Page 58 of Crazy in Love

“Hey, Gimpy,” she greeted. Judging by her smile, her burden seemed to have lightened.

“Hi, Hope. How have you been?”

“Good. Started volleyball practices, so I only work weekends now. Americano?”

“Yes, please.” He pulled out his wallet and paid.

“Actually,” she said. “I’m glad you came in. I have a favor to ask.”

“Okay.”

“I’m on student council, and we’re all in charge of getting a chaperone for the homecoming dance next Friday. Would you be willing?”

“Me? Why not your sister? Or your dad?” Or anyone but him.

“Faith’s busy, and my dad’s not ready for that yet.” She did a pouty little thing with her lips that he assumed was her go-to method for getting what she wanted. “Plus, you’re cool and won’t be some fuddy-duddy that wants the music turned down.”

“All right. I guess so. I should even be able to drive by then.”

“Awesome. Thanks. Oh, and don’t say anything to Faith, okay? I don’t want to hurt her feelings that I didn’t ask her.”

“I thought you said she was busy.”

“She is. But, like, I don’t want her to feel totally replaceable, ya know?”

His internal lie detector pinged, but he couldn’t see what she’d be lying about. He side-eyed her, about to start an interrogation, when the barista at the end of the counter called out.

“GVF High Dance Chaperone?”

Hope winked. “I knew you’d say yes. Wear something nice,” she said before turning to the person in line behind him.

The next day, he entered Faith’s office, ready to give her “alternative” healing methods a chance. They sat on the floor, facing each other, as she recapped a previous lecture about the mind-body connection and its importance to healing.

“I’ve changed my mind already,” Nick said, adjusting his leg, struggling to find a comfortable position. Seven days out from surgery and the muscle was still pretty tender.

“Just close your eyes and breathe,” she said calmly, not opening her eyes.

“This is killing my leg.”

She cracked an eye open, then stood. “Let’s get you into a chair. You won’t be able to focus if you’re in pain.” He allowed her to help him up and into the soft chair in the corner. She sat back on the floor in front of him.

“Better?” she asked. And at his nod, continued. “All right. Relax and breathe. In and out.”

He felt stupid, but he’d sworn to do whatever he could to get better fast. He took a couple of hasty breaths, but apparently, she was watching or listening closely.

“Deep, long inhales through your nose,” she said. “Slow, long exhales out your mouth. Like this.” She demonstrated a breath cycle, and he closed his eyes and tried again. After a few good breaths, his shoulders did relax a little.

She spoke softly. “I want you to picture yourself at the summit of a mountain. No cane. No pain. You just climbed to the top. Think about how you got there. Think about the climb. Is it cold or hot? Are you sweating? Is it windy?” Pause. “How do you feel? Breathless? Exhilarated? Is the view pretty?”

He chanced a peek. She sat with eyes closed, legs crossed, back straight, and head held high. She was beautiful. Yes, the view was pretty, but he was sure that’s not what she meant. He shut his eyes and refocused.

Visualization was something he knew about. Or had heard of anyway. Big-time athletes used it to improve performance. And while he’d never tried it, hehadhiked all over Green Valley Fallsand had a particular place in mind when he thought about a mountain view.

“Okay. Um, it’s fall, and the leaves have turned. Yes, it’s pretty.”

“Good. What are you wearing?” she asked.

“Wait. This isn’t turning into some kinky sexual thing, is it?”

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