Page 40 of Stroked Long
“She’s witnessed two almost panic attacks but I’ve been able to control them.” I pause and think why I was able to control the panic from taking over my being. “Somehow, she’s known what to do or not to do, and the panic hasn’t overwhelmed me.”
Coach is silent for a second; it’s obvious he’s mulling this over.
“Say something,” I cut in, hating the silence.
“Are you interested in her romantically?”
And there it is, the question Eva keeps asking me.
Am I? Obviously there is an attraction I can’t seem to put behind me now I’ve let myself accept my feelings for her, but I believe I would be a toxic addition to her easy-going, happy little world.
“No,” I answer.
“Are not interested because you don’t think she’s beautiful, inside and out, or because you’re too scared to let yourself be happy?”
Why does this feel like a session with Dr. Auburn?
“With all due respect, Coach, what does this have to do with swimming?”
Without skipping a beat, he responds, “What do I always tell you about your mental game?”
“That swimming can be eighty percent mental.”
“Exactly.” He sighs. I can imagine him squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Ruby is a new addition to your daily life, and I can already see the positive way it is affecting your swimming. I need you to acknowledge this, to realize she’s had a positive impact on your sport, despite not seeing it right away.”
“I see what you’re talking about, but you need to know it’s not going to be an everlasting thing. She’s just working with me on the foundation for now.”
“And what will be your mental state when she’s no longer working with you?”
Fucking good question.
Last night when she texted me, a little piece of me—a piece I’ve never felt before—got excited from the prospect of talking to her sooner than expected. Presented with a rare opportunity, I concentrated on being a lighter version of myself, the same man who joked with her at her apartment. Unfortunately, our text messaging wasn’t very long. Was it me who made it awkward first? I’m damn good at doing that.
Not sure what to say, I answer honestly. “I don’t know, Coach. All I know is I enjoy her company when she’s around.”
“Fair enough.” Being the man he is, he asks, “This isn’t going to affect your swimming in a negative way, is it?”
A laugh escapes me as I relax. Inquisition over. “No. Have I ever let anything bother my swimming?”
Coach and I both know I haven’t. I’ve maintained a steady mental game my entire life. Even when my parents died I showed no difference in my swimming. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or if it’s some kind of early warning sign of a sociopath. When I’m in the pool, I zone out. It’s my one and only place where I can feel complete calm.
“You haven’t, so don’t let this be the first.” His voice is light and teasing.
“Nothing you have to worry about.”
There is a knock on my door, and just like that, I can feel my entire body stiffen, knowing Ruby is on the other side.
“Hey, I’ve got to go.”
“Okay, you’ve got tomorrow off; use it wisely.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
Quickly I hang up. Standing, nerves shaking my bones, I feel the normal anxiety associated with holding a conversation.
There is no need to do another sweep around the condo; I cleaned it three times before coach called making sure it was spotless. Everything is locked up for the night, I only have to worry about the door, and my nightly call to Eva has already been conducted. I called early, shocking the shit out of her and me. The only reason I broke my rule was because I didn’t want to have to talk to Eva when Ruby was here. Eva did promise to send another pic of her alarm at eighty thirty though to keep me at ease.
Pizza is in the oven, table is set, water is chilled, and I even bought a six-pack of root beer, hoping she likes it. It’s the one and only soda I will indulge in every once in a while, and to top it off, I bought the ingredients to make a chocolate mousse out of coconut milk, topped with fresh raspberries. Those are chilling in the fridge as well.
