Numbers. People only run numbers when they're trying to figure out if they can make something work.
Holy shit. Henderson's going to produce my show!
Chapter 21: Leslie
Tell me a little bit about why you're here." Malachi Andrews is not what I expected from a psychotherapist.
First off, I automatically pictured an old white dude with wire-rimmed glasses and an ugly checked jacket. Malachi is darker-skinned than me. I'd guess both of his parents are black or brown. It's impossible to tell his age. He could be anywhere from thirty to fifty. He's also bald, and is wearing a soft button-down shirt that probably has some amount of silk in it.
"Gloria told me you helped her." I'm only paying for the time. Why would I start right off with talking about my own needs?
"We're not here to talk about Gloria, so tell me about yourself."
Ah, he sees through my bullshit. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. "I'm a ballerina.Wasa ballerina. I tried to be a ballerina."
Jesus, I'm a mess. But that's a given. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here.
"Let's talk about ballet since you started with it."
It's hard for me to remember a time in my life when ballet wasn't a part of it. This is the longest I've gone without attending any sort of ballet class since I was a very young child. "I don't know who I am without it. But now, I don't have it."
"Why did you quit?"
Quit is not even a word in my vocabulary. "I didn't quit. I would never quit. You don't get to be the best by quitting." I look down at my hands, tightly intertwined in my lap. "But no matter what I did, I couldn't be the best. And they saw that. They saw I wasn't good enough. They saw the real me."
"The you who's not good enough?"
I nod. "It's not like I don't try. I try harder than anyone I've ever met. But I always end up just shy of where I need to be. Like, I'm good. Just not good enough."
"And how does that make you feel?"
I don't like how it makes me feel. "Terrible. I hate myself because of it."
"Because you can't be the best? There's only ever one best. That's a pretty high standard to hold yourself to."
"You don't understand. That's what it takes to be in my family. We're literally champions. My father and his father before him. Both played rugby sevens for the Fiji National team. My grandfather was part of the team that won the Hong Kong Sevens in 1976 and 1977, while my dad pitched his way to the Rugby World Cup Sevens championship in 1997. Had Rugby Sevens been in the Olympics back then, they both would have been on the team. By the way, did you know that Fiji won the first-ever Olympic gold medal in 2016, and again in 2021?" I sit up a little taller, filled with pride in my grandfather's home country. That pride is intractably intertwined with my need to be the best.
"That's an impressive pedigree. It's a lot to live up to. Do you play rugby?"
I shrug. "I mean, I technically knowhowto play. Like I know how to drive a stick shift. But like, not enough to actually do it in real life."
"Why ballet instead of rugby?"
I shrug.
"Did you feel like you should be playing rugby?"
His question stops me cold. "I … I never thought about it."
Malachi lifts an eyebrow. "Interesting, considering you've told me more about Fijian rugby than you have about ballet, and ballet is supposed to be your life."
I thought therapists were supposed to remain impartial and unemotional. That eyebrow was not impartial.
I open my mouth and close it again, trying to come up with an answer. "I never thought about it." I'm repeating myself, but have nothing else to say.
"Interesting."
"Wait, why is that interesting? You barely know me. How can you be making judgments already?"
