#me posting this a month after the actual task: loophole grant goes to therapy more than just that required session ANYWAY

[rollinsgrant]

Location: Betsy’s Office Date: January 16th Time: 11:00am Trigger Warnings: nothing major, but there are some vague references to Freeport/Grant’s past, food, medication, and anxiety over the draft! 

Grant waves away the hot chocolate, like he always does. Dr. Dobson shrugs, but Grant knows she’ll offer it up again next time too, like clockwork. It’s his fifth year as a Fox, and his fourth with regular sessions—twice a month now, but they used to meet every single week. They’ve got their routine down. 

And that’s good, because Grant loves his routines. The morning ritual of a run, the weights he lifts in the gym in neat sets of eight or ten, the afternoon practices, his evenings blocked out for homework or pouring over tapes from an old game. Now that he’s back in Palmetto, Grant knows more or less what every day will hold. He can’t predict it all, of course, not when he plays alongside Foxes, but he can control his own actions. That’s always been the most important thing.  

These sessions are part of that. Outside of her office, Grant doesn’t spare much time for his past. Here, on his own terms alone, he’s dissected every inch of it. That hasn’t been the focus of his sessions for ages, but he can still feel Freeport when he’s in this room, like scar tissue that’s sore to the touch even after it’s healed. 

“Let’s see…” Dr. Dobson trails off, checks her notes. “Your homework from last session. What changes have you made these past weeks? Small things count, as long as they were for yourself.”

It takes Grant back, against his will, to his mom saying well, at least now I can put my favorite comforter on the bed, instead of his—gotta do the little things for yourself after his dad walked out and left her alone with a ten year old to raise. As far as memories go, it’s benign, and Grant knows that well enough. It still doesn’t put him in the best of moods. 

“I play Exy for myself,” Grant protests. He’s nothing if not stubborn, even in therapy. Besides, he’s not some martyr; almost everything he does is calculated for his own ambitions. He’s never made a secret of that. Maybe he gives everything on the court, but it’s for his own career too. Not just the team’s benefit. “I’m not a Fox out of charity. I want to be here.”

“I meant outside of Exy, Grant. Outside of your classes too. You know that.”

It’s true. That’s been Dr. Dobson’s push this year—if last year she threw him towards his teammates, now she wants him to dial back, find at least one new hobby that even Grant can’t twist to make about Exy. It’s hardly fair, but Dr. Dobson’s helped him through far worse things than this over the years: sleepless nights and side effects from medications until they found the right one and flashbacks that do more than just sour his mood. Hell, she’s the therapist for the Foxes; she’s seen far worse than him, even at his lowest. 

That’s always been strangely comforting. Grant will never be the worst tragedy to set foot in her office. More importantly, Grant trusts her by now. There’s comfort in the endless cups of sugary drinks he refuses; the exact, precise lines of everything in this office. 

“We’ve got our first Championship game on Friday,” Grant finally says, spine straight even though he knows she’ll disapprove. She’ll call this an excuse. “I didn’t have time.”

Sure enough, the look Dr. Dobson gives him is exasperated. “Somehow, I don’t believe that. If there’s one thing you’ve shown me, it’s that you’ll find a way to make something happen if it’s a real priority. This tells me you aren’t prioritizing the tasks I give you.”

To her credit, Dr. Dobson respects every one of Grant’s boundaries. She lets him focus on his anxieties over the draft. The game. Once he put his foot down last semester, she stopped asking after his mother’s crumpled up contact information in his desk drawer, and she’s accepted that he truly doesn’t want to introduce some new, complicated variable to his life right now. They talk about what he’s ready to talk about. 

Even still, she’s persistent. Once he’s opened up about, oh, say his fears of what happens if he doesn’t get drafted, if he has nothing else outside of Exy and the Foxes and he loses both—well, she doesn’t let him flinch away again. Technically, Grant likes that about her too. Just not in this moment. 

“Fine,” Grant says, successfully chastised. “You’re right. But I came to therapy, and this is for me, right? This isn’t an Exy thing.”

That gets a smile. “Fair enough. But it isn’t a new thing either, and I’d like to see you challenge yourself more. Off the court.” She pauses. “I’m going to be honest. We’ve made a lot of progress together, and that’s wonderful. Lately though, I feel like things haven’t changed much for you or our sessions. Do you feel the same?”

Grant shifts. Nods. It’s true, they go in circles now; Dr. Dobson wanting something more personal from him, and Grant focused on the games and the upcoming draft that overshadows everything else. He understands the logic of her approach; if he’s so worried about leaving here with nothing, then why shouldn’t he find something else, just in case? He can’t control the draft. He can control himself. In reality though, he’s come up short, every single time, as if failing to make room for anything else in his life will give him power over what happens next.

“That isn’t necessarily a bad thing Grant, but it means we might need to change our approach,” she continues. “You’ve spoken frequently about your anxieties for the draft, but seem resistant to my suggestions to alleviate them. So, I’m going to turn the question to you now instead—what do you think we should do next? What do you want out of these sessions?”

Grant resists the urge to twitch, going still and steady as he considers his options. It’s the same reaction he has when a journalist asks a question he doesn’t want to answer, and it doesn’t surprise him Dr. Dobson obviously recognizes it. After four and a half years, she knows him.

“You don’t need to answer right away, but I’d like you to think about it. You’re very good at setting professional goals. I’m sure you can turn that power towards personal growth as well.” Her piece said, Dr. Dobson settles back into her chair. “If there’s nothing specific you’d like to talk about, why don’t we end early today? Think about what I’ve said, and as always, let me know if you’d like a session sooner than scheduled. If not, I’ll plan on seeing you again in two weeks time.”