Pierce shakes his head. “No way. He’s obsessed with watching you play. He knows all your stats like the back of his hand. He tells everyone about you all the time. Watching you play is legit his favorite thing to do. Mom comes over sometimes and watches with us. Dad’s constantly reminding her that you were always destined for greatness.”
I plop into my seat in a bit of shock. I can’t contain my surprise at this bit of information. “They watch it, like, together?” I ask. “In the same room?”
He chuckles. “Of course. Their divorce wasn’t ugly. They’re totally chill. Rooster—he’s my best friend—his parents’ divorce was chopped. They can’t even be in the same room as each other. Mom and Dad aren’t like that at all. They sit together at all my football games. Rooster’s parents won’t even sit on the same set of bleachers, let alone next to each other.” He swallows nervously. “I was thinking maybe you could come to a game or two of mine this fall. My senior night is in October. Your season will be over by then. It would be sweet if my superstar sister wasthere.” He scratches his head. “You’ve never seen me play, and this will be it for me. I’m not playing ball in college.”
“Why not?” I ask. “I’m sure Dad is pissed.” He lives for the glory. He probably hates that his only son isn’t following in his footsteps and playing football in college.
He twists his lips. “Nah, just the opposite. Dad was the one against me playing. He told me to just go to college and have fun without worrying about the pressures of playing ball.”
Huh?
Pierce lets out a laugh. “You look surprised, bruh.”
I lean back in my chair, purposefully ignoring his ridiculous teen lingo. “I am. I assumed he’d push you to be a star like him.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Not at all. He said he could tell it wasn’t my passion and that I’d grow to hate it. He said he just wants me to do what makes me happy, and he doesn’t think football does.” Pierce leans forward a bit toward me and places his elbows on the table. “You know what? He was right. As soon as that decision was made, it was like a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. I guess I felt the burden of being Jett Jeffries’ son my whole life, and once that was gone, I felt great. Dad knew it. He's the best. It took Mom a little longer to come to terms with it, but eventually she was on board too.”
I can only shake my head. “I’m sorry, are we talking about Ginny and Jett Jeffries?”
He smirks. “Yep. Dude, I don’t know what went down with you all, but it would be fly if you could get along. It’s kind of a big year for me. I want you around.” His face turns more serious. “You’re the only sister I’ve got. I want us to be…friends. I want to get to know you. I want you to get to know me.”
I fiddle nervously with my menu. I wasn’t planning on getting this deep with him, really only wanting to catch up and maybestartto form a relationship.
In an attempt to redirect the conversation, I ask, “Do you know where you want to go to school?”
He shrugs. “Somewhere close to home. I don’t want to go far,especially now that you’re living and playing in town.” He smiles hopefully, and I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet. This kid, my brother, just wants a relationship with me, and I’ve ignored him for years.Years.
He starts talking about how much he loves science and wants to be a doctor, but my stomach is flip-flopping. From his sweet demeanor to his longing for a relationship with me and his description of our parents, this has all taken me off guard.
The waitress finally approaches, and we place our orders. I do my best to let my walls down a bit, and we talk like friends for the rest of the meal. I’m realizing he’s not a little kid anymore, despite his use of certain words I’m not sure I know the meaning of. He’s just a sweet young man who is aching for some attention from his big sister. The age gap suddenly feels much less than when we were younger.
One thing is clear. He doesn’t have any clue what happened, and he definitely didn’t experience the same fucked up childhood as me. I see no signs of damage other than wanting his sister in his life. It’s like we have two different sets of parents. His were attentive while mine were anything but. I have no idea what to make of it all.
I leave lunch feeling completely off kilter and in need of someone to talk to. DaylenfuckingHumblecut’s words from last night about me not having any friends are rattling around in my head. He wasn’t wrong. I don’t have a lot of friends. I’ve known my new teammates for less than a week, and I’m already closer to them than I was with any of my New York teammates.
I vow to make continued efforts to form real friendships with these women. None of them have been anything but kind and welcoming to me.
I don’t want to burden Sulley with my family drama. It seems wrong to talk to her about my sibling when she’s so messed up from losing her own.
I’m not the kind of girl who has ever talked about personal things with other women, but desperate times call for desperatemeasures. I decide to go to Shay and Alyssa’s apartment. Alyssa and I hit it off right away when we went shopping. Having a bit of a shared history helped.
When I knock on the front door, Alyssa opens it. Alyssa Doyle is tiny. She must be at least fourteen inches shorter than Layla. She’s very attractive, with wavy brown hair and honey-brown eyes. I think she’s of Filipino descent. She’s got a sarcastic, fun personality. We hit it off right away.
She gives me a sly smile as she opens the door. “Ooh, Black Widow. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
I bite back my smile. “I came up with a genius idea that I wanted to run by my Chief Lesbian Officer. It’s a pill for depressed lesbians. It’s called Trycoxagain.”
She holds her stomach as she leans forward and lets out a huge laugh. “Holy shit. I haven’t heard that one. Hysterical.” Waving her hand, she says, “Come in. Step into your CLO’s office.”
I walk inside and look around. They have a nice, homey apartment. Whereas a lot of people my age have Ikea-furnished apartments, this one looks like it’s a bit higher end.
Alyssa does well. She’s a sales manager at an online payment service company. She can work mostly from home, so moving across the country for Shay wasn’t a big deal for her.
She turns her head back toward me as we enter her living room. “Shay is showering. She’ll be out in a minute. I was procrastinating working out. Your visit gives me an excuse not to go to the gym.”
I shake my head. “If a CEO can run a billion-dollar company, raise three kids, cheat on his wife, and bring his side piece to a Coldplay concert, you can find time for a thirty-minute workout.”
She scrunches her face as we both sit on their sofa. “When you put it like that, it’s hard to argue.”
