‘Are you kiddin’?’ said Andrew. ‘That sounds like an awesome opportunity to me.’
I’d finally told him about the chance of joining the state under-sixteen soccer squad and the possibility of going to Brisbane to play in a tournament. Mr Broadbent was pushing for an answer, but with everything that had happened I hadn’t given it much thought. To be honest, I hadn’t wanted to give it much thought. The enrolment forms were still in my bag, probably all crumpled and dog-eared by now.
‘But I’d be away from home.’
‘Oh my God,’ said Andrew. He clutched the sides of his head in mock horror. ‘Not away from home! It’s impossible. Can’t be done. What on earth were they thinking?’
‘All very well for you to make fun,’ I said, ‘but you don’t suffer from panic attacks, Andrew.’
‘You get them at home, don’t you?’
‘So how do you cope with panic attacks here?’
I thought about it. ‘Generally, I wait them out. Go somewhere I can be alone, do my breathing exercises and pass the time until the terror leaves.’ It always did. Eventually. ‘Strenuous exercise can help.’
‘So who do you talk to? Who holds you and calms you and tells you it’ll all be okay?’
‘No one.’
‘So if you get over it by yourself and no one else can help, what difference does it make where you are? And strenuous exercise helps, huh?’ He leaned forward and knocked his knuckles against my head. ‘Duh. Soccer tournament. Hullo?’
‘I’ll get more panic attacks if I’m somewhere strange.’ I rubbed my head because that hurt.
‘Brisbane’s not that strange. A bit, maybe …’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Hey, look,’ he said with a shrug. ‘If you’re determined not to go, then I can’t persuade you. I don’t want to persuade you. But you asked my opinion and I gave it. ’Sup to you what happens next.’
I hate it when Andrew is all logical. Because I knew what he said made sense. Panic attacks are personal and no one else can help. It’s you and you alone facing the terror, dealing with a heart like an engine racing and screaming, threatening to shake you apart.
Yes. Panic attacks are lonely. But at least I can deal with them in a comfortable, familiar place.
Then again, why always take the comfortable and familiar path? Playing in that soccer game had been way outside my comfort zone, but I didn’t regret doing it. And Mr Broadbent seemed to think I was good enough. I took out my phone and went back to that first text message.
Do not fear fear. Its only purpose is to let you know that something is worth doing.
Maybe I should stop fearing fear.
‘It’s up to you, Rob,’ said Mum. ‘I mean, that’s great they want you. But in the end it’s a decision only you can make.’
Dad pointed a sausage at me, which was slightly unnerving.
‘I only wish someone had offered me a chance to play golf at state level,’ he said. ‘Imagine what my life might be like now. I could be on a golf course every day.’
‘You are on a golf course every day,’ Mum pointed out.
‘Yeah, but the course would pay me to do it, instead of the other way round.’
‘Dad,’ I said. ‘I think you need to face facts.’
He waved his sausage, which was still unnerving but I interpreted it as encouragement to continue.
‘You’re rubbish at golf,’ I said. ‘And I should know because I watch you all the time.’
‘Rubbish? That’s a little hurtful.’
‘The last round you played you scored one hundred and twelve.’
‘That was a bad day.’
‘That was a good day.’
He put the sausage back on his plate. I was relieved because it was looking absolutely wonderful and I’m vegetarian.
‘But if I’d had encouragement, maybe I’d be better,’ he said. ‘Maybe I’d be a world-beater.’ A world-beater? I didn’t think so. Possibly an egg-beater, but I didn’t have the heart to say it out loud. So I turned back to Mum.
‘What about my shyness?’ I asked.
‘What about it?’
‘It’ll be horrible in Brisbane because I won’t know anyone and my shyness will mean I’ll be all alone.’
‘Hey, look,’ she said with a shrug. ‘If you’re determined not to go, then I can’t persuade you. Because you’ll always find an excuse, no matter what anyone says.’
‘Just do it,’ said Grandad. ‘If it doesn’t work, then come home. Jeez, Rob. The younger generation always blankety overthinks things.’ He sucked on his teeth and treated me to a whistling rendition of some accidental tune that was actually quite nice.
‘But I’d have to get changed in dressing rooms and use public toilets, Pop. You know I don’t have the confidence to do that sort of stuff.’
‘Then get over yourself, young Rob. You know what I think, because we’ve talked about this before. Accept who you are and stop worrying how others are going to react.’
‘Easy for you to say.’
‘Hey, look,’ he said with a shrug. ‘If you’re determined not to go, then I can’t persuade you. But all I will say is: don’t end up with regrets. You will, of course. Everyone does. But don’t rack ’em up unless you have to.’
He paused. ‘Fancy a game of chess?’ he said. ‘You won’t regret it.’
I got the next text message that same night. Ten thirty-five.
Here’s a challenge that will challenge.
Accept it or decline. ‘Carpe diem’ or ‘dedo’. Look it up, my friend.
Get yourself on the front page of the local newspaper.
It doesn’t matter how you do it.
I already knew that Carpe diem meant ‘seize the day’. But I had to look up Dedo on my phone. It’s Latin for ‘Surrender’.