I broke into a jog toward Bob’s office, my helmet slipping in my hand.
“Hunter!” a voice called, and I flinched. It was Mason, strolling out of the locker room, sneakers squeaking. “You ditching us again?”
“I’ll catch you guys later. Gotta do something first,” I called over my shoulder.
His laughter echoed down the hall. “Uh-huh. She won’t even let you change after practice? Riding you hard these days, I see.”
“He likes it,” Tucker chimed in.
I didn’t slow down. Because their ragging didn’t affect me anymore. And also, so what if I did like it? So far this season, Holly was the only one who didn’t falter when it came to having my back.
So I kept walking, heart pumping, teeth grinding against the last few missed shots from practice, the sting of my mother’s rejection, the heavy weight of responsibility sitting on my shoulders. All of it. Weighing down on me and making me feel like there was no way out.
“Looking for me?”
I came to a halt just outside Bob’s office, and blinked stupidly at her. “Yeah, I, um…”
“How was practice?” She studied me with a curious look, probably waiting for me to drop a new problem in her lap.
“Bad,” I replied, my shoulders sagging. “But nothing I can’t come back from.”
Just being in front of her sapped the tension from me, even with that questioning look she gave me.
“Okay,” she started slowly, and took the path back to her office. “What do you need me for then? We don’t have another session until tomorrow.”
Shit.
I just wanted to see her. Didn’t think so far as to make up an excuse for it. Now it hit me that would’ve probably been best, since she was all about the job.
I cleared my throat, started to say something, but came up blank. “Fuck it, I guess I wanted to talk to you. That’s all.”
She didn’t look at me, but her stride slowed and that’s how I knew she was listening. Her expression stayed neutral, and everything about her was the usual calm and collectedness I was used to.
“So… are you going to talk, or do you need me to start?”
I cradled my helmet in front of me and took a breath. “I called my mom today.”
The statement sat there, untouched, unmoving while we walked. The only reaction from Holly was the slightest nod.
“Haven’t spoken to her in… five years, I think. Before this morning.”
“Was she happy to hear from you?”
At first I thought she was kidding, but when I looked over I could tell it was an honest question. I shook my head slowly.
“Wouldn’t exactly call it that.”
We carried on in silence for a bit, and then she said, “And you’re here to blame me?”
“What? No.” I touched her arm, and she stopped walking. “I just– It’s not something I can just talk to the guys about, you know? And… I don’t know. I told you about her when we did that hospital trip.”
“And since I already know, you wanted… what? Therapy? A pep talk?”
“Maybe a little of both,” I admitted with a soft smile. “You’ve got that thing about you that just makes shit settle down, I don’t know.”
She returned my smile with more warmth than I expected, and said, “My thing is media, Hunter. Sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be much help in your family matters.”
“You don’t know that,” I said as we neared her office. “You haven’t even tried.”
