Page 5 of Sportsball is for Lovers

“Talia and Sarah aren’t that bad,” I say carefully.

“What about Tamar?”

I laugh at the sneer on his face. He is not a fan of my third sister, and to be honest, I don’t blame him. They’ve only met once, but the experience was unpleasant for everyone involved. She misgendered his spouse, who is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns, and even after being corrected, Tamar continued to do it over and over again.

Talia, the oldest, and Sarah, the second eldest, are fine and pleasant. They’re just in a different part of life than I am. I’m the youngest; the only one not married, the only one who doesn’t have kids, the only one who has to work two and a half jobs to support herself.

The only one who doesn’t live in Scottsdale.

I get itchy just thinking about returning to my hometown. Actually being in town? I’m lucky I don’t have a panic attack every time I turn onto my parents’ street.

There is nothing wrong with my family. They’re fine. They’re normal.

They’re just… they don’t really understand me. They’ve never really understood who I am and what I like. We don’t have a lot in common.

There are multiple reasons I live across the country from them. Boston is my home now, not Scottsdale.

“It’s not until June, but I know if I don’t block out the time now, I’ll forget to book the tickets until they’re too expensive,” I tell Yoni.

“And you’ll need a hotel? Rental car?”

“Yes to hotel, no to car,” I decide. I can’t possibly stay at my parents’ house. And with one of my sisters? No way. I can ride-share around town as I need to, that’s easy enough, but I refuse to impose on them.

Because that’s what it would be: an imposition. No matter what they say, I know the truth. They don’t want me there.

He scribbles notes to himself, and I know that my part here is done; he’ll take care of the rest, even setting up the reminders on my calendar, so all I have to do is show up.

Okay, and pack. I don’t let him pack my suitcases. He puts away my grocery delivery, he’s brought me supreme-ultra size tampons, but I can’t stand the idea of him seeing my XXL granny panties.

We go for a walk and yes, it does feel nice to get some fresh air. Not that I’m ever going to tell the bastard that. When we get back to my apartment above the shawarma shop, he lingers in the doorway.

“You sure you don’t want to come out with me?” Yoni asks. “I’m meeting my brother for dinner.”

“I’m good, thanks. I don’t want to impose.” Mentally, I’ve moved on from my book-induced hyper-fixation, ready to curl up on the couch and scroll through Netflix for an hour until I give up and watch The Princess Bride again.

Yoni sighs. “You need to get out of the house.”

“I went for a walk with you.” I cross my arms over my chest.

“That’s a start. Now keep doing it.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s not snowing, there’s no frost warning, the wind chill is minimal. Get out of the house. Just for a little while.”

“I could call Sullivan…”

“Yes, do that,” Yoni says quickly. “You need to go out.”

Sullivan is usually down to get a drink or three. Sometimes his girlfriend tags along—she’s part of my Neurospicy Book Club, I love Johanna—but usually he and I will hit up a bar, he’ll sketch and I’ll write or doodle, and we’ll pass the time peacefully. When Johanna joins us, she tends to read, leaving me and Sully to chill.

Arielle has Asher.

Rachel has Erik.

Yoni has Elliott.

Everyone is paired up, coupled up, and I have…

I don’t even have a damn cat.