Page 5

Chapter 5

ZACK

After a short snack and hydration break, we’re packed into the team room for one of our group sessions. Still sweaty from the gym workout, everyone spreads out across chairs and benches. Coach Green introduces Dr. Stone, who steps to the front in his usual calm, unflappable way.

“Today we’re talking regulation,” he starts. “Not rules. I mean emotional self regulation—being able to keep your head when things get heated.” He gives us a half-smile. “Or when you’re staring down that final shootout. Or when you’re facing your own bad temper.”

Some of the guys chuckle, and a few exchange side-eyes. I stay quiet. I am really not into going back to college psych class,

“We’ve already talked about the benefits of deep breathing, and some calming techniques–box breathing, mindfulness, that kind of thing,” Stone continues. “What we’re doing today is simple, but powerful. We call it the Bear and Cougar Scan."

"Your brain can’t tell the difference between a charging grizzly or a nasty comment from a ref. A stressor is a stressor to it. The same alarm goes off in your amygdala, the center for handling any kind of incoming stress. It sends out a flood of stress hormones, adrenalin is a familiar one, and your right brain, the emotionally driven, quick acting brain, overpowers your left brain which then disengages… And you react with a “fight, flight, or freeze” reaction."

Donnie whispers “Like Jurassic Park,” and Brody elbows him, grinning.

Dr. Stone chuckles. “Something like that. What we want to do is bring our left brain back to the table—the logic, reasoning, memory, thought processing part of the brain. It needs to re-engage with the spiraling right brain to bring balance and clear thinking back."

Just when I'm thinking about shutting out this Psych 101 lecture, Dr Stone claps his hands and says, "I’m going to demonstrate the exercise, but I’d like a volunteer.”

His eyes sweep the room, then land on Amber, who’s been standing near the back with her clipboard. “Dr. Morrison, would you mind?”

She looks surprised but nods and steps forward, moving gracefully to the front. There’s a flicker of interest from the guys, but no one says a word. Probably because they know better. Or maybe because I’m watching.

“Here’s what we’re doing,” Stone says. “First, you need to move. Regulated, intentional movement engages the left brain since it controls voluntary body movement.” He has Amber shift her weight, roll her shoulders, do a slow stretch. Then he has her pat both sides of her legs alternately to get both body sides engaged.

Yeah, I’m definitely suddenly noticing my environment.

I cross my arms and try to focus, but it’s not easy when she’s standing up there in her loose sweater and fitted pants, hair pulled back, eyes sharp and focused. She doesn’t even know she’s killing me.

I shout to my own brain, "Get a grip, Colt. You are not, and will not be, in any way interested in Amber Morrison."

“Now take a deep breath in,” Stone continues, “and look to the left. What do you see, Dr. Morrison? Notice colors, shapes, items.”

Amber scans slowly. “I see the whiteboard, the Blades banner, Blake picking at his tape again…”

There’s some chuckling. Blake groans.

“Good,” Stone says. “Now take another deep breath, since I had you talk out the last breath, and slowly exhale as you turn your head to the right. And narrate.”

“I see the projector cart, the water cooler, Donatello trying not to laugh…”

More snickers. She’s got their attention. Mine too.

“Deep breath in again. Now back to the left.”

As she moves through the exercise, something changes. He coaches her to attach thoughts to what she sees which will further engage the left brain.

Her shoulders drop a little. Her voice smooths out. The room quiets. It’s subtle, but I feel it—even from here. That shift. Like the tension dialed down a few notches. What I am watching, feeling, is a real thing. Maybe there is something to this stuff. I never heard of the amygdala in college psych, did I?

Stone turns back to the group. “When you’re dysregulated—angry, anxious, overstimulated—this exercise gets your left brain back online."

“You’re scanning your surroundings like you would if you were watching out for a bear or cougar in the wild. Is there a threat? No? You’re safe. The body can calm. You take control.”

I glance at Amber. She’s smiling a little, cheeks flushed from being watched.

Stone gestures to the room. “Now you try. Same steps. And if you forget what to do… just picture Dr. Morrison up here doing it.”

There’s some low laughter, but it’s respectful. The guys will remember it. I guarantee it.

That afternoon, I bring the same energy from the gym workout earlier into the rink. I strap my gear on as fast as I can, wanting to be on the ice as quickly as possible. I know that the rink is my safe space, and my thoughts won’t be quite so loud out there.

Of course, my hopes are shattered when I arrive and see Amber sitting in the stands like she owns the place. Calm. Unshakable. Watching me with that unreadable look that used to see straight through me.

Dr. Stone is by her side, but I only have eyes for her. She stares me down as I take my first step onto the ice, gliding toward the center of the rink. I skate harder just to break her gaze.

Come on, Zack. Get it together. I tear my eyes away and start warming up, skating laps and figure-eights around the rink. The rest of the team slowly filters in, and soon we’re ready to get practice going.

Coach Green has us split up for one-on-one drills, and I’m glad I have something specific to focus on. Our first drill has the guy behind us in line shooting the puck at the wall halfway across the rink, and then the two of us at the front have to race to capture the puck and bring it back.

I’m paired with Griffin, and the poor guy doesn’t stand a chance. As soon as the puck is hit, I take off, my blades digging into the ice with a satisfying crunch. I pass Griffin easily to reach the puck first, and keep it away from him on the way back. Then, instead of waiting patiently at the back of the line, I practice my body fakes until it’s my turn again.

“Nice one, Zack,” Griffin says when I outpace him for the third time. “I think I should see about switching partners.” He laughs nervously.

“Don’t worry about it too much.” Jason pats Griffin on the shoulder. “Zack’s on another level today.” When Griff turns away, Jason slides a little closer and drops his voice. “You good, dude?” he asks me quietly.

I nod. “Of course I am.” My mind is finally quieting now that I’m exhausting my body. I’ve almost forgotten that Amber is even here. Almost. But even when I’m not looking at her, I still feel her eyes on me. My body is heated and sweaty from the workout, but a strong shiver shakes me. I wince at the feel of it knowing exactly what it means.

“If you say so.” Jason gives me a concerned look and goes back to his place in line.

I’m able to keep my energy up for the rest of practice. I’m slapping the puck faster, hitting the other guys harder, and generally being a menace on the ice. I’m feeling pretty proud of myself when Coach calls it for the day and sends us back to the locker room. A few of the guys are groaning about the new bruises I gave them, but that’s hockey.

I glance up in the stands on my way out and see Amber still typing. Calm, focused, completely unbothered, while Dr. Stone packs up. I notice she still twists her hair around her left finger just like she used to while doing her homework at the family’s dining room table.

Suddenly my feet move with a mind of their own. One moment, I’m headed toward the locker room—the next, I’m walking straight toward them.