Page 16 of Stroked Long
Eva and I are discussing color schemes when Bodi chimes in by clearing his throat. We both stop our chatter and turn to him. “We could call it Pennies for Paint STROKES. Keep the word stroke all capital.”
Eva and I turn to each other just in time to see both our faces light with glee. “Brilliant!” Eva shouts, drawing attention to our table.
I’m impressed, really impressed actually. I turn to tell Bodi what a fantastic name it is, and I’m surprised to see him looking at me. His face is still half hidden beneath his cap, but I see just the smallest of grins on his face. If I hadn’t looked at that very moment, I would have missed it, because he barely made a motion with his lips.Stunning. And he was looking at me. Smiling.Thatlittle tweak I was able to catch makes all the difference in my day. It has gone from humdrum to extraordinary.Bodi Banks smiled at me.
Chapter Four
BODI
“How’s your week been?” Dr. Auburn asks, holding his pen over his notepad, poised and ready to take notes.
“Eventful,” I answer, staring at my hands in my lap.
Therapy, even though it’s the right thing for me to do, is awful. I hate the sessions. Every time I talk to Dr. Auburn, a wave of anxiety takes over my entire body and all I want to do is flee, run for my damn life until the pain eases in my chest.
But that’s not an option.
I go to therapy not because I want to, and not because I feel like it’s helping, but because Eva has begged and pleaded with me to go.
Has there been a change in my behavior over the past ten years of seeing Dr. Auburn—yes, ten years? Maybe. I still feel the pain of my parents’ death every day. I still carry the weight of their murder on my shoulders, and even though I’ve controlled some of my tendencies to help me function on an everyday level and compete in swimming, I still have obsessions that are not going anywhere anytime soon.
“Eventful? Well, that’s a different word that I’m used to you saying.”
Pinching my palm with my right hand, a nervous tick I have, I answer honestly, “We are starting a new foundation for the Boys and Girls Club. Eva has put me in charge along with someone else.”
“A new journey, how does that make you feel?”
“Nervous, anxious, out of control,” I answer. It’s the same feeling I have every time something new comes around. The unknown is the scariest feeling I will ever face. I know I can’t predict the future or see too far into it, but if I was given a superhuman strength, that would be mine, so I could prepare for the battle I’m about to face. Nothing makes me shiver more than facing something new and unfamiliar.
“All the regular trepidations you face. Are you writing it down in your journal? How you’re feeling?”
“No.” I fucking hate that piece-of-shit journal. It serves no purpose other than make me want to chuck it against the wall.
“Why not?”
“I don’t see how it helps. I just end up writing the same sentence three times in a row because I’m fucked up in the head.”
Threes. It’s how I live my life and when I’m stressed and anxious, the way I conduct my life in threes weighs heavy on me. Unlock my car three times, pat myself dry after I get out of the pool three times, change in and out of my suit three times, do an exercise three times. It’s delayed my life but I’ve learned to accommodate, my coach has helped with that.
“What have we talked about when you start doing repetitions? Have you assessed your mental status when you start doing everything in threes?”
I’m not fucking stupid. I know when my repetition kicks in, when I’m stressed, anxious, and scared of the unknown. Jesus, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. But what’s killing me recently, all three have weighed heavily on me thanks to the upcoming games and this new project Eva started, causing me to pick up on repetition.
“I know when I do it. I’m aware the kind of anxiety I have right now, but there is no way I can calm it. The games are coming up and working with someone else on this project is new. It . . .” I pause for a second as I try to think about my feelings. I continue to pinch my palm, now doing short bursts of threes. “It terrifies me.”
Dr. Auburn makes a note as he nods his head. “Does the new endeavor terrify you, or does working with someone else terrify you?”
Does a quirky blonde with brown-rimmed glasses and the inability to stop talking terrify me?
More than I care to admit.
“Working with someone else.”
“Okay.” He nods. “Have you met this person yet?”
“Yes.”
Dr. Auburn lifts his head and looks at me over his glasses. Pushing them up his nose and then carefully folding his hands on top of each other, he gives me a questioning once over. “Care to talk about this person? Is it a girl?”
