Page 16 of Love on the Waiver Wire

“Isla honey, you look so good!”

The second I open my door, I’m bombarded with hugs. My parents are here, and although they’re staying with Leo, we met at my place to get ready for the game together.

They want to get there early to take full advantage of Leo’s box and the food the stadium provides there.

“I love that color jersey on you; I swear it makes you glow,” my mom tells me, wrapping herself around me again.

“Thank you, it’s my favorite of theirs too.”

I’m wearing my favorite Warner jersey, the number eight sitting proudly on both sides of it. No matter how annoying my brother can be, I’m proud of him.

“I can’t believe how far your brother has come, can you?” Mom asks as she digs around in her purse for mints.

“I can’t either,” I say, but I can. Leo has always been the golden child. The one everyone thought would get far in life no matter what. He was destined for greatness while I was stuck in his shadow.

Not that I blame him for being great. I’m happy for him. I am. I just get tired of hearing about it sometimes.

“You guys ready to go?” my dad asks from his spot near the door. He’s dressed from top to bottom in Cobra gear, the purple looking a bit out of place on him.

“Yeah, one sec.” I grab my purse, meeting them at the door. Since it’s not that long of a walk to the stadium, we’re doing just that. Walking.

My parents decided that when I left for college, they would take full advantage of their empty-nest status and travel the world. Although they got a couple months into their worldwide party, my mom became obsessed with Scotland, and they ended up staying. She had dual citizenship anyway.

I talk to my parents about how their trip over was and how the cows are doing back home as we pass hundreds of people in purple and, every once in a while, someone in blue.

“Oh, you have to come visit us and see them, Isla. They’re just the cutest little guys ever. I wish I could have brought one home for you.”

“I don’t think their owners would have liked that very much, Mom,” I tell her.

“Well, of course not. But I still wish I could have. They’re just the happiest little things you’ll ever see. I just love it there.”

“I think your mother was meant to live there all along,” my dad says.

I can believe it. My mom’s grandmother immigrated here from Scotland and going back there was always super important to her. We grew up learning about it; my mom daydreamed about the day she could afford to travel and visit again.

Then, Leo found his love of football.

It started out small. He played in high school, and as a family born and raised in Pennsylvania, high school sports aren’t as big as they are the further you travel south. It was a fun extracurricular activity for him but nothing anyone thought would go that much further.

It really started when he led his Division Two team to a title. It was the first one they had in twenty years. He eventually had a highlight reel made and was offered scholarships to at least a dozen universities around the country. He’d practice harder than ever there, eventually going on to win the Heisman and a championship.

From there, Leo was invited to the NFL Combine and would later be drafted first overall. We grew up Baltimore Cobras fans, so it was exciting for us all. He could stay home and do what he loved.

Everyone was so happy for him.

I was, too. Really. I was. And I’m forever proud of him. He’s worked incredibly hard to get where he is now. It’s just an enormous shadow to live under, and I’ve been striving every day to climb out of it and not be Leo Warner’s little sister but Isla Warner, an artist who’s also pursuing what she loves to do.

My parents try their hardest to acknowledge my accomplishments, but when you have one of the best NFL players in the league as your brother, sometimes it’s hard to see anything else.

When we get to the stadium, we go through security and are escorted to our box, and we’re just in time to watch the guys on the field warming up.

Family and friends crowd the room as time goes on, and the chatter in the stadium gets louder and louder. When Leo runs across the field, everyone screams, and I can’t help but smile.

There’s something about a crowded football stadium that just makes you feel at home. The fact that you’re here, in this place, with thousands of people who are just as passionate as you are about something is beautiful.

About an hour later, the game is set to begin.

And begin it does.

---