Page 15 of A Scoring Chance

I’ll be right out.

“What the fuck, Alise?” I groan, my cheeks instantly heating in embarrassment. “Way to make me look like a stalker or something. Next time you want to get Cooper to tell you what’s going on, leave me out of it.”

“It worked, didn't it?” she says with a smile before pocketing her phone.

I don’t even have the patience to argue with her anymore. Alise Moore is going to do what Alise Moore wants, and there’sno changing her mind. She is a force of nature, which is the thing I love most about her, but right now, it’s not helping matters.

“Whatever. I have to get down to the rink for the actual reason I came,” I grumble before making my way down the stairs toward the large group of parents.

As I get closer to the group, I can hear the other coach speaking. “Coach Hendrix will be coaching the 12U team, and I will remain with the 14U boys. We wanted to keep things as close to the normal routine as possible, so both teams will continue to practice together on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights from 7-8:30 pm.”

My mind wanders as he continues speaking, wondering who this man is to Cooper Hendrix. Based on what Alise had to say about Cooper, I doubt some random kids’ hockey coach could say something to anger him so quickly. He doesn’t look to be much older than my mother, which isn’t saying a lot because my mom doesn’t look her age either. He has wrinkles in all the right places, but not much gray in his hair. Actually, his eyebrows are greyer than anything else. He has a welcoming smile, but it’s not nearly as disarming as Cooper’s. Hell, I doubt there is anything as disarming as that smile.

“Where’s Coach Hendrix?” someone asks from the crowd.

Yeah, where is Cooper? Alise said he was going to be coming out in a few minutes, but I haven’t seen him yet. I turn to see if Alise is still where I left her, but she’s disappeared, as well. Shit, this can’t be good. Alise never leaves without saying goodbye. Ever. She knows how important it is to me. I shut my eyes tightly as I grip my shirt over my chest. “I’m fine. She’s fine. Everything is fine,” I mumble to myself as I attempt to calm my breathing. Who knew after all these years that I’d still panic at the thought of someone leaving without saying goodbye?

Tears well in my eyes as I remember the slam of the door as I walked out, fuming mad about something stupid but hadmeant the world to me. I should have told them I loved them. I should’ve said something before storming out of the house. If only I had known it was the last time I’d have seen them.

My chest tightens as if all the air is being sucked out of the room and someone has wrapped their fingers around my neck. I struggle to take a breath as panic bubbles up from my stomach and settles in my chest. Beads of sweat dot my forehead as my eyes snap shut, my lips moving slightly as I slowly count backward from ten in my head. I continue counting, willing my body to calm down, only getting to three before sucking in a gasping breath and falling to the side. I pull my knees up to my chest and tighten my arms around them.

Five things. Five things I can see around me.

My eyes snap open and search the rink for anything I can focus on: the coach, the ice, the colorful banners hanging from the rafters, the… Shit. My vision blurs as tears brim in my eyes. I close my eyes again as I feel a set of arms wrap around me, pulling me tightly into them. I don’t dare open my eyes to see who it is because right now; I’m just glad I’m not alone.

Four things I can touch.

The rough feeling of my shirt gripped in my hand, the weight of my phone in my hand, the feeling of the stranger’s skin beneath my other hand as I grip it tightly. Their muscles tighten as they grip me tighter in their arms.

Deep breath in and let it out slowly.

Shit. I need to focus. I need to calm down before someone notices, or even worse, Darius sees me. The last thing he needs right now is for his new teammates and their parents to notice me freaking out in the stands for apparently no reason. No matter how much I breathe and count, still trying to focus on my five things, I can’t. Nothing is helping the pain radiating through my chest as I try to focus on anything else but memories from that day.

“Hey.” A warm set of hands grips my knee, the heat warming my freezing limbs as my eyes snap open. Sitting right in front of me with a warm smile is Darius. “You got this. Just breathe with us, okay?”

Darius is the spitting image of my dad when he was younger. Yes, my dad. Not his own. What can I say? Our family has strong genes. His untamable curly hair sits on top of his head, pointing in every direction. The freshly cut side is tapered down almost to the skin. He has on a red hoodie with some logo on it with a thin black jacket over top.

Deep breath in and let it out slowly.

“I’m sorry, Mona. So sorry. Coop texted me again, and I was just so worried I took off. I didn’t think to say anything to you,” Alise says from behind me, squeezing me tightly.

Ah, so it is Alise sitting behind me. Helping me get it together when I spiral isn’t anything new to either of them. Dealing with anxiety isn’t anything new to me, but after that night, things got exponentially worse. I take medications and go to therapy regularly, but there are still times when I just can’t keep it together. It’s so frustrating. Even with everything that I do to stop the anxiety and panic from taking over, it still happens sometimes. And at the worst times, like when I’m in a roomful of people who have no idea what the hell I’ve been dealing with for the last five years.

In and out. In and out.

I gasp for breath, my cheeks and chest feeling like they’re on fire as I allow the air to fill my lungs, easing my panic. I push up to a seated position, resting my back against the door for a second time. The tightness in my chest subsides, allowing me to breathe easier.

“I’m sorry,” I croak, my eyes scanning the rink, searching to see who might have noticed what happened.

That is probably the worst part about my episodes. It’s the feeling of embarrassment afterward. Everyone has things they are worried about, but the physical manifestations of those fears are looked down on. I can’t even count how many times I’ve been told to just get over it. Trust me, if it were that fucking easy, I’d have done it already, but trauma does that to you. Your mind and body remember things forever. The only thing I can do is find a healthy way to cope and process my thoughts and feelings.

“Don’t worry, no one noticed. Everyone is too focused on trying to get a glimpse of Coop, but joke’s on them. He isn’t coming.”

“Oh,” is all I can say, trying desperately to hide my disappointment.

I wanted a chance to chat with him one more time, to look into his eyes and lose myself for a few minutes. A chance to forget about all my responsibilities and just be Ramona for a moment.

“Yeah. But he told me to apologize for worrying you.” Alise rests her cheek against the top of my head. “You okay now?”

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