Chapter 42
Izzy
“Do your boobs hurt?” Penny asks, tilting her head to the side as she sips from her mug. “I’ve heard the nipples chafe.”
Bex makes a face, readjusting Charlie in her arms. “Unfortunately. I’m happy I can do it, but it’s not that fun.”
Mia and I share a look. While Mia is very much on the no kids train—a sentiment Sebastian is happy to share—I want kids one
day, but I have to admit, not much about newborn parenting is appealing. You get a cuddly baby, yes, but that same baby is
going to make chafed nipples seem like the least of your worries. I feel bad for Bex that James had to travel to Dallas for
his next game, but at least she has us.
I hold my mug of spiced tea close, letting the steam drift over my face. It’s nice, sitting at the kitchen table with Penny
on one side and Mia on the other, and Bex across from us, nursing her daughter. If someone told me back in high school that
a couple years later, all three of my brothers would have significant others to bring home for the holidays, I’d have laughed.
And yet here we are—and I have Nik, which, even a month ago, I wouldn’t have believed either.
“Do you have, like, a salve?” Penny continues. “Or does that make her not want to eat?”
Bex holds up a tin. “Christmas gift from Sandra. And no, she doesn’t seem to mind it.”
“Fortunate,” Mia says. She bites into another one of the peppermint cookies Sebastian made this morning, then scowls at it. “Okay, I seriously need to stop eating these. Christmas was a week ago.”
“He hasn’t gotten the memo yet,” I say cheerfully. “And I’m not going to tell him to halt the baking deliciousness.”
“Oh God, no, never,” Penny says.
Mia rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. Her default state when it comes to my brother.
“Have you started packing yet?” I ask.
“Ugh, don’t remind me.”
“It should be easy for you,” Bex teases. “Three black shirts, two pairs of black jeans, and your laptop.”
“You forgot Sebastian’s old jersey,” Penny says. “Which, in case you didn’t know, she sleeps in.”
Mia’s eyes widen. There’s a scuffle underneath the table; I’d bet the Hermès boots my parents got me for Christmas that she
just stomped on Penny’s foot. “I told you that while I was drunk.”
“And it is so adorable,” Penny says, a satisfied note in her voice.
Mia just flips her the bird.
“Hey,” Bex says, covering Charlie’s eyes. “Not in front of the baby.”
“I am looking forward to getting away from McKee,” Mia says, hugging her knees to her chest. To Bex’s point, she’s wearing
a NASA sweatshirt and black leggings. “I’ve never traveled... well, anywhere, really. I’ll happily take Switzerland.”
“I wish I didn’t have to go back,” I admit. “Let me run away to Switzerland with you.”
The week in between Christmas and New Year’s has been blissfully uneventful, even though I still feel a tug of emotion whenever I think about Christmas Eve. Nik has been here, bonding with my family, sleeping beside me every night. He loved the Rift tickets I gifted him, and surprised me with a bracelet to match the necklace he gave me in Boston, plus half a dozen other wildly extravagant presents. All week, we’ve kept things light, but tonight is New Year’s Eve, and once it passes, we’ll be that much closer to the start of next semester.
And I’ll be that much closer to facing volleyball again.
Nik might have his own expectations to live up to—expectations that I’m sure involve his father, even if he refuses to talk
about it—but he doesn’t know what my family is like. I didn’t just fail. I imploded. Everything spilled out of me at the hospital;
I told Dad about my season with Coach Alexis, and my fight with Nik, and my idiotic choice to go to that party. He listened
and, instead of getting into it, just hugged me and told me to rest, but I know there’s a longer interrogation coming.
“Is it volleyball?” Penny asks tentatively.
I need another cookie for this. I break it in half with a bit too much force, sending crumbs everywhere. “At least the season
is over.”
“There’s spring league.”
I scowl at the cookie. Stupid spring league.
“You are going to do spring league, right?”
“It’s optional.”
“You can’t get back into your coach’s good graces if you don’t do it.”
I smash the cookie, letting the pieces fall over my plate. I’m making a mess, but I don’t care. Penny’s eyes narrow with concern;
she fiddles with the end of her fishtail braid. Bex makes a soft noise, patting Charlie’s tiny back.
“Maybe I don’t,” I retort. “Maybe I quit.”
The breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh. Every time I’ve thought about volleyball lately, my thoughts have looped back around to that one painful, surprisingly tempting word. When the doctor in the hospital told me that I’d be able to get back on the court in a few weeks, he smiled like he expected me to be thrilled. I was supposed to feel that way, but I didn’t. I didn’t feel anything approximating happiness or gratitude or even relief. I just felt empty and tired.
“That’s bulls—bullcrap,” Mia says.
“Seb quit baseball. Did you call that bullcrap?”
“Sebastian quit baseball for another career,” Mia says evenly, refusing to rise to my admittedly weak bait. “One he’s better
suited to anyway. That’s not the same and you know it.”
“At least he could have made baseball a career, if he wanted.” I dig my nails into my palms. “Volleyball doesn’t lead anywhere
after graduation. It’s not the same as him or James or Cooper or—or Nik. It doesn’t mean anything anyway.”
“That’s not a reason to quit,” she says.
I ignore her. “And now that I screwed myself over, my coach will never give me what I want. She might not even play me again.
Definitely not at setter. What’s the point of putting myself through all of the preparation for a team I don’t have a place
on?”
“You can keep—”
“My whole life shattered when I tore my ACL,” Penny interrupts. “I didn’t skate competitively again.”
“That’s not the same,” I say. “That wasn’t your fault.”
“Wasn’t it?” she says. “If I’d been focused during that routine, maybe I wouldn’t have fallen.”
“I didn’t get injured. I broke a rule.”
“And your coach is a bitter bitch,” Mia says. “Sorry, Bex.”
“I’ll let it slide,” Bex says. “It’s true, anyway. She’s never liked you, which has everything to do with her, not you.”
Penny undoes her braid, shaking out her hair. “Look. The point is, I learned to love it again. I love my job at the rink.
I love teaching classes with Cooper. I love lacing up my skates and practicing—even though I’m not preparing for a competition.”
I sigh, rubbing my forehead. The skin, freshly devoid of stitches, still feels tender. It’s definitely leaving a scar, albeit a much smaller one than the slash on Nik’s face. “It’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it?” she says. “You’re an athlete. Screw anyone who is making you think otherwise.”
It’s a nice sentiment, but it doesn’t change the fact that everyone around me is amazing at their sports. I’ve tried my best
to keep up, but I’ve been chasing my family since the moment I was born. I blink, focusing on my half-empty mug. Sometimes
the kind, logical thing feels like a slap.
I stand, taking my tea with me. “Okay.”
“Izzy,” Penny says as I walk out of the kitchen. I gnaw the inside of my cheek. I know she’s just trying to help, but I’m
not in the mood to hear it. It was stupid to bring it up in the first place.
In the hallway, someone tugs on my sleeve. I’m expecting Penny, but it’s Bex. She adjusts Charlie from one arm to the other.
“Can we talk?” she says. “Just the two of us?”
I nod warily. “If it’s about volleyball—”
“It’s not, although I agree with them, for the record,” she says. “It’s about my wedding.”
I stand straighter. Finally, something way more fun to think about. I’ve been waiting for this ever since she and James postponed
the original one in August. “Did you get in touch with Katherine?”
“I want you to do it,” she says. “I’ll pay you, of course.”
I laugh slightly. “I’m not a wedding planner.”
“When I spoke to Katherine, she agreed to help, but she wanted you to lead it.”
“She didn’t mention... Really?”
“Really.” Bex touches my shoulder comfortingly. “You’re still thinking about doing this for a career, right?”
For the first time since the hospital, I feel a hint of excitement. Volleyball is fraught right now, even if doing spring league would mean more time with Victoria and the rest of our friends. But planning Bex and James’s wedding, with some help from Katherine? It would be like last summer again. Maybe even a real stepping-stone to a future career. I haven’t stopped thinking about the wedding that Nik and I crashed in Boston.
The warmth fades as something occurs to me. “Are you just asking because of what happened?”
“Of course not. I asked you because you’re talented and passionate. The fact you’re my future sister-in-law is the cherry
on top.”
“Aren’t you legally married already?”
Her eyes sparkle. “You and I both know it won’t count for real until I walk down the aisle.”
I rock on my heels, my mind already full of color schemes and fabrics and venue options. “I... I need to talk to my parents.”