Page 82 of Game Point
On the other, I could see why she had struggled to keep a coach around. She was headstrong and seemed to always have a counter argument to everything I instructed. Somehow, it only made me admire her more.
And there were the short skirts. The crop tops. The knowledge of what the scraps of materials covered threatening to bring me to my knees. Those were their own form of torture.
‘That’s not how I remember it,’ she said, my heart skipping a beat at the brilliant smile across her lips. ‘I didn’t expect this to turn into a full slumber party kind of vibe.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean,’ she motioned wildly around the living room, ‘the candles. The journaling. The cushions. What arewe going to do? Huddle around to talk about our latest crushes and how good Nico Kotas looks in those short shorts?’
I looked around the room, the lights dimmed, one or two candles lit on the coffee table, two new notebooks I’d picked up during our last visit to the store. The playlist running in the background.Okay, maybe I could understand the vibe.
‘No,’ I said, ‘And Nico? Really? He’s like a hundred.’
Dylan looked at me a little too gleefully. ‘He’s only a few years older than you.’
‘What would Scottie say about you discussing her partner?’ I pointed out. She only waved me off.
‘She’d be the one leading the conversation. The girl is obsessed. It’s gross,’ Dylan retorted. I couldn’t help but laugh.
‘The slumber party vibe wasn’t what I was going for,’ I explained. ‘But I wanted to set a nice mood for your first journaling session.’ Dylan’s response was immediate, her body slumping, her eyes rolling deeply.
‘Are we really going to do this?’ she asked, before continuing, her tone of voice sweet and high pitched as she mimicked, ‘Dear Diary, today Coach Anderson was a dick and made me run crosscourt and down-the-line until I wanted to die. And then friend Oliver made me write in a diary like a little girl.’
‘Actually,’ I corrected, ‘this is more Amy’s fault.’
Amy was the sports psychologist we were working with to help Dylan with the stress and anxiety that seemed to plague her during the tournaments. With Amy’s help and guidance, I hoped to limit the effect this could have on theoutcome, giving her a decent chance of getting through the final without the shadow of self-doubt creeping over her confidence.
‘Yeah, but you’re the idiot making me do it,’ she replied.
‘It’sgoingto help.’
‘If I wanted to talk about my feelings, I’d give my therapist a call.’
‘You don’t have to talk about them, you write them down,’ I said, before pointing to her head. ‘Get the thoughts out of your brain.’
She started again with a high-pitched voice. ‘Dear diary, I think Oliver is stupid.’
‘If that’s how you feel, then write it.’ I started to regret ever suggesting the idea. It was one of themanyideas Amy had suggested, journaling considered to be one the easiest and most effective ones. Apparently, whoever had decided that hadn’t tried to get Dylan Bailey to take up the practice. ‘It’s about getting into the habit while things are calm. And when the slam begins, you are already doing it. It can really help.’
‘Why are there two?’ she asked, sitting down next to the coffee table.
‘Well, I figured you’d say it’s stupid, so I’m doing it with you,’ I said. ‘At least if you think it’s dumb, we are being dumb together.’
‘It’s not that it’s dumb,’ she said. ‘It’s a waste of my time.’
‘Will it be a waste of your time if you win?’ I looked directly at her. Her gaze leaving mine, exploring the room looking for something else to cling on to, her jaw setting with reluctance. I continued, ‘No? Then let’s at least try.’
She bit her lip, searching for any excuse. She obviously came up empty. ‘Fine. But we are doing something fun after this.’
I forced a fake gasp, clicking my fingers. ‘There goes my plan to get you to meditate.’
She laughed. ‘You’d have to wrestle me to the ground.’ I sat down on the opposite side of the coffee table, stretching out my legs as she kept talking. ‘Jon tried to make me do yoga for a training camp. I kept getting a cramp in my leg and kicking everyone around me.’
‘Sure, cramp. That’s what we are calling it.’
‘It’s weird. I clear my mind and I get strangely violent.’
I hummed, beginning to question this entire thing. ‘Technically this isn’t about clearing your mind, just getting your anxiety out.’
