I can’t breathe.
I’m dying again. I don’t want to die again.
“Nicky!” Coach’s voice is sharp. Clear. “Nicky, listen to me.”
I try to zero in on the sound, the words. It feels like my entire body is being submerged over and over again in an unknown fear. It clings and drips from me, and I can’t get it off.
“Nicky! You’re having a panic attack.” Coach is in my face. I can see the fine lines around the corner of his blue eyes. Eyes narrowed with concern and intently focused on me. I stare at them, noticing the striations and variations of color because I can’t do anything else. “That’s right,” he goes on. “Just look at me and listen to my voice.”
There’s a navy ring around the iris I’ve never noticed before. Probably an odd time to do so now, but I’m desperate. I latch onto looking at him and think about what I want my body to do.
“Good,” Coach goes on. “Whatever you’re doing is good. How’s his pulse?”
Coach’s eyes flick to the side, and mine follow. Doc is there, staring at his watch. “Still tachycardic—high, but it’s dropping.”
“Breathe, Nicky,” Coach instructs, and I feel the weight of his hand on my chest. I want to obey the command, but his eyebrows wrinkle, and I know it means something’s wrong. “No, no, no, no. Your heart’s fine, it’s not in danger. It’s working hard right now because you’re stuck between fight and flight. So, you’ve got to pick one, Nicky. Either way, we’ve got you.”
Fingers push harder against my neck, and I follow them to their owner: Doc. He’s monitoring me. Slowly, other people become clearer in the haze: Charlie, Crosby, Gus, Obie, Leo—even Robbie. And as they do, the numbness and desperation begin to dissipate.
“Heart rate’s leveling out,” Doc says. “You’re doing good, kid.”
“C’mon, Nicky, breathe with me.” Coach taps his hand gently on my chest, pulling my attention to the exaggerated way he sucks in a breath and lets it back out. I watch a couple more times before I can feel my body begin to follow the example. Thewhooshing hum in my ears shifts to the loud sounds of everyone around me, guiding my breathing. “That’s it.”
Now feeling more in control, I shut my eyes and let myself inhale. It’s shaky and shallow, but I can actually sense the oxygen filling my lungs before I let it out. I try again, drawing deeper and not noticing a hitch this time. As everything around me sharpens, snapping back into reality, the tension deflates. Slowly, Doc and Coach help me sit up, leaning me against the bench I was sitting on before this episode. Coach rises, dropping back to my gathered teammates.
“I don’t think you’re skating today,” Doc tells me, a gentle hand resting on my shoulder. I nod, dropping my gaze. He slowly gets up from the floor, reaching for something from another member of the training staff. “Got some juice and a snack. I want you to finish both before you try to get up.”
“Got it, Doc.” He ambles away, back toward the ice where I know the rest of the team is. Only my friends are still near the locker room, waiting for me, and I’m very grateful they’ll be the only witnesses to my embarrassment.
There are murmurs as I twist the top on a bottle of apple juice, the too-sweet taste a jolt to my system. But I chug half the bottle before opening the package of graham crackers. As I munch on the first one, Charlie awkwardly drops onto the floor beside me.
“You scared the shit out of me.” The fear wrapped in anger lacing his words has the graham cracker turning to ash in my mouth. Charlie’s brows are dropped low, his lips pressed together, and his pale skin is flushed in patches.
“It scared me, too,” I confess, washing the cracker down with the last of the juice. I’m not sure what else to say, but it’s honest. I can’t find it in me to apologize for something I couldn’t control and wasn’t anticipating. But I know my friend is hurting, so Igive him more truth. “I was nervous this morning, and I thought it would go away. I thought I was ready.”
I wrap my arm around Charlie’s shoulders, squeezing through the pads in recognition of his feelings. He bobs his head. Slowly, the rest of my friends gather around me, and I take the time to look at each of them. They’re all wearing similar expressions of concern. I eat the guilt it brings with the last graham cracker.
“Obie, call upstairs and ask Bea to come down,” Crosby says, going into captain mode. Obie crosses to the phone on the wall and dials the extension. Without prompting, Gus kneels and begins unlacing my skates. I feel like a helpless kid, but I don’t reach out to stop him. Leo slides behind me and begins pulling my street clothes from the rack. He lays them next to me.
“She’s not in the office,” Obie says.
“What?” Free of my skates and feeling more like myself, I stand. Charlie hoists himself up beside me, and we both look at our defenseman. Bea should be upstairs; it hasn’t been that long since we both got here.
Right? Why isn’t she there?
“The new guy at the department desk—Andrew, I think—said she left about ten minutes ago.”
CHAPTER 25
BEA
“Ihear Nicky’s back in the building today.”
I look up from the email I’m not actually responding to. Ava is leaning against the doorframe of my office. She’s effortlessly chic and commanding in black wide-leg trousers and a periwinkle sweater that manages to bring out the golden undertones of her shoulder-length blonde hair.
“He is,” I reply, gesturing to the chairs in front of my desk. Ava gives a smile and crosses to one, dropping into it gracefully from her towering height with four-inch heels. I’ve been back in the office for about three weeks, and everyone—especially Ava—has been exceedingly professional. Unfailingly polite and accommodating to the point of discomfort. My schedule has been reduced to sending press briefs, issuing reporter credentials, and monitoring posts flagged by our social media department. No one wants to intrude or give me more work than they think I can handle. It’s been boring as hell, making me long to be anywhere else. I feel no drive, no desire to make more of what is right in front of me.
“That’s good. I’m happy to see that his recovery is going well.” Ava crosses her legs, folding her hands into her lap.
