I'll Be Right Beside You

“Jordan, what if this goes really badly?” I worried, standing in the waiting room. I was about to start my first counseling session here in Pittsburgh, and while Jordan had come with me – I wanted him to be there with me the whole time – I’d been informed that for at least the first few sessions I would have to go in by myself.

“Cam, babe look at me,” I raised my eyes to his blue ones, and took a long breath. “You’ll be fine; Dan assured me that she’s a really good therapist and that she’s really nice. Just relax, I’ll be sitting right here.”

“I’m know… but I’m scared,” I admitted. What if she figured I was too messed up or emotionally unstable and told the doctor I wasn’t ready to play yet and they put me back to square one? I’d only been practicing for a week.

“Don’t be,” he assured me, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead as the receptionist called my name. I looked to him with wide eyes, before he gave me a gentle push in the right direction. I followed the receptionist back to the therapist’s office, and nearly had a panic attack as she opened the door and gestured for me to go in.

“Hi Cam, I’m Rosalia; nice to meet you,” she said, immediately standing up and offering me her hand to shake. This helped calm my nerves, this was more businesslike, I could handle this.
“H-hi, nice to meet you, too,” I managed to choke out, and she offered me a smile as she gestured to the small couch and armchair.

“Want to sit down? I like having this because it’s more comfortable and less of the whole stuffy ‘office’ thing,” she explained, which almost made me crack a grin. She couldn’t be much older than me, maybe Jordan’s age; she was short, maybe a little over five feet, fairly athletic looking, with long light brown hair and brown eyes.

“Thanks, that might help,” I acknowledged, awkwardly sitting down on the couch and fiddling with the hem of my shirt. Well, Jordan’s shirt, I guess – he’d known how worried I was and borrowed it to me, because he knew I always felt more comfortable in his stuff.

“So, I guess we should start with getting to know each other a little bit. I don’t want to freak you out your first time here,” she chuckled, sitting down kind of sideways in the arm chair and resting her legs on the far arm, something my mom would have yelled at me for doing at home, which made me instantly like her a little more.

“Well, you probably know just about everything about me – seems like Wikipedia’s got that pretty well covered these days,” I joked, and she actually laughed before rolling her eyes.

“That’s the generic PR crap you’re expected to tell everyone, and you know it. No, I mean like… like we were in the same English class at University and going to work on a project together. That kind of get to know each other, you know?” she asked, and while I hadn’t really been to University yet I knew what she meant.

“Uh, okay. Well, my name’s Cam, I’m twenty-one, and I’m from Manitoba. I love hockey, I hate figure skating with a passion because I have no sense of rhythm when it comes to dancing, I like to read, I hate golf, and love Harry Potter – the books are better than the movies though,” I rambled, and then shut up, feeling self conscious about myself.

“Good start. Well, I’m Rosalia. I’m twenty-three, I’m from Minnesota, originally. Never a big fan of the Wild though – my cousin got me started on liking hockey and it was always the Penguins. I played volleyball all through high school and university – now I play on a rec. woman’s team. I love Motocross, I love to read too, and I’m a bit of a nerd,” she replied. I was surprised – I really hadn’t expected her to reciprocate.

“I love pizza too,” I blurted, not sure why. Her eyes lit up, and she smiled.

“Me too – probably one of my favorite foods. There’s just nothing like a hot slice of pizza and a cold beer, right?”

“Oh my God I know –those cooler things have to be the nastiest alcohol I’ve ever tasted,” I made a face, which had her laughing. Needless to say Becka had made me try them one more than one occasion, and it had never ended well for me. I ended up drinking them like juice and then was sicker than a dog the next morning.

“Exactly! I’ve always been more of a guy’s girl when it comes to that stuff,” she told me, and I nodded.

“Me too. Aside from Becka all of my close friends have always been guys. I mean, she’s my best friend, and we’ve been friends since we were like, three, but I just kind of get along better with guys,” I agreed, and before long we were making small talk and a lot of the unease had disappeared.

“So, I’m wondering, what really inspired you to get into playing hockey? I mean, I know your dad got you started on the sport, but what was the real push?” she asked, and I took a deep breath, the mention of my dad a little rough.

“Well, it was always him. He loved the sport, and I’d always been a daddy’s girl, so it became our thing to watch Hockey Night In Canada together, and whatever game we could that was broadcast on TV. He got me my first pair of skates and taught me how to skate. He always talked about his dream of being an NHL player as a kid, and when I realized that he could’ve chased that dream but didn’t because of my mom and me, that’s when it really became my dream. That’s when it stopped being something I just loved to do, and became something I had to do, you know? And then, then when he passed away,” I choked on the words, willing myself not to cry. Rosalia looked a little stricken, obviously not having realized that part. “It made me fight all the harder for him. I would have given anything for him to see me play just one game in the NHL, just one. Just so I could hear him say ‘that’s my girl!’ one more time, and brag to all of his buddies how his little girl could show them up at a so-called boy’s sport,” I told her, and she immediately came and sat down beside me, wrapping her arms around me in a hug.

“I’m so sorry Cam – I hadn’t realized he’d passed away or I wouldn’t have asked. Obviously Wikipedia doesn’t know everything,” I let out a snort of a laugh at that one, and got a watery smile from her.

“It’s okay. It’s not something I like to broadcast. I mean, all of my friends and people around me know, but I’d never bring it up at a press conference or anything. It’s hard enough having to be a girl, let alone start to cry thinking about my dad,” I explained, and she nodded.

“I can’t imagine how hard that would have been. But you know what? I bet he’s watched every single game, and bragged to every single person he’s seen up there that his little girl is showing up all the boys,” she offered with a smile. I returned it and hugged her tighter, feeling like a small weight was off of my shoulders. Rosalia was someone I could really see myself being friends with, which had really surprised me.

“Thanks, that means a lot to me,”

“Well, I think I should let you go Cam. When do you practice next week? I don’t want you to have to miss any time to come here,” she said, and slowly got up to go get her schedule book, sitting back down beside me.

“I don’t have practice on Wednesday,” I told her, and we quickly scheduled my next session, before sitting and chatting a little more.

“Well, thanks so much for coming down here and giving this a chance – I really hope I can help you get what you’re wanting out of this counseling,” she said. I nodded, and she pulled out a card for me.

“Here, I want you to call me if you need to talk about anything. It doesn’t have to be official, it doesn’t have to be on-record, like, client to therapist or anything, just to talk,” she offered, and we hugged once more before I left, finding Jordan waiting anxiously in the waiting room. He immediately enveloped me in a hug, probably because my eyes were still red and puffy from the crying I’d been doing.

“How’d it go? Everything all right?” he asked. I nodded against his chest, feeling the small smile return to my face.

“I think everything will be all right,” I replied as we walked out of the building together.