[Pritchett House]
December 1st, 2009 – 6:46 PM
There were less than fifteen minutes left before the semifinal of the CIF Division 4 regional championship kicked off. Palisades would be facing Moose Ridge, an elitist, over-the-top school full of students with perfect hair, teeth whiter than the morals of their coaches, and a school band that sounded like they rehearsed at Carnegie Hall.
Jay, wearing a simple jacket and a face red with impatience, checked the clock for what felt like the hundredth ti. He had started to sweat, and not because of the heat, but thanks to the toxic mix of anxiety, grandfatherly pride, and the competitive instinct that had followed him since his days in the Navy.
He paced the living room with short, exasperated steps, throwing restrained glares toward the kitchen.
"Gloria! We’re going to miss the kickoff!" Jay shouted, raising his arms as if the ceiling might offer answers.
From the kitchen ca a buzzing sound followed by the thud of a pan. "DON’T YELL AT , JAY! I’m making semifinal arepas! These aren’t regular arepas! They’re arepas of motivation, of spiritual protection! They’re lucky arepas!"
"The only luck we need is to get there before the first quarter ends!" Jay fired back, on the verge of collapse.
"A good arepa is worth more than ten motivational speeches!" Gloria shouted back.
Since rushing Gloria had clearly failed, Jay redirected his frustration toward the second cause of delay.
"Manny, get down here NOW!" Jay roared from the stairs. "We’re leaving!"
"One second! I’m almost done! This poem could keep Andrew from having an emotional breakdown in the middle of the second quarter!" Manny replied.
Upstairs, Manny was rummaging through his desk, bed, and bookshelf like a bard on the eve of battle. He wore a pristine shirt, a wool vest, and a completely unnecessary pocket square. He was searching for a poem he had written a few days ago.
Jay blinked at the response. Had he heard that right? A poem?
"What the hell are you talking about now?!" he growled. "It’s a football ga! Not a Greek poetry reading!"
"Exactly, Jay! Andrew’s going through a sports existential crisis! Didn’t you see him this week? He was training like his soul was orbiting Saturn!"
Jay snorted, unable to fully argue back, because it was true.
That week, Andrew had been... off. Not bad, but distant. Quiet. Like sothing else was weighing on his mind.
[Jay and Gloria’s Comnt]
"Our boy is dimd this week. I saw it in his face. That’s why I’m making the arepas for this ga, even if they’re usually for finals. This is a final. A final of the soul," said Gloria, leaning forward.
Jay, next to her, tried to act indifferent. Arms crossed, he looked away.
"He’s a bit out of it, yeah. But that’s not unusual. He’s a teenager. They space out. He’ll get over it. What matters is that he throws the passes and wins the ga."
Gloria frowned at him, clearly offended.
"Oh please, Jay! You’re his grandfather. The old-school mont is over. You can’t just be the guy in the stands with his arms crossed. Andrew needs gestures. Look: I give him arepas, Manny gives him the poem. You... should give him sothing too. It’s your duty as a grandfather."
Jay blinked, uncomfortable, like he’d just been asked to sing opera in his underwear.
"What am I supposed to give him? A bouquet of flowers?" he scoffed.
Gloria rolled her eyes hard, "No! Of course not. What are they, two little girls? Sothing that motivates him. That makes him feel supported by his grandfather."
She paused for a second, then snapped her fingers, "I got it!"
Jay looked at her with growing suspicion. "What...?"
"A hug!" Gloria said with enthusiasm.
Jay frowned at the suggestion, "A hug?" he repeated. "That’s going to motivate him to win the ga?"
Gloria shot him a fierce look, "Yes, Jay! Because it’s not just any hug. He’s your grandson. And he’s a bit down, I can see it in his eyes. He’s carrying sothing inside and not telling us. A hug might be key."
Jay sighed, crossing his arms again, but the resistance in his voice had softened, "I’m not good at that kind of stuff..."
"You don’t have to be good at it! You just have to do it. He needs you. You see him as a strong little man, because he is, but he’s also a 15-year-old boy. And sotis, even the strongest... need a hug."
Jay looked down at the floor, thinking about it seriously.
