Page 7 of The Kid Sister

With the quarterfinalfor the state play-offs coming up, the intensity for training stepped up a notch. I was coming home from training tired, yet all I was doing was giving out water. Poor Sawyer looked exhausted, and every night Mom was making him soak in the hot tub to ease his muscles.

With the game scheduled for Saturday afternoon, Coach Mercer had added an extra forty five minutes to Thursday’s session, and everyone had looked shattered afterward. Even my ankle, which had returned to its normal size, started to ache from all the running I’d done. It made sense to join Sawyer in the hot tub.

“I didn’t think Coach was ever going to let us leave,” Sawyer said, his legs outstretched in the warm water, bubbling away like a witch’s cauldron.

“He did seem a little manic today,” I said, stopping to correct myself. “I mean, a littlemoremanic than usual.”

It was no secret that Coach Mercer was a tough man. Well, that’s how he portrayed himself, gruff on the exterior, firm and hard-nosed. That’s why the team respected him. He was strict, but fair. If you messed up you were punished, but he always motivated the kids to do better. And though he took no nonsense, everyone knew that deep down he could be soft. He just didn’t show that side much. He’d always been nice to me, constantly reminding me of what a great job I did. Millie, too, said he had been kind to her, one of her best moments being when she was given a team t-shirt.

Coach made us feel like we were one big family, one where everyone looked out for each other. Regardless of your position or role, every Charger worked together for the good of the team, toward the shared goal, the all-encompassing effort and will to succeed, not for yourself but for the person next to you in the locker room. That was the culture that Coach Mercer had nurtured—unity, trust and sacrifice for one another. Working together.

That’s why I loved the team so much.

“Well, of course he’s manic,” Sawyer said. “This is it. It all hinges on this game. Our season could potentially end right here.”

“Don’t say that,” I scolded. “No way are we losing to Clifton County. No way!” I kicked his foot to chastize him for his wicked words.

“Yeah, I know,” Sawyer splashed me back, his voice strained, “but...but what if we did, Si? Can you imagine?”

Sawyer’s remark hung between us thick with the unthinkable. It didn’t warrant an answer, the possibility of losing never mentioned. We’d come so far this season, the goal was in sight, touchable, two more wins and we’d be in the championship final and everyone’s dreams would come true.

“Sawyer, don’t even say that,” I hissed. “You’ve worked too hard for this.”

Sawyer loved football but it wasn’t his life, not the way it was for Tennessee, Cullen and Skyler. My brother’s other passion was cars, and he loved tinkering away on his twenty year old Mustang, with his ultimate goal to restore a 66 Fastback. He scoured websites searching for his dream car.

“I know,” he said with a weary sigh, “But Cully’s got this.”

“Hey, what? Is someone talking about me?”

Sawyer’s head turned simultaneously with mine. I was certainly shocked to see Cullen standing there, shirtless in his swimming shorts with a towel hanging round his neck, Sawyer not so much.

“Thought you said you couldn’t make it.” Sawyer’s grin widened as he splashed water in Cullen’s direction.

“I finished my bio assignment, so here I am,” Cullen said, dropping his towel and slipping off his slides. He bent down and tested the water, his voice softening to greet me. “Hi Sierra.”

“Hi,” I squeaked out, his toned pecs only inches away from me.

“So, what were you saying ‘bout me?” Cullen swung his legs into the tub, creating a small tsunami as the rest of his body followed. With water spraying in my face, I wiped my eyes and smoothed my hair back, lowering myself under the water, self conscious that I hadn’t shaved my underarms in a couple of days, that I was wearing my old ‘hot tub’ bikini, and that the strapless style of the top accentuated my flat chest.

“Just that you’re gonna bring it this Saturday,” Sawyer said.

“We’re gonna crush Clifton County,” Cullen said with a confidence that bordered on cocky. “First time making the quarterfinal in twelve years, so there’s no way we’re blowing this opportunity. You don’t put yourself through 5 o’clock starts to fall this close to the line.”

“You mean 6 o’clock,” Sawyer said, “And yeah, can’t wait for the day when I don’t need to use an alarm.”

“Yeah, I mean six,” Cullen mumbled, running a wet hand through his hair, pushing his blond locks off of his forehead. Quite apart from the fact that I’d only just learned that his eyes were a blaze of blue and gray, I was now discovering that his profile was close to perfection, a strong jawline, angled cheekbones, a straight nose and lips lacking in neither symmetry nor volume.

I crossed my arms over my chest, shrinking beneath the water, confounded as to why I was seeing Cullen inthatway. Sure, I’d known he was attractive and popular, and though he dated, he’d never had a steady girlfriend. He’d taken Siri to the Homecoming Dance but he wasn’t dating her. Over summer, he’d been at the Country Club pool with Phoebe a couple of times, but Sawyer and Amanda had also been there. The boys always hung out with the cheerleaders.

“How’s your foot, Sierra?”

To hear Cullen say my name twice in a matter of minutes resonated somewhere deep in my belly, a flutter of butterflies sending me into a spin.

“My foot’s fine,” I said, “It’s Sawyer’s legs that are hurting.”

“Man, did your Dad have to make us do those Terrible 20s? Like, that killed me.”

“Me, too,” Cullen said, sinking lower under the water.

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