after I saw the photo, and he got me to calm down.” Remembering that morning filled me with warm fuzzies. “I’m not sure how he knew to call me right then, but he really helped. I owe him one.”

Dr. Valentine studied me. “That sounds quite sweet of him.”

“He’s not that sweet, really. Not most of the time.”

“No?”

“He’s cocky and righteous and inflexible and demanding and—”

She started laughing. “Tell me how you really feel, Lucia.”

I blushed. I was being rude. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize for having strong feelings. I like it when you’re being honest. Sounds like we have a lot to discuss in our next session, like your rooming situation and what it’s like to be a Latina at Highbanks. It must be pretty different from Texas.”

“
Sí
.”

She smiled, told me to find the Dove evolution video online for homework, and we scheduled for the following week. The only time we both had free was during my study tables, so I hoped that would be okay with my coaches.
Ugh
. I didn’t look forward to seeing Coach Holter later. He hadn’t been in his office when I’d passed by this morning after being unable to get Dane out of my head.

As I slung my backpack over my shoulder, I wondered about his fate.

Chapter 18

A
S
S
HE
C
AME
D
OWN
the sports medicine hallway, I caught the shine of Lucia’s glossy black hair a second before I noticed Allison’s presence at her side. Lucia’s long legs were taking her away from me—she looked hell-bent on getting out of here. I popped off my chair. “Lucia!”

She spun around and her eyes widened. “What’re
you
doing here?” Her gaze darted to the other patients in the waiting room.

“Same thing as you, I guess.” As I stepped closer, I felt Brad follow me. Lucia wore a shirt with the logo
Pretty in Pink…Wicked in Spandex
. I lowered my voice. “Mandatory counseling with Dr. Valentine.”

“Oh.” Her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes crinkled as a little snorting sound escaped. “For your alcohol bender?”

“Don’t laugh.” I narrowed my eyes, though I was grateful to see her open up to me a little. “There are about one million places I’d rather be right now.” Her bright smile made my day.

“I hear you. But she’s not too bad. Just get her talking about her fat cat and the hour will fly by.”

“Gotcha.” My reward for winking at her was a soft bloom of pink on her face.

“Uh, um, so you get to stay on the team?”

I exhaled. “Yeah. Phil took pity on me.”

“That’s awesome news.” She looked as relieved as I felt. Then she leaned into Allison as the agent whispered something in her ear. “Well, I gotta go.” She squirmed. “I have to meet with the dietitian.” A fake smile plastered her face. “
Fantástico
.”

I knew how hard it was to swallow pride and deal with jacked-up emotions—we were both trying to figure that out. And only we knew the discomfort of salvaging our personal lives in front of three hundred million people. “You’re doing great, you know.”

She looked up at me with big, brown eyes, and I realized I’d surprised her by saying something nice. That wasn’t right. Lucia hadn’t deserved my initial goading simply because I disagreed with her father’s politics—okay, and hers too. Apparently my problems with building trust weren’t limited to my coaches—I had quite a few relationships to improve.

“Are you ready, Dane?” a female voice asked behind me.

I turned to find a solidly built woman with hazel eyes looking up at me, her hand extended. “Carly Valentine.”

I swallowed as I reached to shake her hand. “Let’s do this.” I swiveled to face Lucia. “See you at home, sweetheart?”
Whoops, that just slipped out
.

She froze in place, and I’d never seen her face so flushed. Her cheeks almost matched the color of her hot pink shirt. Lucia’s panicked eyes darted to Dr. Valentine, whose expression remained neutral, before she looked back at me. “Uh, yeah. I…better go. Bye!”

I watched her zoom off, and Allison almost had to jog to keep up with her.

“Shall we?” Dr. Valentine gestured to the entrance of the sports medicine office. I let her go first, and Brad introduced himself as we walked down the hall.

Once he’d checked out her office and planted himself outside the door, she turned to me and said, “You’re probably familiar with how this works, since your mom’s a psychologist, but I need to review informed consent anyway.”

I nodded and signed a couple forms as she explained them. I wondered what Lucia had thought of all of this psychobabble.

“So, Dane…” She settled back in her chair with her pen poised over a notepad. “Why here, why now?”

“You know what happened yesterday, right?”

“Your beer video’s had a lot of hits online, yes. You’re quite the celebrity.”

I closed my eyes and stifled a groan.

“But I want to hear from you about what’s bringing you in.”

“You mean, why I went on a rampage?”

“If that’s what you call it.” She shrugged.

“What the hell would
you
call it?”

She clicked her pen. “How about we back up a bit? How old were you when you started playing volleyball?”

This seemed like more comfortable territory. “Ten.”

“You’re a setter, right?”

I nodded.

“What do you love about volleyball?”

“Winning.” She smiled but kept looking at me like she wanted more. I scratched my neck. “And, diving for a save. Setting the perfect ball.” I pictured the old arena in my mind. “Acing a serve. Dumping the ball over the net when they least expect it.” I was on a roll. “But the best part is when we’re deep in the fifth game, and both teams are toast, our jerseys stick to us with sweat, and the coach calls a time-out—we’re staring at each other in the huddle and it’s like a total connection, total brotherhood…nobody knows who’s gonna win, but we know we’re gonna fight like rabid pit bulls, and the crowd’s going nuts, my muscles tingle…then the ref’s whistle blows, and it’s time to unleash holy hell…” I noticed her smile widen. “What?”

“You got my heart pumping!” She placed a hand over her chest. “Sounds like you feel truly alive in that moment.”

“Yeah. It’s amazing.” I looked away, silently cursing myself. “And I almost flushed moments like that right down the toilet.”

“You thought you’d be dismissed from the team?”

“I was worried. Phil had already suspended me, then I pull that shit with the beer? I mean, how many chances will he give me? He’s the best coach I’ve ever had, and I went and jeopardized the whole thing.” I rubbed the lifeline of my palm as I sighed. “He kept telling me to come see you, and, like a jackass, I ignored him.”

A line creased her forehead. “I’m trying to keep up, here. Michelle told me about the underage drinking, but you were suspended before that?”

“I thought Phil talked to you.”

“Only the administrator calls me in these situations. What were you suspended for?”

“Anger management problems,” I explained, accenting with air quotes. “I stepped over the line with my coaches.”

“What happened?” When I didn’t answer, she said, “You know, many athletes struggle with anger. We ask you to be ultra-aggressive in your sport, then expect you to just shut it down when you walk off the court. It’s not that easy.”

“I should know better.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m not just a dumb jock.”

“Clearly. What’s your GPA?”

I shrugged. “It’s an A average. But psychology research methods might bring me down this year.”

“Every psych major’s nightmare.” She smiled knowingly. “What made you so angry that you acted out on your coach? You seem to respect him.”

“What a relief to get that off my chest.”
My dad’s smug face filled my mind, and I felt my right hand clench into a fist. “I can’t say.”

“You can’t?”

“No.” But I wanted to.
I
wanted to ‘
get that off my chest’
too. “Not when you’re telling the AD and my coaches what I say in here.”

“I have to report your attendance and overall progress to them, but not specifics.” She studied me. “I realize you have unique security considerations with your mother’s position, and I’ll be extra careful with privileged information. Secret Service already briefed me this morning.”

“They did?”

“I could get into a lot of trouble with the government if I leaked any information. But Dane, I would keep your secrets even without Secret Service calling me. That’s what confidentiality is about.”

I sighed. “I guess it helps that you’re voting for my mother, too.”

She blinked at me.