Ella
I’m a person who has sex. Lots of sex.
Except it’s all been with someone I should not bang.
Last night, I thought the world was going to swallow me whole when Bernard kissed me not only in front of my brother but with half his teammates there to witness.
I got the sense that some of the guys knew more than they let on when they jumped in with explanations, but Jason eventually seemed to buy the fact that Bernard was drunk, and apparently gets real affectionate when he hits the sauce.
I lie still for a minute, alone in Bernard’s bed, staring at the closet where my clothes now hang beside his.
The drawer he cleared for me is full. My shoes are lined up next to his.
From this angle, the room looks like two people live in it, which is a problem because only one of us is supposed to.
I shower, dress, and emerge to find Jason at the kitchen counter shoveling eggs into his mouth while scrolling his phone. Bernard is on the couch with his knee elevated, watching highlights. They look like two guys sharing an apartment. Normal. Fine.
I’m back to being an intruder in their bachelor lives.
Bernard glances at me when I enter the kitchen. Nothing on his face but casual friendliness. "Morning."
"Morning." I pour coffee and sit on the stool, and … we are two people who had sex in every room of this apartment and are now performing polite distance over mugs of French roast.
Jason talks about today's practice schedule. I nod, eat a banana, and feel Bernard's presence in the room like a frequency only I can hear.
I leave for my shift without touching him. Without looking at him longer than a roommate would. I walk to the elevator with my jaw clenched and my chest tight, and I think: this is how it has to be.
The texting starts at noon.
Bernard
This couch is a crime against humanity.
Bernard
It's a $10,000 torture device, and it smells like my sadness.
Me
Dramatic much?
Bernard
I woke up at 3 am and almost walked to the bedroom.
I stare at that message. My thumb hovers. I type and delete three responses before settling on:
Me
We need to talk about rules.
Bernard
I know.
Me
Tonight? When Jason goes to sleep?
Bernard
We’ve got a game tonight. It’ll be late.
Me
I don’t work tomorrow. I can stay up so we can figure this out.
I pocket my phone and press my palms against my eyes. Figure this out. Like, there's a protocol. Why aren’t there protocols for people like there are for assessing trauma patients?
I walk home from work today, since the weather is decent and I’ve got a lot on my mind.
It occurs to me that I could go to the guys’ games.
Shouldn’t one of them put tickets aside for me or something?
In a fantasy world, Bernard would get me seats right on the blue line, and I’d wear his jersey like I did the last time we had sex on the couch.
My cheeks heat at the memory, both because he made me come so many times and because I really like spending time with the guy I used to pray would disappear from the backseat of my parents’ car.
At home, I change into sweats, make myself a sandwich, and study at the counter until I hear keys in the lock.
Jason’s voice arrives before he does, whooping. “Did you see me give that Buffalo asshole a face wash? Man, I’m amped up for another go at them tomorrow.”
Bernard enters the room, and his eyes snap directly to me, revealing an anxious expression before he slides on a mask of indifference as my brother squeezes past him en route to the snack cupboard. “Ellie-belly, you haven’t been eating my jerky, have you? We talked about this.”
I groan. “I have a negative desire to eat your elk parts, Jason.”
He holds up a stick of dehydrated meat like a pointer. “Just checking. I’m hitting the sack.” His door slams and rock music blasts, slightly muffled, moments later.
This means Bernard and I are alone for the moment. I close the laptop and walk over to where he’s seated stiffly on the couch, still wearing the suit he must have put on to watch the game from the stands. "Hey."
"Hey." He starts loosening his tie.
"So." I tap my hands on my thighs.
"So."
I tuck my feet under me and face him. "We need ground rules. For when Jason's home."
He pulls off his belt and sets it on the coffee table. "Okay."
"No touching. Not in common areas, not where he could walk in."
"Okay."
"No lingering looks. No inside jokes he can't follow. No calling me anything that isn't my name."
"I only ever call you your name."
"You called me baby the other night." I press my legs together at the memory of my body’s response to hearing him call me that, like a treasured, precious thing.
Something flickers across his face. He remembers. "That was … a heat of the moment thing."
"It was a nice heat-of-the-moment thing. But not when Jason's around."
"Okay,” he repeats, and his voice is flat. Not angry. Just drained. Like I'm reading him a list of things he's lost.
"Bernard."
"I'm fine with the rules, Ella. They make sense."
"But?"
He rubs the back of his neck. Stares at the curtains he hung. "No buts. You're right. This is smart."
He means it. I can tell he does. But I can also tell that something in him is folding inward, a door closing that was wide open five days ago, and I don't know how to keep it ajar without risking everything.
A long time passes before he speaks. Finally, he gestures at the laptop on the counter. “You want me to quiz you? Your boards are coming up."
We study. Side by side on the couch, a careful eight inches between us. He asks me about pharmacokinetics, and I answer correctly, and he says "good" in his normal voice, and I miss the playfulness he shows so often when we're alone.
After I ace a bunch of questions, I go to bed. I lie in the dark and hear Bernard settling onto the couch, hear the leather squeak as he shifts, trying to find a position that doesn't hurt his knee.
