Can i officiate the wedding?
Mickey: K bye talk to you n ever
FOUR
Even with headphones over my ears and my three oldest sisters talking over one another on the screen of my laptop, I still hear the thump of bass-heavy music coming from all directions. Across the room, Dorian has his own headphones on, head bobbing slightly along with whatever screaming mess he’s listening to while doing homework.
My oldest sisters are a lot older and we don’t get to talk much, but we’re still pretty close thanks to group chats and Snapchat. Mikayla’s the oldest at thirty, born when Mom and Dad were still teenagers, less than a year after they met in the hospital at the Olympics when Mom twisted her ankle in training and Dad took a puck to the face in a game against Finland. Now Mikayla’s a sports information director at a university in Arizona, engaged to Spencer Brimm of the Arizona Coyotes with a baby on the way. Her life is disgustingly put together.
Nicolette and Madison are twenty-eight, identical twins who I probably wouldn’t be able to tell apart if it weren’t for their haircuts, that’s how little I see them. Nicolette keeps hers long and braided, always looking like she’s ready to hit Olympic ice all over again. Madison has hers cut to her chin. She went to school for teaching and got a job right out of college and has coached her school’s varsity field hockey team to three state championships since.
I am constantly overwhelmed and astounded by how incredible all my sisters are in all the things they do. The list of their successes is never-ending. But nobody seems to care about them. Because they’re women. Because women kicking ass in their sports means less to them than an unproven seventeen-year-old boy with nothing to show for himself but a name.
Sometimes. A lot of the time. I really hate myself.
I pull my knees up to hide my frown from them. Now’s not the time to get into one of my moods. I have plans tonight, and I’m not about to let my brain ruin my fun.
On the screen of my laptop, Nicolette’s eating pizza and drinking wine in her apartment in Colorado Springs. Madison’s curled up in bed at Mom and Dad’s house with a blanket pulled up to her chin, and Mikayla’s in her office at the university.
“If you had a real job, you’d understand the struggle, Cole,” Mikayla murmurs. Her eyes are fixed on her work computer, fingers flying over the keyboard. Madison’s squeaky yawn sounds like an agreement. “This school’s top sport is volleyball, and I’m leaving my athletic department in the hands of a guy who doesn’t even know what a libero is. For six weeks! I’m seriously considering giving birth in my office.”
“And that is precisely why I will never have a real job.” Nicolette raises her wineglass in a toast with herself before swallowing a mouthful. She still has glitter on her eyelids from her day at the rink. “Look at this, what is it, nine on the east coast? And Mad’s half-asleep? It’s Friday night, dude, fuck a real job.”
“And you’re drinking wine alone,” Madison says, voice as sweet and soft as always. “None of us are winners here.”
“I am choosing to drink wine alone,” Nicolette insists. “I had options. This was the most enticing.”
“What about you, Mickey?” Mikayla asks. “Aren’t you supposed to be at a party with Bailey and Lilah?”
“I’m waiting for them to get here so we can walk together,” I say.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” Nicolette leans in closer to her screen, squinting at me with a slight curl to her lip.
I look down at my plain gray T-shirt and jeans. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Boring,” Nicolette says, drawing out the vowels. “How are you gonna pull college girls looking like that?”
“Nicolette,” Madison scolds her.
“I’m not trying to pull anyone,” I say.
“Ah, right.” Nicolette rolls her eyes. “Hockey over everything. No distractions.”
There’s a knock on the door, loud and sharp. Before either Dorian or I can get up to answer it, the door opens and my other sisters, Bailey and Delilah, come striding in like they own the place, Jade following behind them. Bailey’s cheeks are red and her hair’s a disaster. She’s been pregaming hard. The smell of alcohol wafts in after her as she takes one look at me and goes straight to my closet without a word, pulling out shirts and dropping them on the floor.
I haven’t seen much of her at school so far. She’s a thesis-ing senior with two boyfriends—Sidney and Karim—who spent their summer in Europe with USA Lacrosse, so she’s been busy catching up with them when she’s not working. But I was in Buffalo with her for a couple weeks over the summer, helping her run a youth lacrosse camp, so I’ve seen more of her than any of my other sisters recently.
Delilah and Jade cram themselves onto my bed on either side of me, and Delilah unplugs my headphones when she sees who I’m talking to. I hand the computer off to her and climb out of bed to monitor the mess Bailey’s making of my closet. She yanks a black-and-red flannel off its hanger and shrugs it on over her black tank top, then digs right back in. She’s my only sister who’s shorter than me, so the sleeves of my shirt hang to her fingertips.
“What’re you doing?” I ask over her shoulder.
Behind me, it sounds like Jade and Dorian are talking about the band posters on his wall, and Delilah is complaining about one of her professors to Mikayla, who had the same major as her.
“Finding you something to wear that doesn’t make you look like a slob,” Bailey says. After all that digging and throwing clothes all over my room, she finally settles on a plain white V-neck T-shirt. Seriously. How is that any better than what I’ve got on? She shoves it in my arms before opening the dresser drawers until she finds my jeans.
“We’re supposed to stay in tonight,” Dorian says hesitantly, like he’s afraid to get on their bad side.
“Just tell Zero we took him to the lax house.” Delilah snickers and Jade gives her an elbow to the ribs like she knows all about the hockey-lacrosse rivalry. Delilah doesn’t even flinch, just puts an arm across her shoulders. “He’ll love that.”
“Or don’t,” I mumble. Bailey throws my tightest pair of black jeans at me and motions for me to change before collapsing over Delilah’s and Jade’s laps to join the video chat.
I miss having us all together in the same room. It’s such a rare thing, even being able to hear all their voices at once makes my heart squeeze.
I throw on the new outfit plus a hoodie for the walk, and Bailey tumbles off the bed to comb her hands through my hair until it meets her drunken standards. She and Delilah blow kisses at our older sisters while Jade waves, and I give Dorian the briefest of glances before saying, “Love you guys, bye,” closing the laptop, and rushing out of the room.
I know I’ll hear about that display of humanity later.
* * *
WE WALK THE two miles to the men’s lacrosse house off campus, Bailey’s arm linked through mine while Delilah gives Jade a piggyback ride the whole way.
“Sports really are good for something!” Jade cheers, pumping a fist over her head.
I can’t help but smile at them. Even with Jade’s lack of a sports background, they’re so ridiculously perfect for each other it makes me want to puke.
“How are you gonna survive the night surrounded by jocks?” Bailey asks. She leans her head on my shoulder, and even though her legs and words are steady now, she’ll be struggling with another drink or two.
“I’m dating a James,” Jade says. “I have to survive a lifetime surrounded by you sports fiends.” None of us can argue with that.