STROKED LONG

STROKED LONG by Meghan Quinn

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Authors: Meghan Quinn
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trail off, not wanting to admit the rest of what I was about to say.
    “You don’t want her to notice your ticks?”
    Bingo!
    It’s bad enough I have poor social skills. I don’t need Ruby seeing all the little idiosyncrasies that make me who I am.
    There are characteristics in every human that make them unique, that separate us from all being the same person in this world full of life. For example, Ruby is quirky, smiley, excited about every new adventure. At least she seems like she is. Those are all positive qualities. Me? I count, I clean, I become paranoid over every little thing. To me, those are ugly characteristics, ones that drive people away, not closer.
    Why would I want someone to get close enough to find that out?
    When it first happened, my friends tried to be kind. Their parents were kind. My teachers were kind. Everyone was fucking kind. I didn't deserve kind. It was all my fault. They all should have been angry at me. I was angry. I couldn't talk to them. And eventually, they weren't kind anymore. I would hear their words about me. Freak. Loser. And when I just got better and better at swimming, those taunts grew more vicious. Arrogant. Bastard. Self-righteous. Asshole Bodi Stoneman Banks. Frozen heart. Made sense. I didn't deserve their kindness. I still don't. It was all my fault. Why would anyone want to get close to that?
    “I’m not really a prize to be won or anything,” I say honestly.
    Yes, I might be one of the most decorated Olympic swimmers in history, but by no means am I a normal functioning human behind the façade the public thinks they know. I’ve been able to train my mind for situations such as interviews and training kids at the pool because it’s a scenario I’m used to. I just put my brain on autopilot and do what I need to do, but new scenarios, new people, new . . . feelings, those are things I can’t possibly handle without showing my true colors.
    “That’s not positive self-talk, Bodi,” Dr. Auburn reminds me. “Is Ruby someone you want to impress? From your inflection, it sounds like maybe she is.”
    Feelings for a woman? Now this is territory I most definitely don’t want to get into. It’s actually something I don’t ever really want to think about; I can’t mentally afford to think about such a thing. To bring someone else into my life, to worry about them just as much as I worry about Eva and Lauren, I don’t think my heart could take it.
    But then . . .
    I can’t keep those big brown eyes out of my head.
    “What do you think about curtains?” I ask, ignoring Dr. Auburn’s question.
    “Pardon me?” he asks, a little thrown from my question.
    “Curtains.” I rub my palms on my jeans. “Are they a necessity?”
    Dr. Auburn takes off his glasses and studies me, probably trying to read my train of thought. I glance up quickly but then look back down, not wanting to give anything away.
    Pointing at me with his glasses, he says, “You’re deflecting. I’m going to take it that Ruby means something to you but you’re not quite ready to admit it.”
    My heart starts to beat faster in my chest, my breath hitches in my throat, and I can feel panic start to ensue me. “She means nothing,” I say quickly, rubbing my palms harder on my jeans. “She’s just someone I have to work with.”
    Sensing my anxiety, Dr. Auburn sets his notepad down and leans forward, his elbows on his thighs and kindness in his eyes. “Breathe through this, Bodi. Take deep, long breaths. Steady that racing heart and calm your nerves. I don’t want to upset you, but I want you to notice and learn from your reactions right now. Your heart rate is elevated, your breathing is heavy, your palms are sweaty; what is that telling you?”
    “That I’m about to have a panic attack.”
    “Good. Now, I’ve known you for quite a long time,” he talks in a very soothing voice, a voice he only uses when I’m on the verge of teetering into a panic attack. “Whenever you’re like this,

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