EVERYTHING’S FINE.
Bile rolls up into the back of my mouth as we stride into the bench. Andy says something I can’t hear or rather process at the moment. I wish he had let me do this without Hunter. I’m nervous enough as it is without a stranger watching me battle my demons.
My adrenaline spikes, and all of a sudden, someone skates up to us, seemingly appearing midair. The sound of his skates digging into the ice makes me jump out of my skin, moving a solid foot back from the group.
Oh God, this was a terrible, horrible idea. Worst idea I’ve ever had, in fact. I need a break or to run away and never look back. I can’t do this. I’m a failure and never going to be able to get back on the ice.
Another guy skates up next to the first, his stop sounding much more metallic as he glides right into his friend. The clink of the blades rings in my ears, and my mind immediately spirals.
I close my eyes, stepping back until I find a wall to touch to ground me. But I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t …
My breaths are short and shallow, rapidly increasing.
“Shay?” Andy whispers my name.
My eyes fly open, and embarrassment floods my system as I try to get my breathing under control but fail. “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”
Offering a forced smile, I turn on my heel and stride away, desperate for quiet, for darkness, anything to make me forget where I really am. I storm farther down the tunnel, passing the locker room entrance. Approaching the next door, unlabeled, I try the handle and find it unlocked, twisting it and opening it with ease.
I slip inside, shutting it behind me and keeping the light off, the sounds of my heavy breathing filling the room. I don’t have to turn the light on to know what this place is. I can smell the equipment from here. Somehow, the familiar smell of hockey gear only tightens my chest more.
“Fuck!” I shout, squeezing my eyes shut as tightly as possible. “I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.”
Tears roll down my cheeks, trailing down my neck. I sniffle, the thick, wet sound tearing me in two. I shouldn’t have come here. This was so stupid. Andy was wrong to believe that I could do this, that I was anywhere near ready.
My breaths are faster than ever, racing with my heart, the gasping sounds like glass to my ears. Crashing to the ground, I wrap my arms around my knees and rock back and forth, wishing I had never stepped foot in this arena.
Ugh, I just want it to stop. I just want to go back to how it was before. Why did this happen to me?
My eyes burn intensely, my throat raw as I cry out.
This wasn’t supposed to be my fate. This wasn’t how I was supposed to live. But I don’t even get a goddamn say in the matter.
“Fuck!”
I don’t want to be scared of the ice. I don’t want to be scared to lace up my skates. I fucking miss it more than anything. It’s like my best friend suddenly became untouchable, and I’m so terrified to reunite with the ice. But I miss it dearly. An ache shudders in my soul, yearning to feel the cool air whip around me as I skate. But I don’t know if that will ever happen again, and I’m just so goddamn mad!
Reaching a new low, I break out one of the only things capable of pulling me from a panic attack, aggressively singing “Hollaback Girl” by Gwen Stefani. I don’t know why or when this song became my goddamn saving grace, but here we are.
I start on the first verse, the lyrics flowing from my tongue with quick gasps and shaky breaths. My broken and breathy version of “Hollaback Girl” continues to fill the room, and I force myself to keep going as I get through the first chorus.
“Just breathe, just breathe. It’s okay.” My voice sounds otherworldly, deep and ragged.
But I can’t breathe. I don’t know if I will ever again, and honestly, I’m starting to wonder if I even want to anymore. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to survive my accident. Maybe I was supposed to die on the ice that day.
I’m rocking side to side, a warmth spreading through my back as a big hand caresses my arm, and my eyes fly open, locking on to my now-illuminated heels.
Oh God. The voice sounded so odd because it wasn’t mine at all.
Embarrassment eats me alive from the inside out because someone found me like this, in absolute shambles.
But he continues to rock me side to side, and I hate to admit the feeling of being held like this, him beside me and pulling me close, is helping.
“I’m fine.” I heave a sigh. “I just need a second. You can leave,” I tell whoever it is, most likely Andy. But this guy’s cologne is different from Andy’s, smelling like ocean waves and fresh linen. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
I don’t want to meet his eye or see who it is because somehow that will make this horrible fucking encounter all the worse. I just need him to leave so I can suffer through this in peace.
“Ehh, I’ve got nowhere to be,” he mutters and pulls his arm away, shifting fully to my side with his hands on top of his knees, legs crossed at the ankles. Suddenly, it’s very clear that this isn’t Andy. As if the deeper masculine voice wasn’t enough evidence. “Besides, I think you might need a friend.”
