“Just that you’re meeting his friends is a good thing, so maybe I’m wrong.”
The uneasy feeling in my stomach worsens as I think back to the night I met Lily.
“What’s that look?” my sister questions.
“Nothing.”
“What happened with this Lily girl?”
“Nothing. She said I could text her and she’d get me back after the game, so I’ll get to be with all the WAGS then. I actually really like her, and we’ve been texting on and off since we met. Feels like maybe we could be friends.”
“Don’t you dare lie to me,” she warns.
“I’m not.”
“Are too. Claire Elise Silverman, tell me what happened before I make a scene.” She crosses her arms, scowling at me dramatically like she’s our mother and not my little sister.
“Fine. Raph and I were at dinner the other night and they walked into the same restaurant. I don’t know, the whole interaction was weird, and then Lily insisted they join us at our table, and Raph got superuncomfortable.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know how to explain it, but they ended up joining us anyway, and she seemed really nice. I think he was just upset they interrupted. We don’t get to spend a lot of time together with our schedules.”
Her brow raises as she looks at me with judgy eyes.
“What?”
She shrugs.
“No, tell me what you’re thinking.”
“You know I just want what’s best for you. You deserve someone who doesn’t get weird about you meeting his friends and will treat you like a goddamn queen.”
A fan ahead of us wearing a rat head stumbles backwards, bumping into Andi and stepping on her foot.
“For fuck’s sake,” she says, shoving him off of her.
“And you don’t think he treats me like that?”
“No. Queens don’t have to walk into stadiums with hundreds of drunk fans. They get special treatment. You’re the fucking Sugar Plum Fairy for Christ’s sake!” Her voice rises as she talks, and the man wearing the rat head looks over his shoulder.
So much for not causing a scene.
“Can you lower your voice? People are staring.”
“I’m not wrong, and you know it.” She looks down at her phone, and a smile breaks across her face.
“You’re one to talk. Is that Isaac?”
“It is. He wants me to come over after the game.”
I shake my head and laugh. “Goodness, we’re a mess.”
“No. You’re a mess. I’m fully aware that Isaac and I are a bad idea.”
“Please come this way,” a security attendant says, moving the retractable belt barrier so that the line begins to move in a different direction with us in the front. We follow him toward a metal detector.
“Place your bag on the table and step through with your hands up,” he shouts, motioning Andi and me forward. We quickly move through the security checkpoint and collect our belongings.
