Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 87395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Neil sat on the edge of the couch and said, "But it's August."
"Chocolate is good any time of the year, don't you think?" Betsy said.
"I don't like sweets," Neil said.
Betsy took a mug and container of cocoa out of one of her desk drawers. "As you know, today is a casual appointment so we can get to know one another. This isn't a formal session where I'll be analyzing everything you say for feedback and advice, so don't stress too much about it. Have you seen a counselor before?"
"No," Neil said. "I don't know why I have to be here today."
"Palmetto State made it policy a few years ago," Betsy said. "The board expects a lot from all of their students, and more from their athletic representatives. This way they're allowing you a way to vent some of the pressure and stress they're leveling on you."
"They're keeping an eye on their investment, you mean," Neil said.
"That is a way of looking at it." Betsy finished stirring her drink and brought her mug to the chair across from his. "Tell me a little about yourself, Neil."
"What do you want me to say?"
"Where are you from?"
"Millport, Arizona."
"I haven't heard of it."
"It's a small place," Neil said. "The only people who live there are either too old to move out or too young to escape. There's nothing to do except play sports or bingo. We only moved there because it's halfway between Tucson and Phoenix. My mother worked in one and my father the other."
"What do they do?"
Neil hadn't talked about his family much in Millport, but he'd arrived in Arizona already knowing who the Jostens were and what their problems were like. The answers he'd kept from his high school classmates and coach would have to be good enough for Betsy.
"Mom is an engineer," Neil said. "Dad's halfway through CDL training."
"Will they come out to watch your first match?"
Neil affected surprise. "No. Why would they? They don't like sports."
"But Exy is obviously very important to you, and you are their child," Betsy said. "What you've accomplished here is nothing short of amazing. I wondered if they might come out to support you."
"No. They don't really—" Neil gestured as if searching for words. "We're not close like that. They made sure I got to school and got my checkups and kept my grades up, that kind of thing, but they didn't know my teachers' names or watch any of my games. It's not going to change now that I'm in college. They live their lives; I live mine. It works for us."
"Does it?"
"I said it does," Neil said. "I don't want to talk about my parents with you."
Betsy accepted that and moved on without missing a beat. "How are you getting along with your teammates?"
"I'm pretty sure the majority of them are clinically insane."
"When you say you think they are insane, do you mean you feel threatened by them?"
"I mean they have issues," Neil said. "You know more than I do. Friday's game will probably be a disaster, but I don't think anyone will be surprised."
"Are you ready for the match?"
"Yes and no," Neil said. "I know I'm not good enough to play with a Class I team, but I want to try. I watch a lot of games on TV, but I've never been in a real stadium on game night. We used a soccer field in Arizona that barely sat two thousand people. Coach said we've already sold out opening night. I want to see what the Foxhole Court looks like when it's full. I bet it's insane."
"And Friday doubles as your debut," Betsy added. "The ERC has been generous, letting David keep quiet on you this long. I can only imagine the fallout when the cat's out of the bag."
It took Neil a moment to recognize the name, because only Abby used Wymack's first name. That Betsy called him David so easily hinted at a closer relationship than he expected a psychiatrist and coach to have. Maybe it was because she spent so much time with Wymack's team, but Neil wasn't convinced. Dimly Neil remembered his first dinner in South Carolina, when Abby said she'd invited Betsy over to dinner with them. The three were friends of a sort, which didn't bode well for Neil. How much did they talk about the Foxes?
"You're friends with Coach," Neil said.
"Abby and I went to school together in Charleston and stayed in touch after graduation. I met David through her," Betsy said. "I am their friend, but I respect the sanctity of our relationship as doctor and patient. What you and I say in here is meant for us alone. They will never ask, and I will never tell. Do you believe me?"
"How can I?" Neil asked. "I just met you."
"I respect that," Betsy said. "Hopefully I can earn your trust over time."
Neil wasn't planning on seeing her ever again, no matter all his promises of a next time, so he went with a neutral, "Hopefully."
He glanced at the clock, calculated how much time was left, and swallowed a sigh. If Betsy noticed his distraction, she didn't comment on it. Instead she filled the rest of the session with idle chitchat about the season and the upcoming semester. Neil continued feeding her easy answers that wouldn't raise any flags and counted minutes in his head. When his time was finally up, he got up and preceded her from the room.
Betsy followed him down the hall but stopped in the doorway to the waiting room to clasp his hand. "It was nice to meet you."
"You, too," Neil lied.
Renee stood, bid Betsy another farewell, and went with Neil out to the car. As she unlocked the doors she looked over the roof at Neil and said, "That wasn't so bad, was it? Andrew was convinced it would be a disaster. He put money on you hating Betsy."
"Did you bet against him?"
"Yes," Renee said. "It was a private bet between the two of us."
Neil spent the summer blurring the truth with his teammates, but a half-hour talking to Betsy left him too worn out to care right now. It helped a bit that honesty in this case put Renee at a disadvantage. Andrew might be trouble, but he was easier to understand than Renee's polite smiles.