“Nice to meet you guys too.” I chuckle under my breath.
“Come on, let’s start looking around,” Cora says.
In a group, we all head to the rack furthest from the door and start to hunt for whatever might catch our attention. The longer I look at clothes, the more relaxed I become. It’s nice how different these women are compared to my old friends.
The football girls wouldn’t have been caught in a thrift shop, even though I love coming to them. Not only does it put me at ease with them, but it makes me feel like I don’t have to be someone else. I don’t have to put on a show to be friends with them.
“So Lyla, tell us about yourself,” Emery says.
I swallow hard. “What do you guys want to know?”
“Everything,” Peyton and Grace say in unison.
They look at each other and start laughing, which makes the rest of us laugh as well.
“I’m not very interesting. I’m a senior, and I’m studying nursing,” I tell them when we’ve all calmed down.
“Any family?” Grace asks.
“Yeah, my dad and brother. I actually live with them off campus.” I pause for a minute, trying to decide if I should give them the watered-down family story or let them in on what’s really happening.
“Spit it out. We want all the details,” Peyton says, reading me like a book.
“Are you from here?” Grace adds.
I shake my head. “No, I grew up a couple of hours away from here in a small town, but when I came here for school, my dad and brother followed.” I take a deep breath. “My dad actually has dementia, and my brother and I are his full-time caregivers. We have a respite worker that comes twice a week to give us both a break.”
“Are you serious?” Peyton asks slowly.
“Yeah.” I keep looking through the rack, not wanting to see the pity on their faces.
“I am so, so sorry. I can’t imagine how difficult that is on you and your brother,” Grace says, sounding like she means it.
“That has to be heartbreaking. Does he remember who you are?” Emery asks gently.
This is how I wished my friends had reacted when I told them. Instead, they showed pity and disgust. They never understood.
I shrug, giving them a sad smile. “Most of the time he thinks I’m his sister, but it’s fine.”
Cora stops flipping through the rack and pulls me into a hug.
“Okay, we need a topic change before we start crying,” Grace says.
“Agreed. How’s the season going, Cora?” Emery asks.
“Good. The guys are killing it. It’s like something otherworldly possessed Wyatt and Kellan. They are both having the best season ever,” Cora tells them.
Grace sighs. “I feel so bad that I haven’t made it to a game yet.”
“Me too. Between trying to make all of Beckett’s games, school, and renovations, I’ve been stressing out,” Peyton adds.
“Brett’s been itching to go, but his team has also had overlapping games. The one night he had free, Alissa had a fever and he wouldn’t go,” Emery chimes in.
Cora rolls her eyes as she pulls away. “You two stream the Wolves’ games while watching your men play theirs, and you send the group chat a play by play on both games.”
“You do?” I ask, shock bleeding into my voice.
Talk about friendship.
