Again, Richie doesn’t answer me.Bitch.
In my apartment by myself, I have between now and Saturday morning to obsessively spiral about what a stupid thing I’ve done, and there’s no one here to stop me.
Usually, that’s said with an evil laugh, but for me, it’s a scary voice inside my heart talking.I want to call Gram, but I’m trying to stay strong.Maybe it’s childish, but I’m mad at her for kicking me out.Rationally, it makes sense not to have me commute all this way, especially considering my punctuality issues.
I don’t feel like being rational.
It’s the hurt that overwhelms me, tasting like bile in my mouth.My mom didn’t want us.My sister had no choice but to leave.My grandparents said I had to go.
It’s hard when no one wants you long enough to stay.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist or world-renowned psychologist to figure out that I’d rather be alone than face rejection ever again.I’ll take survival mechanisms for 100, Alex.I’ll work and come back to my ’70s apartment.Maybe I’ll take up a hobby like knitting.
I should get some cats.
Yikes, that’s a dark place to go to.I mean, I love cats, and my grandparents always had at least two at a time my entire life.Somehow now, that seems like a cry for help.I need to be strong.I need to be productive.I need to show them all that I am just fine on my own, and that I don’t need anyone to love me.I need to be a self-contained unit that doesn’t need anyone or anything.
I will also avoid the animal shelter for now.
If only to give myself something else to focus on, I walk to my new bedroom and try to figure out what I’m going to wear for this soccer thing.There is nothing even remotely athletic in my closet.Or in my suitcase, which has yet to be unpacked because I haven’t assembled my dresser yet.
I sit down on my floor, overwhelmed by the state of my apartment.The state of my life.Everything is all brand new, and I hate all of it.I make a vow to never leave my apartment or speak to anyone again in protest of all the change.
I can almost hear Richie tsk’ing at me from the great beyond.She’d say, "Rach, you’rethisclose to meeting TJ Doyle.To making physical contact.To sniffing him.Don’t let me down now."
Okay, fine.I can do this one thing from the list.One thing, and one thing only.If Richie has a problem with that, she can come back and haunt me herself.
But now, in all seriousness, what do I wear to this thing?
Chapter 7: TJ
I’m actually on time.Someone write this down.I walk into the field house, which is our typical practice facility, and take some video footage.Brandon Nix is already there, talking with Callaghan Entay.Brandon’s wearing his glasses.He usually reserves those for the mornings after late nights, so I expect him to be surly and hungover.
When I approach, I’m surprised to find him in a good mood.There are a bunch of staff members from JustSibs running around in their turquoise T-shirts, setting up stations and marking zones off with cones and sticks and orange tape.
Landon Stubbs joins us, and we start joking around with the ball, bouncing it off our legs to one another, like you’d do with a Hacky Sack.None of us is the type to stand still, and we’re not friends enough to really talk about anything important.Brandon, however, is talking a mile a minute about nothing and everything.
"Dude, are you on something?"I ask.I didn’t peg him as one to risk his career with drugs, but he’s definitely more high-strung and jittery than normal.
"No, just excited about this event."
He’s acting weird.I look over and I see Hannah, Entay’s girlfriend, recording us.She does the social media accounts for the Patriots, so I’m surprised to see her at a Buzzards event.Callaghan has drifted off, talking to someone near the goal.Since I don’t have to worry about him taking my head off for talking to his woman, I call out, "Hey, send me what you get."I add a quick "Please and thanks!"at the end so I don’t sound like a complete and total jerk.
I’m the opposite of smooth.
One of the handlers from Soccer for Sibs comes over and explains our assignments.Leora Deventhorpe had already sent us the itinerary with this on it, so it’s not a surprise.
The official person says, "Remember, today is about the siblings.Do what you can to make them feel special.We expect lots of social media posts, so make sure to smile big.Take your time with them.Thank you for donating your time and names to this event today."
I take that as my cue to whip out my phone and do some recording.I get footage of the field house, some of the stations, and, of course, me navigating it all.I’ll get the guys in this, too.I walk back to where they’re still standing and hear Brandon say, "I’d show them how to really kick a ball."
Hannah laughs."Oh, to have your confidence.We should have you put your money where your mouth is."
This is the Brandon we’re all used to.He seems a little calmer.Now that it doesn’t look like he’s tweaking out, I turn my phone lens toward him."What’s Brandon talking smack about now?I want to record this for posterity."
Brandon swats at the phone."You want to go viral at my expense."
They all make fun of my social media.I don’t think any of them realize how lucrative it can be.They think it’s a stupid hobby for a stupid guy.I laugh with Brandon so he can’t laugh at me."Same difference.What’s the bet?"
