A New Reflection

43. Training

After a brief bit of small talk, which is awkward but tolerable due to the sliver of newfound social confidence I have developed in the past year, I assist Steve in gathering equipment from the locker rooms.

"Hey, Natalia!" Alex fist bumps me in the most natural manner as we cross paths. I'm so uncool that I nearly burst out laughing.

We all work together setting up the nets. Alex, as promised, keeps his gaze directed at the floor each time he approaches me. I, on the other hand, have no sense of discretion and stare at him every chance I get, taking in his muscular legs, terrible curved posture, sandy-streaked hair twisting every direction and slightly sunburned face. My mind wanders to the three pictures on his Instagram account; I imagine he spends most free moments engaged in outdoor sports. He seems like the kind of person who can't be still.

As Alex hands me one side of the net, our fingers brush together and he accidentally makes eye contact before flicking his gaze away. I catch a smile bursting in the corners of his lips, which matches the rush of adrenaline coursing through my insides. This is going to be fun.

The other girls soon arrive; I recognize most of them from the JV team last year but only played on varsity with a couple of them, who were juniors and now seniors. I am excited to see Shelly in particular. Part of me is nervous about how the girls will respond to having me invade their training camp. At the same time, there is a tiny flicker of hope burning in my throat at the opportunity to engage on a team without the painful barriers of shyness barring me from every interaction.

I sometimes feel as though I am being stretched and tangled up like sticky bubble gum among my various selves—myself at home, free and straight-laced; my California teenage self, afraid to even open my mouth for fear of embarrassing myself; my college self, open and slightly adventurous. At any given moment, my level of confidence can shoot up or evaporate into thin air. I suppose this is the case for everyone, even extroverts; we are all running against the current of our own insecurities at every turn.

Once the whole team has arrived, Steve has us introduce ourselves since not everyone is acquainted or has played together. As my turn approaches, my fingers turn tickly in nervous anticipation. I glance at Alex before speaking, and he gives me an affirming nod.

"I'm Natalia. I played for two years on the varsity team, but I'm actually in college now and just home for the summer. I'm considering playing next year on my school's team, so I..."

"What college do you go to?" one of the girls interrupts me, her voice loud and impulsive.

"Lewis & Clark, in Portland, Oregon."

"Did you play on the team this year?" someone else asks.

"Quit interrupting," Steve warns quietly from off to the side, where he is making notes on his clipboard.

"No, I wasn't going to play college sports, but the coach invited me to play."

When I hear the girls uttering little noises indicating they are impressed, I squirm in discomfort.

"It's a really tiny school, so the team isn't very competitive," I attempt to clarify.

"Natalia, that reminds me—are you coming with us to Tahoe this weekend?" Steve cuts in. "The school doesn't need a permission slip, since you are over eighteen and not a student, but I'll need you to sign a waiver." He digs through a pile of crumpled papers as I attempt to process his words.

"Um, what is it?" I squeak.

Steve peers up, realizing I have no idea what he is referring to. "The overnight camp at Lake Tahoe. Friday through Sunday—it's training sessions with the coaches followed by scrimmages with the other teams. Alex, you said you filled her on on all the details."