Page 26 of Silent Count
“Good to know.” She smiles, then clears her throat. “Okay, so let’s get to it. You only have an hour and a half before you need to leave for practice, right?”
I look at my watch, then pull out my phone from my backpack to set my timer so I know when we need to start wrapping up. Because the truth is, I could sit here all day and hang out with her and lose track of time completely. “Yeah, do you think we’ll have time to get through all of it?”
“Oh, yeah. There’s not a ton to go over here. I really just want to see where you are in terms of understanding the material.” She flips through a few pages of her notebook. “Do you think it’s just a lack of interest in the class?”
“Maybe. I’m not really sure.” I shrug and pull out my notebook and pen. “I’ve just never really been into overanalyzing feelings and whatnot.”
“That’s not uncommon for men actually. And specifically, athletes, so I thought about that a little and came up with an idea. We’ll incorporate sports into the lessons so it’s more relatable to you. Because it’s not reallyallabout feelings; it’s more about how to process and understand the information that your brain is receiving and the factors that influence it. Does that make sense?” She studies my face.
I nod. “Yeah, that makes total sense. I guess I didn’t really think about it from that perspective. I hear psychology and automatically think that we’re going to dig into feelings andemotions. And it’s not that I minimize my or others’ feelings. I just have always been able to compartmentalize it a little easier than some, I guess.”
“Interesting. Well, I’m curious about how your mind works, so let’s get started.”
She takes a drink of her chai, and then we do just that.
An hour later, we’ve finished going through my notes and hers, but neither of us seems to be in a hurry to leave. And I want to get to know her better.
“So, Chelsea, tell me more about you. I know you’re from Florida. Were you born and raised there?” I ask.
She nods somewhat cautiously. “I am, and, yes, I was born and raised there too.”
“What part of Florida? I’ve only been there a few times, so I don’t really know anywhere, except Miami, Tampa, and Jacksonville.”
“I’m from Naples, on the southwest coast.” She’s pretty short on her responses, not giving me a lot, but she doesn’t seem mad that I’m asking.
“I haven’t been there. Is it nice?” I reach over and take the last little piece from the second cookie.
“Ah, yeah, it’s nice. Hot, humid, beachy. Typical Florida. A lot of wealthy people live there. It’s referred to as the Beverly Hills of the East Coast or something.” She lifts one shoulder and smirks.
“The humidity in Florida is a killer. So, what does your dad do?”
I’m curious only because Chelsea doesn’t come across as a spoiled rich kid. But when I look at her, she seems uncomfortable, shifting in her seat.
“Um, I was raised by my aunt. She’s a pediatrician. We’re notrich, rich like some of the kids I went to school with, but she has a very successful practice. She’s the best pediatrician in Florida, in my opinion, not that I’m biased or anything.” She tilts her head, smiling.
As much as I want to ask more about why she was raised by her aunt, I won’t. Today. I remember a woman and a younger girl with her when she moved into the apartment last year, but I assumed it was her mom because we weren’t introduced. “What’s your major?”
“I’m prelaw. Walker has one of the best programs for prelaw studies.”
“That’s cool. I didn’t know that about the prelaw program.” I nod. “You have a sister, right? Your aunt and sister … they were here when you and Noelle moved in last year?”
She smiles genuinely then and nods. “I have a little sister, who I guess isn’t so little anymore. She’s turning eighteen next week.”
“Eighteen, huh? Big birthday.”
I watch as she starts to pack up her bag, but halfway through, she pauses, her hand resting on the zipper. She exhales throughher nose, eyes flicking down, like she’s debating whether to tell me something. Finally, she looks back up.
“It is. I’m going to go home this weekend to celebrate. I’ll be back early on Sunday though, so it’s a quick trip.”
“So, you’ll miss our first game of the season?” I’m disappointed she won’t be there. I don’t have the right to be disappointed, but I am nonetheless. “That’s a bummer.”
“Yeah, I know. I don’t have student tickets anyway, so I probably wouldn’t have gone. No offense.” She lifts her shoulder.
“None taken. But whenever you want to come to a game, say the word. I can get you tickets. I’m sure you could go with Charlie and Noelle too, right?”
“Okay, thanks. Yeah, I went with them a few times last year.” She nods.
“I remember. You had a cute little beanie with one of those balls on the top.” I want to make it clear to her that I notice her—have noticed her.
