Page 84 of Pucking Them
My skin crawls, when Olivia’s gaze slides to the way my fingers are tapping on my thighs.
She hums, but I can’t tell if it’s in agreement or dismissal.
She reaches inside her suit to pull out a folded bunch of papers. “Firstly, I need a couple of signatures, for example, that I have your informed consent for evaluation and treatment. But you’ve been through all this before.”
She tosses the papers at me, and I catch them.
“Unlike you,” I say, “I’m not organized enough to walk around with a pen in my pocket. Or am I meant to sign in blood?”
“Only if you believe thatIam Satan, and you’re signing over your soul.” Olivia’s lips twitch.
I shift in my seat. “I may have already done that with coach.”
Olivia tosses her pen to me.
I take my time, deliberately slowly reading through the small print of everything that I sign. It’s something that I’ve learned the hard way.
I will need to warn Shay because I have no doubt that he is going to be hauled in here as well, and he’ll merrily sign without even reading the headings.
When I reach the final page, I frown. “Wait, this gives you permission to read my former therapist’s notes.”
“Of course. I need to catch up quickly on every member of an entire team and their staff, making sure that their care is continuous. Or don’t you want your new meds?”
“New?” I hurl the pen down onto the paper along with the final — unsigned — page.
Olivia continues to sit calmly and doesn’t react to my outburst.
She is like a crocodile who lies still under the water, until she ambushes and drags her victim into a death roll.
“I can run through why it will work better for you,” Olivia points out, “once you sign that.”
“And can I take it that you have already read my notes?”
“How could I have used my time efficiently with you this week, making sure that you play your best in these games, if I hadn’t? Under your contract, your coach has the authority to sign permission on your behalf. This is just…”
“For appearances.”
She doesn’t deny it.
Instead, she picks up a bottle of water, twisting off the top. “You look pale. You should have a drink.”
I stare at the water.
My throat is dry. I am shaking.
I should take the water, but from her hand, it feels like the offer of poison.
“I’m fine.”
For the first time, something deep and dark flashes in Olivia’s eyes. She pastes on a fake smile and takes a deliberate drink of the water herself, smacking her lips.
I feel thirstier than I did before.
“Are you always this uncomfortable taking orders? Is feeling controlled a trigger for you?” Olivia asks.
I lean forward, fire flaring in my eyes. “Didyoubecome a psychiatrist because you needed to be in control?”
For the first time, she flinches.