"Oh, co on! You kissed Mitchell! This is way easier," said Gloria impatiently.
"Fine... I’ll give him a hug," Jay murmured.
"Great! I’ll give him a hug too! Arepas, poem, and hug. Now we’re definitely going to win."
[End of Comnt]
[Dunphy House]
6:47 PM
Just like the Pritchetts, the Dunphys were also running late.
"Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!" Claire shouted from the kitchen, keys in hand and her patience hanging by a dental floss thread. "The ga starts in less than fifteen minutes! Hurry up!"
Phil, who was in the living room holding a flag he had made himself, with Andrew’s face edited onto a lion’s body, seed completely unaware of the concept of urgency.
"Isn’t it epic, honey? The Lion of Palisades! Look at it! It would actually roar if I had a sound button," he said, pressing a random spot and letting out a homade "RAWWWR" with childlike enthusiasm.
Claire glared at him, "Phil, seriously? Do you really think Andrew wants to see his face fused with a feline in the middle of a semifinal?"
"Of course! Kids love animals! I loved He-Man and he had a giant tiger. This is pretty much the sa. Just... more realistic," Phil answered with a smile.
"Dad," Alex chid in, coming down the stairs with a resigned expression, "Do you rember the na of the team? Palisades Eagles. Not Palisades Lions."
Phil blinked, as if reality had just hit him.
"Right! But... well, the lion is stronger. It symbolizes power, warrior spirit. Andrew needs that right now. He’s going through sothing. I saw it this week. I think we all did."
Claire softened a little. She crossed her arms and sighed.
"Yeah... he’s off. Quieter than usual, and that’s saying a lot for Andrew," she said, exchanging a concerned glance with Phil.
Phil nodded, genuinely serious for a mont.
"That’s why the lion. An eagle soars. But a lion roars. And today, Andrew needs to roar louder than ever."
[Phil and Claire’s Comnt]
"Andrew’s been different. And as a family, it’s our job to spark him back to life. That’s why I wrote a motivational speech! He must destroy those rich kids! Leave them in the mud, stomp on them, beat them for the second ti and prove they’re losers who’ll never win as long as he’s quarterback of Palisades!"
"Wow... that’s... intense," said Phil, a bit surprised.
"It’s perfect to boost his morale!" Claire said, nodding proudly.
"Yeah, yeah, perfect. But rember they’re teenagers, and maybe... don’t say that out loud near the other parents..." added Phil.
[End of Comnt]
Back in the living room, Luke ca down the stairs like he was entering a halfti show: he wore one of Andrew’s oversized jerseys that reached his knees, a red headband on his forehead, and two silver pom-poms.
"I’m ready! RAWWWR!" Luke roared, puffing out his chest.
Phil looked at him, beaming, and turned to Claire, "See!? Soone likes the lion flag!"
"No, I just like roaring," Luke replied with a shrug, "And the pom-poms are for the pretty cheerleaders. Regina always hugs !"
Claire narrowed her eyes, slowly processing the statent, "Regina...? Andrew’s friend?"
Luke nodded proudly, like it was a major achievent.
"You’ve been spending too much ti with Howard..." Claire muttered.
Then she frowned and looked down at Luke’s jersey, which hung on him like a robe.
"Luke...? You’re wearing pants under that shirt, right?"
"I don’t know," he replied with genuine confusion, lifting the jersey slightly to check. "Oh..."
"Are you wearing just underwear?!" Claire exclaid, now clearly on the edge of a maternal ltdown.
"But they’re the lucky ones," Luke tried to justify.
Claire massaged her temples, as if trying to stop her soul from leaving her body.
"Upstairs. Right now! And put on pants, Luke Dunphy! I’m coming with you to make sure you don’t take thirty minutes and end up forgetting!"
Luke bolted up the stairs like a flock of eagles was chasing him, and Claire followed like a coach herding wild dogs.
At that exact mont, Haley was coming down the stairs, phone in hand, distracted and moving with the leisurely pace of soone who believes the world will wait for her. She froze as Luke sped past her with Claire close behind, exasperated.
"Seriously?!" she protested. "We’re going to be late because of mini Tarzan and his pom-pom show?"
Halfway up the stairs, Claire turned sharply and shot her a dagger-like glare.
