I tell Dr. Trent about my panic attack on the street with Ross and Bianca and Birdie. And I keep my word to Birdie and tell her about my excessive training. I don't love doing it, but I do. She gives me a number and a referral for a different nutritionist, one that isn't a part of the team. I don't love the team nutritionist, a man in his late thirties with bulging muscles and a tough demeanor. I've learned to tolerate the unease he gives me, answering his questions as quickly as possible so my interactions with him can stay as quick as possible. Ross ensures me he's not a bad guy but he has a gruff voice and a stern face and I don't know if I agree.
But I leave Dr. Trent's office with a prescription. The same anti anxiety meds I'm already on but a higher dose. The same dose she put me on after Drew passed.
I know the increase doesn't necessarily mean I'm failing but I can't help but feel that way.
"Holt." My mom says my name gently as we sit in the auditorium where Vida's game is.
Nico's beside me, TikTok videos playing on a relentless stream. My dad's on the edge of the court, even though we all know at some point he'll get kicked off and forced back to the bleachers because he's more of a distraction than a help. And Vida's on the court, warming up as she sinks balls with accuracy.
"Hmm?" I mumble, studying Vida's form because at least if my thoughts are filled with basketball that means they're not filled with Austin.
At least until my mom tells me "the lawyers want to meet again this week."
I have an unlistened to voicemail on my phone from them. Probably telling me whatever my mom is about to tell me. I take a deep breath, hoping it steadies me for whatever it is.
"They want to start going over what you're going to say in your victims statement."
I nod my head. Here's the thing about Austin. Even with him in jail, I'm still being forced to do things I don't want to. I never wanted to take him to court in the first place. If he would have just disappeared I would have done the same but then he showed up at one of my games, stealing any security I was trying to hold on to. So I agreed and I suffered through a painful and traumatizing legal battle where I had to sit in the same room as my rapist. I had to listen to him talk about me, trying to discredit me. I was just an unruly teen, defiant with a problem obeying authority and a chronic runway. And Austin was just the kind hearted Uncle who took in his problem nephew he had never met.
Hearing the judge say guilty was one of the most overwhelming moments of my life, it felt unfeasible, impossible, a far off unachievable wish.
"Okay." I say it mostly to the ground, my shoulders sagging as I do.
I hear the breath she takes, the sigh that leaves her, one that's a little sad and full of sympathy. Her hand squeezes my arm and I place my other hand on top.
Shoes squeak against the polished wood floor before me and even though Austin wants to run rampant in my mind I force myself to watch Vida. A whistle sounds shrill through the gymnasium, a noise I'm well acquainted with but it still causes my muscles to tense.
Vida's team huddles, surrounding the coach before they break, Vida stays on the court. Her blond hair is slicked back into a tight bun, it makes her look sharper than she is, her face stern and focused as she takes her position on the floor. The ball gets sent into motion, my dad's voice echoing through the open space as he shouts "Let's go V!"
My eyes track her, watching how she moves, anticipating the game and I feel my mom lean closer to me.
"I found another place we should look at for a dog." She says into my ear.
Nodding my head, I tighten my hand that's over hers.
"Sometime this week?"
She looks at me hopefully and I try my best to give her a real smile as I say "sounds great".
I still don't think I'll find another dog that comes close to Blue but I owe my mom everything and if she wants to search every inch of the world looking, I will.
The gymnasium erupts in noise, my dad's voice at the top as Vida's team gets control of the ball, the opposing team's defense is tight making it a challenge for any of our players to get open. Vida included.
"Come on V!" My dad shouts, his hands cupped around his mouth as he stands at the sidelines. "Get open!"
He's not wrong. There's something about Vida this season that's caught my eye. She's playing good for everyone else but she's not playing great for Vida. She's distracted and behind, lagging just a touch with a general lack of fierceness to her play.
It's slowly progressed as each game has passed. I don't know if anyone else has noticed, it's subtle enough that they probably haven't.
But I have.
