Page 42 of Your Play to Call
I don’t know what to tell her. This thing between us is so new. Does she really want to hear about this? Panic attacks? Over something as ridiculous as a bed that’s too big.
“Tripp. What’s wrong?” She says it in a way that makes me want to tell her everything.
“I have panic attacks. I just need to talk. Or listen to someone talk. I can’t explain it but this fucking hotel room. It’s emptyand—”
“Tripp. Take a breath. You’re okay,” Willow interrupts my barely coherent rant. “I’m here.”
And I do. I take deep breaths.
“Is this something that happens often?” she lightly presses.
“It used to.” I stare at the floor. “I’ve done therapy on and off when it becomes an issue. But it’s been a while.”
“Are you nervous for tomorrow?”
“No. Not really. I feel like this game is one thing that I’m good at. I’m a key part of the team and they need me.”
“Well, you’re good at other things. Like singing,” she jokes, and it brings me back to her piano. The lightness I felt when she played music and I sang along. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I sigh like a dramatic teenager.
“People don’t play football forever. I’ve been thinking about what happens after this. And when I saw this stupid fucking bed it just made me feel like… I’m all by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous and it doesn’t make sense but it’s all I got.”
“It doesn’t sound ridiculous. You don’t want to be alone.”
“No, I don’t,” I say, my voice quiet.
Alone. My mind races. Did I go about this the wrong way? I’ve done nothing but pour myself into a game, a thing that is temporary. It’s always been this way, but I’ve acted like it’s forever. Me. My mom. Football.
The list is small.
“You’re not alone. I’m here. I wish I was there with you.”
“This doesn’t scare you? Me, calling you in the middle of the night because I’m spiraling? You probably thought I had a better grasp on all of this.”
Willow laughs. Actually laughs.
“What? Why are you laughing?” Insecurity runs through my blood.
“I shouldn’t laugh but I like that you think everyone has it together besides you. No one knows what’s going on. Tripp, hear me when I say this, this doesn’t scare me. Not at all.”
A wave of relief runs over me, and I can feel my shoulders moving away from my ears.
“Are you sure?” I’m a needy bastard right now.
“I’m sure. So sure. If you were perfect this would be so boring.”
To my surprise, I laugh. Just for a second. But this is the distraction I need.
“Is there anything I can do to help right now?”
Two choices: I can tell her that I’m fine, when I’m not and wrap this call up. or I can tell her what I need.
I’ve been honest up until this point. Don’t see the need to change it. “Can you tell me a story? Distract me.”
“Sure can. How about the time I was a concert opener and the headliner got too drunk? Do you know this one?”
“No. Tell me everything.”