"You spent over half an hour locked in the bathroom, Haley! Over half an hour! You’re going to wait by the door right now, and you’re not moving from there! Not one step past the doormat!"
"Ugh, whatever," Haley groaned as she continued down the stairs.
She leaned against the wall near the front door and resud frantically typing on her phone.
Alex, already there, reading a small book, looked up and comnted in a calm, almost clinical tone:
"Andrew’s been acting strange these past few days... and that’s coming from soone who lives like he’s got a protein-per-minute calendar. Sothing’s really off."
Haley paused for a second, but didn’t look at her.
"Mhm," she muttered, and kept typing.
Alex narrowed her eyes, annoyed by the lack of reaction, "Aren’t you going to do anything to cheer him up?"
"I’m going to the ga, aren’t I?" Haley replied with a shrug.
Alex closed her book slowly, "I share a room with you. I know you stayed up late last night. And it wasn’t to talk to your popular idiot friends..." she said sharply, nodding toward the pocket of Haley’s jacket.
Haley looked at her with slight annoyance, then sighed, resigned. She pulled out a small woven fabric bracelet in Palisades team colors, with so stitched letters: "QB #12."
"Okay, fine. I’ll give it to him before the ga. If we’re not late, of course..." she added, glancing at the stairs with frustration.
"Maybe it’ll clear up that gray cloud hanging over him. I don’t think it’ll do much, but at least it’s better than the flag with his face fused to a lion," she said with a grimace, turning toward the living room, "Or Mom’s speech that sounds more like a war threat."
Alex raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, "Wow... almost an altruistic act. A handmade gift. Are you okay? Did you check your temperature?"
"Shut up," Haley muttered grumpily.
"And what about you, huh? You going to cheer him up or just stand there with your passive-aggressive sarcasm face?"
Alex tilted her head, uncomfortable, "I’m going to the ga. That’s already a lot... considering I haven’t missed one and it cuts into my study ti."
Haley was about to throw out the classic "pathetic nerd," but stopped herself.
Andrew had told her once to stop treating Alex like she was lesser just because she didn’t have "cool friends" or go to parties. That, in fact, what Alex did took more strength than hers or being an athlete like him.
So she bit her tongue, but not the urge to point out the hypocrisy.
"Andrew always helps you," she said in a lower, firr voice.
"Like that ti he defended you at Grandpa’s during the Colombian dinner... or when Mom and Dad forgot your science presentation and you didn’t say anything to avoid drama. He talked to them."
Alex swallowed hard. She could no longer hide behind sarcasm.
"And now that you know sothing’s off with him, you’re going to do... nothing?" Haley asked, raising a brow.
"Very thoughtful of you, sister. Everyone’s giving him sothing: Mom her war speech, Dad his ridiculous flag... and I saw Luke rehearsing so improvised choreography with that lion costu of his..."
Alex sighed, looking away, "I should think of sothing... but there’s no ti left."
Haley looked at her for a mont, then quickly held out the bracelet, "Here. Give it to him if you want. Maybe it’ll lift his mood more coming from you, since it’s so rare for you to do that kind of thing."
Alex stared at her, surprised, "What...? If you give this, what are you going to give him?"
Haley shrugged, "Doesn’t matter. I can give him a hug or sothing. I’m not that socially inept that I need accessories to show affection."
Alex blinked. Her sister had just done sothing generous... without sarcasm.
"Thanks," Alex murmured, more moved than she wanted to show.
Haley crossed her arms, clearly uncomfortable, like the air had gotten too warm.
Alex looked at the bracelet for a mont, then said, as if the idea ford out loud, "What if we give it to him together?"
Haley raised an eyebrow, "Like a symbolic offering between sisters united by family duty?"
"Exactly."
"Sounds cheesy. But I like it."
Just then, Claire ca down the stairs, holding the car keys and with the look of a commander ready for battle. Luke followed behind her, now wearing pants under Andrew’s jersey and carrying a backpack full of snacks no nutritionist would approve of.
"Alright, people, everyone outside! NOW!" Claire shouted without looking back, "If anyone forgot sothing, too bad, because I’m not waiting a second longer."
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