carousel // q.h.

chapter one // vancouver

Moving to Vancouver just two months after graduation was definitely a spur of the moment decision. With no friends, no family, and no perception of how public transportation even worked in Canada, I quickly began to think that this whole idea was a complete mistake. 

Not that you had any friends in the first place, I thought to myself, chuckling. As I looked out of the car window, I could see downtown Vancouver appearing in the distance. I turned up the volume on my headphones, as '4 AM' by 2 Chainz came on shuffle. As the lyrics 'if it wasn't for the struggle then I wouldn't be me' flowed through my headphones, I couldn't help but crack a small smile. You're where you're supposed to be, Gretch. You worked hard for this. And deep down, despite all of the fear and anxiety of moving to a different country, I knew that this move wasn't a mistake; I had gotten into medical school at the University of British Columbia. A full ride. Even more, I had secured an internship with the Vancouver Canucks. And that's where I was headed: Rogers Arena, home of the Vancouver Canucks. I was told to come in for a quick orientation, to get an idea of where I'd be spending the next year of my life. As the buildings got taller and downtown came more into vision, I whipped out my phone, snapping a picture of the Vancouver skyline. That's more insta-worthy than any selfie you've ever taken, that's for sure. I thought, as I opened the Instagram app. As I pressed the 'new post' button, I noticed that I had a couple of notifications, and saw that @jakevirtanen18 had requested to follow me. I furrowed my eyebrows. Nobody ever follows me. 

Who is this?

I scrolled down a bit more and saw that @bboeser, @troystecher, and @_eliaspettersson also followed me. 

What the hell? I clicked on one of the profiles and saw a wave of blue and green, making it clear that this was one of the players. In hindsight, I probably should have done more research into the players, at least figuring out their names. I was going to be working with them for the next year, after all. 

How did they even know who I am? Why would they even follow me?

I've had my Instagram for nearly four years, having gotten it when I was sixteen. In those four years, I'd accumulated a whopping 67 followers. And now, all of a sudden, four NHL players have requested to follow me. I decided to not accept them because I hadn't met them yet, and I didn't want to freak them out before I even met them, once they saw how I had literally only posted weird drawings that I did for fun. They weren't even good or anything- just doodles of random scenery and people. Not one post even had my face in it, let alone a post with friends. Which again, I had none of. Maybe that's why they followed you- because they haven't had the chance to see your face yet. I couldn't help but let that thought cross my mind, no matter how positive I tried to be. But even though they didn't know me yet, it honestly felt nice to know that they were kind enough to at least try and reach out. It was a change from what I was used to; I dealt with severe bullying my whole life, and most of it came at the expense of my weight. It only got worse in college, when I shared a dorm room with a girl named Lexi. She and her friends made my life hell, constantly pointing out my weight and how unattractive I was, hurling insult after insult at me. The worst of it happened sophomore year when her boyfriend and his hockey friends joined in on the bullying. I'll never forget the night it happened... Stop, Gretch. Don't let him take over your memories. Today is your day... But why would this be any different? You should just leave. It's not like anyone would care if you did. Why would these players even like you? I swallowed, wiping my eyes as I tried to block the bad thoughts from taking over. 

"This is your stop, have a nice day!" The Uber driver turned around to look at me, taking me out of my thoughts. 

"Thank you so much, have a good day!" I lightly smiled at the Uber driver, trying not to show that I was tearing up. Grabbing my backpack and water bottle, I started heading to the entrance. I took a deep breath and a sip of water, trying to collect myself as I walked through the doors.