Page 15 of You Had Me at Hockey

She lifts her head and grins. “True. I’ve been trying out different kinds of milk, but I don’t think they have soy or almond milk here.”

“I’m kidding. You do you.”

When the waitress returns, we both order burgers and fries. Wagyu beef, no less.

“How long have you been doing…this?” I ask.

“This?” She smiles again. “The videos, the podcasts…?”

“Yeah.”

“I started doing videos when I was in high school. They were just stupid little videos I did for fun with my friends. But in my freshman year at college, I was having a hard time adjusting…and I got depressed.”

She says this matter-of-factly, which makes me think she’s probably talked about it a lot.

“It was pretty bad, and I didn’t really get it because I wasn’t unhappy. So I decided to take up making videos again and started a YouTube channel. My best friend helped me with them and I actually got excited about something, so I kept going. I had no idea it was going to turn into…this.” She waves a hand. “At first I was putting on makeup and doing my hair and making sure everything was perfect and then…I got exhausted. I was uploading so many videos and I didn’t have time for all that bullshit, so I just started being myself.”

“That’s pretty awesome.”

“I love doing it. But it also kills me, you know?” She tips her head to one side. “You’re a famous athlete. We talked about pressure earlier. So you must get it.”

“I guess. Do your fans pressure you?”

“My fans are great, mostly. But of course there are haters. Social media can be really fucking hard sometimes. People send me nasty tweets and leave terrible comments on my videos.” She makes a face. “It can really fuck you up.”

“Yeah. I’ve seen a few guys get themselves in trouble on social media.”

“Right?” Her eyes widen. “It’s wonderful but it’s awful too. Luckily, my skin has gotten thicker over the years. For a while, I wondered what the heck I was doing. Like, why? What am I giving people? And then I realized that by just being myself I was giving girls the message that it’s okay to be yourself, with all your flaws, and wear whatever you want and not wear makeup if you don’t feel like it.”

I let her words sink in, because I’ve treated this podcast like a fun little break in my schedule with this woman who’s famous for…what? I didn’t even know. But I get it. She’s actually delivering something worthwhile. And that’s pretty cool.

“So…” I pause.

“What?”

“If you’re like every other girl and so relatable…how many of them get to interview NHL players?”

She leans forward. “Yes! That’s it exactly! That’s my struggle lately. I get invited to all kinds of events, like Fashion Week and the Winter Ball and movie premieres, and I’m interviewing people like you! That’s the absurdity of it! The more famous I get, the more I get to do these crazy things that aren’t, well, relatable. And…pressure. Well, mostly, I pressure myself.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “Sometimes I get so anxious when I’m editing a video because of the expectations I put on myself and I put so much work into it, it actually sends me into another pit of depression.” She meets my eyes. “Usually this is when guys get scared and leave.”

I’m silent, processing that and trying to figure out how to respond. Since she’s so honest, I figure I should be too. “I have no desire to leave.”

Her slow smile is luminous. Our eyes meet across the small table. “Thanks. I’m a mess, but I can be fun.”

“We’re all a mess, in some way.”

She nods slowly. “Yeah. I think that’s one reason a lot of people like my stuff. They can relate.”

I can definitely see that.

“And lately,” she continues, “I feel pressure from my publicist. She wants me to be different.” She shakes her head. “I just want to be me.”

Our burgers arrive so we pause the conversation as the waitress asks if we need anything else. Sara asks for a coffee refill, which is done right away.

“So how areyoua mess, Josh Heller?” Sara picks up a fry with her fingers.

“Eh.” She puts herself out there, but I’m not sure I’m ready to do that. That’s a lot for the first time you meet someone. She doesn’t need to hear about how I just want to be like I was before the accident. “Being traded sucks.”

“Right.” She nods. “I bet people don’t think of the players’ personal lives when that happens. People are sad or mad or happy for their team, I guess.”

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