Page 78 of Love on the Waiver Wire

I look around, trying to find Owen before spotting him in the corner. He doesn’t look happy, and when he sees my face, his own drops even more.

I can see the apology in his eyes.

My lips thin as my eyes sting, watching person after person filter in to take photos with the team.

I know what Leo was doing. I know that he was trying to do the right thing. To show support.

But this is exactly what he’s been trying to protect me from. It’s the same exact thing.

Me coming to his games is not the same thing as him coming to mine. I wish I could appreciate it, I do. But this? It’s one of the worst feelings.

Mila, Amara, and Heidi all find me, questions in their eyes. I know that they’d kick them all out if I asked, but then who would be in a newspaper as the local artist who kicked the football team out of her showing?

Maybe people wouldn’t care. But maybe they would.

Instead, I grab a glass of wine, bringing it to my lips as I head to the back.

I know my friends will keep an eye on the rest.

* * *

My brother tries to talk to me on Saturday. And Sunday, asking if I’ll be at the game with mom and dad.

I won’t be.

Owen has texted me too, but I let him know that I just needed some time alone.

I’m not upset with him. My brother told me it was his idea and he forced everyone to come. He thought it wouldn’t be a big deal.

But of course it was.

The Cobras were gathered in a small gallery where anyone could step in and meet them.

“Isla please talk to me,” Leo says outside my door.

I don’t answer.

And I feel like a giant asshole.

He was just trying to help. He’s doing his best. From the outside, it’s one of the sweetest moves. Any sister should love a brother like him.

But from here, in my shroud of solitude and overthinking, I’m mad.

I’m mad because he wants to dictate my life to protect me, and yet he doesn’t think through his own actions sometimes.

I’m mad because he thinks that telling me not to talk to his friends is the only way to make sure I don’t live under his shadow.

I’m mad because he cares so damn much yet doesn’t use that big brain of his to think past what he thinks may be good for me in that moment, to hell with the big picture. To hell with every single thing he’s preached at me for the last few years.

And there’s something so damn lonely in that.

29

OWEN

Isla hasn’t talked to either of us in days. Leo hasn’t shut up about it, and it’s bothered him enough that he’s been screwing up at practice with one of our bigger games coming up this week.

He’ll admit he’s wrong, but he still won’t admit that he’s done exactly what he didn’t want for her. Exactly what he was concerned about me doing.

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