Bending the Rules (The Rules, #1)

Brenna

With consistent therapy appointments and the help of a nutritionist, things have improved immensely.

At least, that's what I like to think.

There are still moments where I catch myself. Sometimes, I obsess over the calories in a granola bar. Other days, I tell myself I'll work extra hard at the gym to burn calories. Sometimes, I need a friend to tell me otherwise and guide me a in different direction. And there's nothing wrong with that because I'm still learning how to cope with this. Every day, you learn something new about yourself. No matter what, there's always room for improvement.

As part of a coping mechanism, I've laid out a strict schedule with my therapist and nutritionist. Having my weeks planned out is part of who I am. Things like hockey practices and games, school, and work hours are already set in stone. This gives me an opportunity to pencil in other activities, like spin class or a date with Shea, therefore allowing me to feel like I have control of my life.

It also brings awareness. Awareness about causing another potential burnout. Being too hard on yourself is never a good thing. Yes, we can always learn and improve, but it's never good when self-doubt becomes toxic.

That's the advice I repeat after every counselling appointment, and it continues to reverberate through my mind as I park my vehicle and enter the house. Uncle Aiden's sleek black SUV is parked just in front of our lawn, so it's no surprise when I hear him chatting with Mom. Their voices echo through the hallway as I kick off my muddy shoes and hang my light coat. I sling my vegan leather messenger bag over my shoulder and saunter into the kitchen, where I'm welcomed by the smell of basil and garlic.

Upon entering, I notice condensation fogs the windows. It's coming from the pot of water boiling on the stove. Next to it is a pot of simmering spaghetti sauce. The oven is on, and from the light inside, I can see a tin-foil-wrapped loaf of garlic bread.

My stomach rumbles. I rest a hand on it, telling it to shut up. Dinner won't be for at least another half an hour. Why? Because that's what time our guests are arriving: Shea, Chelsea, Hunter and his family, and the rest of Uncle Aiden's family. Mom thought it would be a good idea to get together with everyone before playoffs start because our schedules will be too busy soon.

"Brenna," Mom smiles. "How was your appointment?"

I remove my messenger bag and rest it atop the counter, extracting my phone. Taking a page from Shea's books, I shrug. "The usual. Nothing new to report."

That's a small lie. My biological father has been bothering me. That was the focus of today's appointment, and my counsellor helped me figure out the answer. I've been putting too much pressure on myself to meet him. With half of his genes in my body, every thought related to him has made me feel like it's my obligation to meet him, despite him being invisible for most of my life.

It's not my obligation. I realize that now. And if Randy Jameson ever wants to meet me, we will do our exchange under my conditions. When I'm ready.

I'm not ready to meet him yet. Prior to meeting him, I want to have a clear focus on and understanding of my mental health. Plus, playoffs are starting soon. Graduation will follow. These are obstacles I want to eliminate before trying to build a new relationship. If he's willing to sober up and get better, that is. As terrible as I feel about my father being an addict, enabling him is the last thing I want to do.