Chapter 4
Lineout: The forwards from each team line up, and the ball is thrown in between them. Players are then lifted into the air by teammates
to catch or tap the ball back to their side.
Translation: It’s basically a buffet of sweaty, bulging man muscle.
Everly
“Dad!” I yell from across the grass when I lay eyes on the man I owe the past four years of my life to. Hell, all my life.
He’s propped under a thousand-year-old tree, dressed in a crisp, gray suit and a black tie, looking like the perfect, put-together
businessman he always is. However, the moment he spots me through the sea of students, his face contorts with overwhelming
pride and sadness.
In seconds, he’s closed the space between us and scooped me into his arms, squeezing my guts like he hasn’t seen me all year.
Because he hasn’t.
For the first time, I didn’t come home over any of my holiday breaks.
Cliona and I did a bunch of European excursions every chance we got.
We backpacked in Greece and toured all the areas of Ireland I hadn’t seen yet.
We roughed it at a hostel in Barcelona and accomplished more travel in my last year than I did in my first three years in Dublin.
But it was my final year, and I wanted to see all that I could before coming home.
I was so busy I didn’t even have a window for my family to come see me.
It’s incredible how easy it is to be adventurous when you have a great friend to travel with.
However, all that waiting makes this moment feel ten times more extraordinary.
“Damn, I’ve missed you, kid,” Dad murmurs into my hair, lifting me up off the ground as he crushes me to him.
“Evie!” Ethan yells, and his arms wrap around my waist as Dad releases me. “What did you do to your hair?”
“Hey, butthead!” I tease and bend down to give him a big squeeze. “What did you do to your body? You’re huge!”
My mom, Jessica, and her wife, Kailey, find me next, pulling me in for long, lingering hugs. They both play with my newly
chopped hair—I cut it into a bob last week after finals. It was totally unplanned, but one second, I was watching this video
online of a girl with my kind of hair looking fresh and fabulous, and the next, I was squealing in my bathroom as Cliona cut
my long ponytail off. It ended with a trip to a hair stylist to give the bob some shape, but now I love it.
When my moms have finished obsessing over how great my hair looks, I glance around and find Cozy standing back in the distance,
awaiting her turn. She does that a lot to be respectful to my mom, but it’s totally unnecessary because everyone loves Cozy,
practically as much as my dad does. She’s impossible not to love.
With a laugh, my mom grabs Cozy’s arm and pulls her into the group so I can assault my stepmother with a hug too. Three moms,
a dad, and a brother is quite the unconventional family, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.
“I’m glad you made it,” I say, turning to look up at my dad.
“Damn flight delay,” he mutters, his face tight and irritated.
“Don’t get him going again,” Cozy chides and looks to me. “Your dad was literally trying to book a private plane at the airport
while we waited.”
“If my plane was big enough to do international, I would have fired that up, believe me,” he growls seriously. “They make it way too difficult to book last-minute private flights. I’m going to write a strongly worded email to that charter plane company.”
“You do that, Max.” Cozy pats my dad on the chest, and he glowers down at her, fighting back a smile that only she puts on
his face like that.
“Fletcher!” a female voice calls out, and my whole family turns to see Cliona running toward me. It’s move-out weekend at
Trinity, and the whole campus is abuzz. Finals results and graduation ceremonies don’t happen for a few months, so it’s just
a lot of families showing up to help get their kids home. “Your family made it, I see.”
“Just barely,” Dad grumbles under his breath.
“You must be the roommate,” Cozy peals excitedly. “Everly has told me so much about you.”
With a firm yank, Cozy pulls Cliona into a hug, and my roomie looks shocked at first but then sinks into it as everyone does
with this woman. Cozy gives the best frickin’ hugs. She says it’s because she’s plus-sized, and plus-sized people are cuddlier,
but I think it has far more to do with her heart than her body.
A shiver runs up my spine when I spot Wolf approaching at a slow, leisurely pace toward us. He was in our room this morning,
helping Cliona with her boxes, and I couldn’t help but admire his huge muscles flexing around every load he hauled out in
his silent but grumpy way that is his standard mood, it would seem.
His gold cross necklace shimmers over top of sleek black button-down.
I’m shocked to see him dressed so formally for this meeting.
He looks almost proper with his ink and thick thighs covered up.
It contrasts greatly with the version of him I’ve become used to on campus.
This is definitely a version of Wolf I like seeing.
