How It Feels to Fly(5)

I feel their eyes rake over me.

Dr. Lancaster smiles warmly. “Good morning, Sam. Welcome.”

I sit in the only open chair, trying to look like I haven’t just broken out in a cold sweat.

This is happening. I’m in therapy, disguised as a summer camp.

I don’t need therapy. I was doing fine on my own.

But I can’t face my mom if I don’t at least try to get something out of this place. She’s been working two jobs to cover the cost of sending me here and to my ballet intensive. In the car yesterday, she mentioned how exhausting it is to spend eight hours at the law office where she’s an executive assistant, only to then head straight to my ballet studio, where she’s been doing extra admin work for Miss Elise since April. I don’t think she was trying to make me feel guilty, but . . . I feel guilty.

So I have to learn how to not have panic attacks. For myself, and for her.

“Morning, Sam,” Andrew says from the seat next to me. “Sleep well?”

I glance at him, wary, but I keep my voice polite. “I slept fine, thanks. You?”

“Yeah, I slept like a rock.”

I force myself to maintain eye contact despite how much I want to turn away. I can’t believe I melted down in front of him last night. And now he’s acting like nothing happened. Well, I can pretend too. “How do rocks sleep?” I ask him.

“Hard, I guess,” he answers, grinning.

“Ha, ha.” I roll my eyes, and he laughs. That’s good—he can’t tell how uncomfortable I am.

And then Dr. Lancaster begins. “Welcome to your first official day at Perform at Your Peak! Whether you’re a dancer or a gymnast or a football player or an actor or a tennis player or a figure skater”—she looks at me, Katie, Dominic, Omar, Zoe, and Jenna as she says each of our specialties—“you can become more effective competitors and performers. You’re all facing something that is keeping you from reaching your full potential.” She spreads her arms wide, like the potential in the room is about to bowl her over. The movement turns the flowy, oatmeal-colored cardigan she’s wearing into wings. “Over the next three weeks, we’ll confront your anxiety issues and come up with strategies to combat them.”

Strategies. I’m okay with strategies. Talking—not so much.

“Perform at Your Peak is about helping you achieve athletic or artistic excellence,” she goes on. “But more than that: it’s about learning to manage your anxiety so that you can enjoy mental and emotional well-being all the time—not just when you’re on the field or onstage. And that’s why I want to start today’s session by having Andrew and Yasmin tell you more about themselves and how their lives have changed since their time here. Yasmin?”

Yasmin waves at us. “Hi, guys. When I was here two years ago, I’d just started writing my own songs. I’d taught myself keyboard and guitar, and I could sing and record in my bedroom, but I was terrified to perform in front of anyone, live. So when my best friend signed me up for an open mic night at a local college, and basically shoved me onstage, I totally bombed. I was awful. But it was like . . .” She pauses, looking thoughtful. “That experience made me realize that if I wanted music to be a part of my future, I had to get over my stage fright. So I came to Perform at Your Peak. In our one-on-one sessions, Dr. Lancaster and I talked about why singing in front of people freaked me out. What I was afraid of. We came up with ways to get rid of those fears. And now I’m a sophomore at Belmont University in Nashville, majoring in commercial music and performing at open mic nights whenever I can! I’m hoping to record a demo soon.”

Dr. Lancaster beams. “And Andrew?”

“Yeah, so, uh, my story’s a little different,” he says. “I came here because my dad and my coach wanted to make sure my head was in the game senior year, when we were looking at colleges. It can be a lot of pressure, dealing with recruiters and figuring out where you want to go. It’s a huge decision. You have to play better than you’ve ever played before to get noticed. I was really nervous, and Dr. Lancaster helped me learn to stay calm and focused. I ended up getting recruited to play at the University of Georgia, but, um”—he clears his throat—“I quit the team after my freshman season. It was totally the right choice for me, and I couldn’t have done it without everything I learned from Dr. Lancaster.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Jenna cuts in. “You’re supposed to be able to advise us on being better competitors, but you got everything you wanted and just . . . quit?”

Dr. Lancaster holds up her hand. “As I said before, being here isn’t only about competing or performing. It’s also about learning to deal with anxiety.”

“Dr. Lancaster and I talked a lot about my motivation. In college I realized I wasn’t playing football for me,” Andrew tells Jenna. “I was doing it for my dad and my coach. I didn’t want to let them down. And I’d never thought about what else I might want to do with my life.”

Jenna crosses her arms, letting out a huff of air. “But how—”

“Your dad made you play?” Zoe interrupts her, staring at Andrew. “You only did it because he forced you? For how long?”

“Zoe.” Dr. Lancaster points at the poster on the wall by the door. Another thing she had us do during orientation: discuss what would make us feel safe in the group setting. We each got to write a rule on the poster, like, “Don’t interrupt or talk over each other” and “Don’t make fun of other people’s experiences.” My contribution: “It’s okay to say ‘pass’ if you don’t want to talk about something.”