My phone glows.
Bernard
Goodnight, Ella.
Me
Goodnight.
I press the phone against my chest and close my eyes.
I’m halfway through a shift, a few days later, when my phone starts going wild in my pocket.
I’ve been added to some sort of group chat titled FURY PAWS , and the first message I see is:
Cam
WELCOME ELLA!! The partners and wives are so excited to meet you properly
Essence
Hi babe!! Cappy said you were at Gianna's on Saturday. SO glad you're settling in Pittsburgh!
Cam
We heard someone got a kiss at the meatball joint
My stomach drops through the floor.
Essence
Spill immediately
I type fast, thumbs clumsy on the screen.
Me
Ha, no, that was just Howie being drunk. I'm Jason's sister, that's all. Howie kisses everyone when he's wasted, apparently.
Cam
LOL that tracks. Howie kissed Banksy at a charity event last year, and Banksy still talks about it.
Essence
Girl, either way, you are one of us now. Next home game, you're sitting with us. No arguments.
Emerson
Hi Ella! I'm Emerson, Gunnar's wife. Welcome to the group These folks saved my life when I moved to Pittsburgh.
Lena
Lena here — team dentist (and Alder's partner, hi). So which Fury guy should we set you up with? We've got options
My heart hammers at the speed with which I lost control of this situation. I just wanted someone to have sex with me so I would know what it felt like. And, my traitorous brain reminds me, I kept on having sex with that person because he turned out to be incredible.
Me
Haha, no guys needed! Just here to study for my nursing boards and cheer on my brother. Thanks for the warm welcome though
Cam
Ok, but if you change your mind, we have OPINIONS
Essence
Strong opinions
Emerson
Very strong. Welcome, Ella
I lock my phone, lean against the wall, and breathe.
These folks are warm and welcoming and funny, and they just invited me into the inner circle of Fury life, and all I can think is: will my brother’s rules take this from me?
These friendly people in my life, paired with the amazing physical stuff I’ve been doing with Bernard…
it all feels so vibrant and addictive. I’m worried it will all slip away, like most things I yearn for.
Saturday morning, Aarthi picks me up in the Honda Civic. The READY TO WED bumper sticker now has a sticky note over it that says NOT READY — STOP ASKING, which Aarthi claims her mother hasn't noticed yet.
McKenzie is in the back with coffees and a resistance band she's been using to "pre-game" for silks. "I watched YouTube tutorials all week," she announces. "I can almost do a basic inversion."
"I pulled a muscle brushing my teeth this morning," Aarthi says. "So we're at different levels."
The studio is busier this time — more women, a few regulars who nod at us as we belong. Jules remembers our names. We warm up, stretch, and I feel the familiar burn in my shoulders as I grip the silk and start to climb.
I'm better this week. Stronger. My foot lock clicks into place on the first try, and I hold it, suspended, reaching for the next grip. My body remembers what my brain learned last time, and the muscle memory feels like a revelation, proof that I can learn things when the format is right.
McKenzie nails an inversion and cheers so loud that Jules has to shush her.
Aarthi manages a full climb and descends with a controlled grace that surprises all of us, including Aarthi.
I work on transitions from the foot lock, leaning back, extending, and finding shapes in the silk that feel like mine.
After class, we sprawl on the mats, sweaty and raw-handed, passing around a water bottle.
"So," McKenzie says. "Are you okay?"
I look at her. "What?"
"You seem off." She rolls onto her side, facing me. "Like your body's here but your brain is in another zip code."
"I'm fine."
Aarthi sits up. "Your ‘fine’ has a very specific look, and it's the same one you had when you failed that practice test."
"I didn't fail anything. I actually scheduled my real boards.” I say this brightly, realizing this is a big deal I should have led with when they picked me up. "February twenty-ninth. Lucky Leap Day, right?”
McKenzie claps. "That's huge! Ella! I love that you’re doing it on Leap Day.”
"We should celebrate," Aarthi says. "That's major."
"It's terrifying, is what it is."
"It's both." McKenzie studies me. "But that's not what's eating you. Is it the roommate situation?"
My throat tightens. "What do you mean?"
“We’re all stressed about work, but you seem extra…agitated,” Aarthi says gently. “I’m sensing a vibe.”
I laugh despite myself. "I just … need space from my brother.
Living with Jason is a lot. He's loud, and he's everywhere, and I can't …
" I trail off. Regroup. "I need my own life.
I need to pass this test so I can get a real paycheck, find my own place, and just be Ella. Not Baby Rookie. Not someone's sister."
They nod. McKenzie squeezes my arm. Aarthi bumps her shoulder against mine.
"You're already Ella to us," McKenzie says. "Have been since day one."
I smile, and it's real, but it's not the whole truth. The whole truth is that it's not Jason I've gotten too close to in that apartment. It's not my brother's shadow I'm struggling to escape anymore.
It's Bernard's gravity. The pull of him.
I need to pass this test. I need my own apartment. I need to figure out what this thing with Bernard is before it figures itself out in the worst possible way.
I roll off the mat, lace up my shoes, and follow my friends into the cold Pittsburgh morning.