Page 75 of Facing Off
“No. It’smyproblem to figure out. I don’t want to stress any of them out more than they already are. With how our last season went and these trade rumors already flying around, it’s bad enough already.”
“That makes sense,” she says, nodding to herself. “You’re the captain. You want to handle your responsibility on your own. Tell me more about this World Hockey Championship thing.”
“No. That’s—” I clear my throat, hiding a flinch. “That’s a separate issue. It has to do with my past.”
She nods again. “You should forget anything in your past that holds you back. That’s what I’ve done.”
“What happened in your past, darling?”
“What past? I don’t have a past.”
I can’t help but laugh and shake my head. Her deadpan is unbelievable. Admirable, even.
Sonya’s mouth twitches. “Exactly my point. Now youwant to be strong for the team, right? I can…help with that.”
“How?”
“It might not seem like it—theseblockshave thrown me off, but if I had to guess, there’s something physical going on with me. Some specific order of steps in my routine that are messing me up. There’s a factor to it all that I’m not seeing clearly myself since I’m too close to it, but hopefully experts can pick up on quickly. Anyway, what’s going on with my ballet has nothing to do with my mental fortitude.” She pushes the sleeves of her top back and looks at me. “If you need help managing stress and locking it away, I’m really good at that. I can give you some great advice because I always know what to do and how to be okay.”
“That…” I sigh. “Would be fucking great.”
“The panic attack was an anomaly. Shock, I think.” Sonya visibly swallows. “Anyway, that’s what I think I can offer—my expertise—that might match what you’re giving me.”
If anyone else heard us talk like this, they might ask if this is a case of the blind leading the blind. You know, two repressed people who would be better served if they honestly got in touch with their emotions?—
But it’s just me and Sonya here.
I jump forward and stick my hand out to her, smiling broadly. “Darling, you have a deal.”
29
SONYA
Later that week,I’m back at Hughes’ house inside some sort of boardroom space. The kind of setup fitted for an entire hockey team so they can sit around a massive table in a bunch of ergonomic chairs on wheels.
My back presses against a wall.
From my earlier internet sleuthing, I recognize Hughes’ sports psychologist, a physician, performance coach, physiotherapist and…massage therapist?
They clearly know each other since they’re chatting animatedly while I awkwardly stare at them. Cool. No worries. I wait to slide into my usual I’m-unfazed-by-everything mindset. It takes more effort than it typically does to pull off.
I can’t believe I’m here.Do I actually have it? These yips?
It’s such a ridiculous word to use, but also not the first time I’ve heard of it. Obviously, every performer and athlete knows about these kinds of mental blocks, but it can’t be happening to me. The possibility never even crossed my mind, because why would it? I’m too strong tolet this kind of thing happen, mentally and physically, so something else has to be going on.
But what?
I don’t know, and I’m getting desperate enough to find any answer at this point, because these last few days have been rough.
My knees throb.
That’s how many times I’ve fallen.
I also spent some time looking up the names of the people on Hughes’ team. They work for the Wings, but he personally hires them for himself for extra training.
The credentials attached to their names could fill a whole wall. And the cost to hire them independently? I could never afford it on my own.
Most dancers don’t go into ballet for the money, and your wages usually depend on the company. Sometimes you get paid per performance. Other times, it’s per contract per season. And when you’re starting out? It’s like you’re paid in pointe shoes and nothing else.