Feeling suddenly parched, I turn away and clear my throat to do quick introductions, avoiding eye contact with the terrifying
Irishman who’s about to fly over an ocean with me and spend the entire summer in my vicinity.
“This is my dad, Max. My moms, Jessica, Kailey, and Cozy. And my brother, Ethan.”
“Oh, go on.” Cliona balks. “You have quite a crew here, Fletcher. And this doesn’t even include those crazy uncles you told
me about.”
I laugh and shrug. “Yeah, everyone wanted to get one last glimpse of campus before I say goodbye.”
“That’s lovely,” Cliona says with a smile. “This is my brother, Conri, by the way. Everyone calls him Wolf.”
All eyes move to the goliath beside Cliona and then shift upward in unison.
“Must be all those Irish potatoes!” Cozy says with a laugh as she yanks Wolf down for a hug next. I fight back a laugh as
his face tightens with irritated confusion. “Why do they call you Wolf, then?”
He clears his throat like it’s sore. “Conri means Wolf. Something my gran started when I was little.” He shrugs like he’s
sorry he had to say that.
“Nothing little about you!”
“He used to be a runt,” Cliona laughs and then winces when Conri cuts her a menacing glower.
“You’re the one flying home with us tomorrow, I take it?” Dad steps forward.
Wolf frowns at my dad’s offered hand but thankfully reaches out to shake it. “Yes, sir.”
“Took an act of Congress to get the J-1 visa approved so quickly, but sounds like you’re all set now.”
Wolf clears his throat and forces a smile that looks painful. I have to cover my mouth to hide my amusement because, I have to admit, it’s fun to see Wolf being the uncomfortable one for once instead of making everyone else feel uncomfortable.
The past several weeks, I’ve had to text him with all the things that he needed to send my family back home in order to get
his work situation set up, and I swear the guy has a character limit on his text plan because all I ever got back was “K.” I assume he uttered a few more words to Trista when he interviewed with her for the job. In all honesty, I was surprised
she said yes to it all. But that’s Trista. The girl is a think-outside-the-box type of person, and hiring a bad-boy rugby
player to be her farmhand for the summer is way outside the box.
It’s all maddening because if the roles were reversed and it was Wolf doing me this massive favor with his family and getting
me set up with a huge opportunity, I would certainly find some modicum of dialogue for the host family.
“We so appreciate your help with everything, Mr. Fletcher,” Cliona says cheerily. “Wolf is thrilled at the opportunity to
attend the rugby camp in Denver, and it wouldn’t be possible without your family—”
“Thank you for saying that,” Dad interjects, offering Cliona a polite smile and then directing it to Wolf. “But you can thank
my sister-in-law, whose rescue center it is. I merely just helped with the paperwork.”
“And booked Conri’s flight,” Cliona adds with a wobbly smile. “That was extremely generous, Mr.—”
“Please call me Max. Not even my father went by Mr. Fletcher.”
The mention of Grandpa causes my heart to squeeze inside my chest. It’s been five years, and it still feels weird that he’s missing all of this.
If it’s this hard for me still, I can’t imagine how my grandma must be feeling back home.
I make a mental note to carve out some quality time with her upon my return.
We’ve been emailing during my time here, so she’s well updated on my life and me on hers, but I still miss seeing her in the flesh.
As if Cliona senses my shift in mood, she reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me close to her.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t meet your parents today, Cliona and Wolf,” my mom says with a soft smile.
“They couldn’t leave the shop, I’m afraid, but we’ll be home tonight for a big family dinner. Mam’s doing a proper roast.”
Cliona smiles nervously at all four of my parents. I’m sure it’s a weird feeling for her to be leaving one of the most prestigious
colleges in all of Ireland and not have her parents here to even take a photo of her and her brother. Cliona shakes her shoulders
and releases my hand to give everyone a wave. “We best get going so we’re not late. Should we do our final goodbye now, Fletch?”
“I guess,” I reply, a knot instantly forming in my throat.
She pulls me in for a bone-crushing hug that radiates through every part of me. I thought Clio and I shed all our tears last
night as we spread out in our tiny, dilapidated dorm room. We shoved our mattresses together on the floor and reminisced about
our college and travel experiences over takeout and macaroon bars until neither of us could keep our eyes open a moment longer.
This morning, we cried as we packed our last few items, and then we cried as Wolf took pictures of us in front of the Rubrics