Contronym

Chapter 23

"Sylvia. Sylvia. Mason." I heard a voice whisper. I didn't really care who it was, I just curled up into a tighter ball. There was shuffling before I almost went deft by the sound of Anderson Cooper in my ear.

I shot up like a lightning bolt and yanked my earbuds out of my ears with wide eyes. When I came to my senses, I realized we were still on the plane. I narrowed my eyes and glared at an amused looking Finn to my right. "Was that really necessary?" I hissed at him in a low voice. The man on Finn's right looked slightly annoyed as he stared at his computer. Sucks to be him.

"Actually, I thought it was very necessary." He replied with a smirk as he whispered it in my ear.

"You're going to give me a God damned early heart attack." I muttered and unplugged my earbuds. We were landing soon, hence why Finn woke me up and why that man was angrily closing tabs on his computer. Someone's not having a good day. "You ever been to Atlanta?" I asked Finn.

"Yeah. The airport, not the city. What about you?"

"Once. The airport, not the city." I replied, mimicking him slightly. He smiled slightly and leaned back into his seat. Atlanta was one of the busiest airport connecting hubs in the world. I feel like everyone had been here at least once. The rest of the landing was quiet and peaceful. Finn and I were some of the last ones to get off the flight, but we were deliberately taking our time. As if not being at the hotel and sports center would somehow delay the time of the actual tryouts tomorrow.

We arrived at our baggage claim and had to wait for all eight of our items. Aka three sticks each and our clothing. Despite the fact that it was only four days, we also needed multiple pairs of clothes a day since we don't live in workout clothing. Either way, I still felt really stupid with my suitcase and a duffel bag full of padding, a back pack, and three large metal sticks (two of which were D-poles that made me feel even stupider).

People were staring at us as we walked through the airport. Luckily we didn't have to take any of the subways to get to other terminals.

"Is it just me, or do you feel really awkward right now?" I said to Finn who was walking on my left. The duffel bags where hooked onto the suitcases handles and sat on top while my hand stretched to hold all three sticks perpendicular, as to not stab anyone in the crowded airport.

"Me? No. But then again, I'm not the one with two sticks taller than I am. Nor do I have social anxiety around strangers." He teased.

"Okay. First of all, you're just jealous that I get to use a D-pole and you don't. And they are not taller than me. Second of all, I do not have social anxiety." I retorted. I would have crossed my arms, but they were full. "It's called general anxiety and it has to do with the events happening this week."

"If it's that big of a deal," Finn said while looking around the airport as we walked, "just remember that we've seen their game tapes. You and I don't have any that are easily found, so we are the only two who no one has any prior knowledge of. They don't know our strengths or our weaknesses."

"Like professionals would care enough to watch high schoolers tapes." I scoffed at the notion.

"Exactly. The other players won't even be looking at us, so we only have to worry about the coaches, not the social politics of getting in with the 'it' players."

"That's easy for you to say." I pointed out and pressed the elevator button with my elbow. "I'm the only girl there. Eyes will be on me no matter how much I suck."

"By the time you are on the field, you won't even remember where you are. You're just at another game with new players. Don't think about it as Olympic tryouts." I don't know if he was saying it for me or for him. It seemed like both, but either way I took the advice.