Chapter 23 Luca

Iwalk into the Firebirds locker room. The first day after All Star break. The first day after Aruba.

And I can’t.

I am exhausted but vibrating with a tension that feels like I’m going to snap. It took everything in me to get out of bed. To put on clothes. To eat a protein bar that tasted like chalk.

It took energy I didn’t have to get in my car with my gear bag. To drive to the arena. To simply walk into the building.

And now I am in the locker room, the clang of a door echoing too loudly in my head. Everyone is giving their updates on how great their breaks were.

Makinen in Finland. Thompson fishing.

And I can’t.

I drop my bag on the floor. Open it up to get my skates out. Davis asks how I am.

Fonty starts going on about some fried shrimp he had.

My throat is tight. Someone is going to ask about Aruba.

And.

I.

Just.

Can’t.

I stand up and leave. Leave my bag. Leave my phone. Leave my keys.

Leave everything in that room.

I don’t have a plan. I just walk. And find myself down a deserted hall in front of a door to a storage room.

I go in and close the door.

I sink down onto a dirty floor that smells like floor cleaner and old rubber.

And I break.

?

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