Wild Tendy (IceCats 2)

“Have you thought maybe they love you, the hockey player, and not you, Nico Merryweather?”

I pause. “Yeah, and I like that.” She smiles, and I curve my lips a bit. “I don’t want to put myself out there to be ridiculed or made fun of.”

“It’s a different world now, Nico.”

“But still an unkind one,” I answer back, and she nods, compassion on her face. Silence fills the space between us as I look around the conference room. It’s empty. Nothing that tells you anything about Dr. Jenkins. It’s plain, and for some reason, that bothers me. I want color in here.

“Can we try something?”

“What?” I ask as I look back at her. I’m a little nervous about what she’s gonna want me to do.

“I want you to confide in someone.”

“Confide?”

“About who you are. The real Nico.”

I blink at her. “Why in the hell would I do that?”

She just smiles. “I think it would help.”

“I don’t.”

She’s stern as she asks, “Is there someone you’d like to tell?”

Why in the hell am I thinking of Aviva? That girl won’t even give me the time of day. I doubt she’d care if I told her. She’d probably laugh in my face, think I’m lying. That it’s some ploy to get her to go out with me. Hey, it’s not a half-bad idea, in all honesty. I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you have a week. I won’t ask on Friday or Monday. But I will ask Wednesday, and I want you to have done it. I think this is something you really need to do to help yourself.”

I don’t agree at all. “I can’t tell my mom?”

She gives me a look. One of those no-nonsense looks. Kind of reminds me of Aviva. “Your mom is aware…and also has called me four times.”

I smile shyly. “She’s a mama bear.”

“To the fullest. I’m terrified of her,” she laughs, and I smile. “But that being said, I want to help. So, help me help you.”

Her words and request feel like a ton of bricks as I leave the conference room the IceCats let her use for our sessions. They want everything to be on-site, and I like it that way. I park my car, go to practice, go to therapy, go to lunch, and then go to meetings. It’s nice this way, and I like it. As I head through the halls of the IceCats’ compound, I realize I don’t know how I am supposed to do what Dr. Jenkins has asked. I don’t even know how to start that conversation. How do I bring up who I am, when I have been hiding it for so long?

I don’t want people to think differently of me.

Around the corner from the video room comes Chandler with our teammate, Kirby Litman. They both nod at me. “How’s it hanging, bro?”

“A wee bit to the left.”

“Mine’s to the right,” Chandler says.

“Mine’s at my knees.” Kirby laughs, and like the teenage-acting men we are, we snort with laughter. “You ready for some lunch?”

I nod. “Starved. How was tapes?”

“Boring as fuck,” Kirby says as we head to the lunchroom. “How was therapy?”

I shrug. Kirby bringing it up reminds me of Amaya’s request. I could tell them, but the thought makes me gag. Kirby is a showboat, loud as fuck, and loves to tease people. I don’t want him teasing me about this. He’s a good friend, but I can’t. I won’t. I could tell Chandler, but then he’s all sensitive and shit. He’ll probably feel sorry for me. My mind keeps circling back to Aviva. I don’t know, though. I don’t think she’d care.

“Therapeutic?”

They both chuckle. “Is that doctor still so fucking hot?”

“She isn’t ugly,” I comment with a smirk just as we enter the lunchroom. Out of nowhere, Jo, our player relations rep, stops in front of me. “You were right. Those subs are bomb dot com.”

I grin. “Aren’t they?”

“Now Ms. Pearce, she’s a tough cookie.”

My grin grows. “She gave you a hard time?”

“No, but she was stern, and she wouldn’t be lowballed. I tried because that’s my job, to save us money so we can pay you guys, but she wasn’t having it.”

Sounds about right. “Did you get her?”

“Yup, she’s gonna do it.”

Awesome.

* * *

When I pull into Willz’s parking lot, I see Callie outside at the patio table. The lot isn’t empty, so I’m unsure why she’s outside, but it is a beautiful day. I get out of my rental, heading toward her as she looks up. “Oh, thank God,” she gushes, and while I’m starving for a sub, I don’t mind sitting with her and helping her. Twenty minutes turns into an hour and then two. She’s smart as a whip, but math trips her up.

“I wish it was easy like gymnastics is for me. I hate math.”