Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)
“What would you know about athletes?”
“I’m a sports psychologist, which means I specialize in high-profile clients who deal with stressors not typical of a normal person. I’ve worked with the NFL and NBA. Although I’m new to F1, I can assure you I’ll be tuning in on Sundays now.”
Well, it seems like Tom has some credentials to his name. “Fabulous.”
“So, why do you think you’re here?” He clasps his hands together.
“Because Connor is in the mood to get his arse kicked.”
Tom raises a brow.
I continue. “And in case you aren’t aware, I don’t want to be here. This is the biggest waste of an hour when I have limited time as it is.”
“Noted. I only hope with time, you grow to enjoy our sessions together. My job is to help make your time with F1 easier rather than harder.” His smile reaches his eyes.
“My life would be easier if I didn’t have to be forced to do this every week.”
Tom leans forward in his chair, his gaze easing my discomfort. “I understand it’s not exactly what you want. No one likes to be forced into anything, especially something requiring you to express private thoughts with a stranger. If you don’t mind me asking, what about this process feels forced to you?”
“Connor made me come. Literally. It’s in my contract.” I tug on my hair.
“Although it’s a part of your contract, whatever you want to talk about is up to you. Is there anything at all that you would want to get out of coming to these weekly sessions?”
“Besides surviving an hour under your microscope?”
Tom chuckles. “I’m here for whatever you need. My job isn’t to assess you, but rather assist you through the process of coping with major stressors—both on the track and in your life.”
“Sounds dandy.” Sounds like a nightmare, but Tom isn’t on a need to know basis.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to set some goals for treatment. It’s something I do with all my clients.”
“Easy. Goal 1: survive this season. Goal 2: kick everyone else’s arse. Goal 3: win another World Championship.”
He tilts his head. “Are all of your goals related to F1?”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“No, it’s typical of athletes. You might find yourself having your goals change once you attend more sessions and grow more comfortable with me.”
“Swell.” I lean my head against the couch as I begin to count ceiling tiles.
“This is your hour to do whatever you want and say whatever you feel, Jax. Take advantage or stay silent.”
“You won’t force me to talk?” I cross my arms.
“I’ll probably ask you some questions, but you have the right to refuse them. Like I said, this is your hour to make of it what you may.”
“Then, I prefer silence, thank you very much.”
“Very well.” Tom keeps to his word, staying quiet for the remainder of our time.
Somehow an hour goes by faster than expected, with me counting ceiling tiles to pass the time.
“Same time next week?” Tom offers me his palm as I exit the room.
I take it and give it a good shake. “Sure. Not like I have a choice.”
“We all have choices in life. You made a choice not to speak, like I made a choice to stay quiet. The mistake people make is thinking they don’t have any other options. There are always alternatives, they’re just not always the easiest.”