Twenty-Three

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I knelt on both knees, my head barely hovering above the toilet seat. I was throwing up, again.

I almost always did this before every game, getting the nerves out. That's why I always ate so much before a game— so I wasn't dry heaving, which was definitely worse than just throwing up.

I sat back on my butt & wiped my mouth with a napkin, sighing heavily.

You got this, Maya.

This was the first time I had thrown up more than once before a game. It was my first game back after my concussion and the very first round of playoffs, so my nerves had been multiplied by a thousand.

My mind raced back through my dad's letter & knowing my mom would be anxiously waiting in the stands to watch me tonight.

The little waves in my stomach suddenly began to calm down. I stood up, grabbed my helmet, and ran out of the girls locker room, ready to go into battle.

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