With that admission, my two brothers, whom I’m about to disown, stand up.My quads, already sore from the game, are screaming.I’m going to need to visit the massage therapist first thing in the morning.Gingerly, I get to my feet."And her name isn’t actually Rachel.It’s—" I can’t remember what she had me write.And there I was, feeling bad because I can’t spell, when it was all a lie."She made up some cock-and-bull story about a sick sister, and it was her sister who likes soccer, not her.All while she’s at an event for siblings of sick kids.And then she just so happens to end up—wait, how is she even here?How did this all come about?"
"Rachel was sitting next to us at the game," my mom supplies, looking from me to Rachel and back again.I can see her wheels are turning.
"Yeah, and how did that happen?"I ask.
Every eye in the place turns to Rachel.Or whatever her name is.
"Tho … Those were the seats they gave me with the tickets for the event," she stammers."I didn’t pick them.I didn’t even know who I was sitting next to."
Nicky volunteers, "She didn’t even watch the game.She was reading a book."
A book?People still read books?"Who comes to a professional soccer game and reads a book?"I shout.I don’t know if I’m more shocked or offended.
She shrugs."Someone who doesn’t care about soccer.But also someone who paid $250 for that stupid event and tickets just to fulfill my sister’s dying wish."With that, she walks out the door.
That shuts me up fast.
She did say her sister was the fan.
Was.
Past tense.Shit.I truly am an idiot.
Which my brothers promptly remind me of the minute the door closes with Rachel on the other side.Even my mom chides me."Tyler Jeremiah, I did not raise you to be rude like that.You should go apologize to that poor young lady."
I nod.I should.
"Jesus, Tyler, go!"my dad barks.He’s a man of few words, so when he speaks, I tend to listen.I hightail it out to the parking lot, reaching her Honda Civic just as the engine roars to life.Well, as much as the engine of a Honda Civic can roar.I’m waving frantically.It must look foolish enough to get her attention because she rolls down the window.
"Let the record show that you approached me, lest you accuse me of stalking and forcing this interaction," she says with her mouth pulled into a tight line.
"You a lawyer?"I ask.I hold my hands up as if in surrender.
"I don’t feel like talking about my shitty job.Can you just say what you have to say so I can go home?It’s been a long day."
Right.Now what was I going to say?Oh, yeah.That."Um."I look at my feet and kick some of the gravel in the parking lot."I … uh … I mean, your sister.The one who wants to meet me …" If I phrase it that way, she can correct me, and I don’t have to ask directly.
"Wanted."
Her solitary word hits me like a punch to the gut.For as much as I want to kill my brothers most of the time—like right now—I cannot imagine a world without them in it."I’m sorry."I don’t know what else to say.
Her gaze drops, and sadness wafts off her.It envelops her.I don’t know how I didn’t see it before."And I’m guessing my mom basically forced herself into your space and then demanded you go out for ice cream in such a way that you felt you had no choice.She’s a very pushy woman.Don’t let her small stature fool you.I’m scared shitless of her."
A tiny smile cracks through, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
I’m on a roll.Might as well continue."And you thought this would be what your sister would want you to do, to hang out with me."
The smile’s gone, and she shakes her head in a vehement denial."I had no idea who I was sitting next to.Your mom said they were meeting up with Tyler."
"That’s my name."
"Yeah, but I only know you as TJ.That’s what Richie put on her list, and that’s what your ClikClak handle says.I didn’t do a deep dive."
Interesting, if she’s telling the truth."She left you a list?"
Rachel shrugs."Pretty much.There’s not much on it I can actually accomplish, except for meeting you.And now I have and can cross it off.Good enough."Her window begins to roll up.
Good enough?That can’t be her response.Her sister had to have reasons for putting these things on the list.Like me.Why was I on her list?"Is there anything I can do to help fulfill this experience?"The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.Why am I so invested?
