Ty stared at the card. Voices muttered and hissed, but he didn't hear their words; he'd almost forgotten they were there. Lost in the letters, he reread the card over and over. It wasn't signed, but that wasn't important.
Not even the idea of the National tournament bracket held him that tightly in its grip. Seeing which teams he'd eventually face on his road to the championship would be nice, but it wasn't captivating because in the end it didn't matter who Ty faced, he'd beat them all.
What held him was the announcement of the All-American team. There'd be a defensive side naming the eleven best defenders in the country. Ty knew he'd be on that list, and finally, everyone would learn his name and acknowledge him as the best Cornerback in the nation.
He handed the card over to Meg, though it was quickly snatched from her grasp by Mother.
'Hurry up, woman,' Father said. 'The hell is in that thing? Does it say why this brat's got a damn plane ticket to Vegas?' He turned back to Ty. 'Did you use our money to pay for this shit?'
'You think I'd gift myself a plane ticket and all that other shit?' Ty said.
'Don't you talk to me like that, boy. I oughta smack that sass right outta yo mouth.'
'A GALA?!' Mother shrieked. 'Where the hell's my invite? Tyrese, the hell is all this? You gonna explain yourself?'
'Did you set this up?' Vicky asked, looking at Precious expectantly.
'Me?' Precious laughed. 'Girl, how do you think I did ANY of this?'
'I've told you!' Ty yelled, trying to be heard over the growing noise. 'How many times do I have to tell you?'
'Now don't you raise your voice at—'
'You ain't told us shit, b—'
'SHUT UP!' Ty screamed. Silence followed.
He panted harder than he had on his run, looking around the room. Devon wasn't there anymore. Ty didn't know when he'd used the distraction to sneak away. But even the twins, who had gone back to playing, were now staring at him.
Mother looked like she was a second away from slapping him; Father, from getting his belt. When had any of the kids ever spoken to them like that? Megan bit her lip, face full of concern, whereas Vicky's couldn't have held any more disdain, like she was waiting for him to get the ass-whooping he deserved after that outburst. Precious was distant, her eyes not really seeing him or any of them.
'I've told you a thousand times,' Ty said. 'I was beginning football. We were winning, undefeated. We lost and lost again. We made Regionals, and we kept winning. Regional finals. We were champions, then State was starting. I fucked up, but we won. We made the State championship game, playing against the team that had been winning these tournaments for as long as I've been alive. And I told you when we—I—won that too.'
He took a breath, his whole body shaking. He thrust a finger at the mantelpiece, barely seen through the doorway leading to the living room. 'My trophies are right there, right in front of your faces! And you've never said ANYTHING. You've never come to any of my games, and now, when I'm going to the National championship, when that fucking letter tells you what's happening and why. When it tells you I'm one of the best players in the country, you still don't get it. You still can't hear it, you still don't care. You still—'
Mother's hand was like a whip against his face. It snapped his head to the side. He staggered back a step. Honestly, he was surprised it hadn't come sooner.
'How DARE you talk to me like that, like you know ANYTHING we go through. Who do you think pays for your equipment? Who drove you to all those games when you were a kid?'
'You know how many games I missed sitting at your shitty PeeWee football matches?' Dad grumbled; the two pressed closer.
'And you want to bitch and whine about how little WE care?' Mother's voice shifted higher in pitch with every word. Dogs were probably going crazy all up and down the street. 'I'm SORRY if we have lives outside of you, Tyrese. But you got brothers and sisters, and the entire world can't revolve around YOU, you ungrateful little sh—'
'I'm pregnant!'
Precious's confession sideswiped them like a semi-trailer. Father's forehead wrinkled; you could see him working out the depth of what was just said in real time. Mother's—much like her other two daughters'—jaw hung open as she turned to gawk at Precious. An uneasy smile held on Precious's face, her eyes tearing up.
It was Jason who broke the silence by asking: 'Are we gonna have more sisters?'
'What the fuck did I just hear?' Father said, his glare fixed on Precious.
'I'm gonna be a nana?' Mother asked. 'I can't… I'm too young! How's that… ohmygod!'
'Who the fuck is the father?!'
And just like that, Ty was forgotten. All the attention was fixed solely on Precious and her surprise pregnancy. It was a Christmas miracle according to Mother, who slipped between shock, outrage, joy, and excitement at the prospect of a new baby in the family.
Vicky was ecstatic about being an aunty, and begged for it to be a baby girl. She didn't even leave time for air between her questions. She bombarded Precious regarding how far along she was, if she already knew the gender, what she was gonna name it, and who the dad was.
That was Father's focus as well—the dad. Anger was his reaction, of course. Who the hell had she been sleeping with? She better not have brought no diseases into his house. Why the hell was she wasting their money by partying and acting like a hoe instead of studying? You know, the reason THEY paid for her to go to college.
Megan was still absorbing her initial shock, and distracted herself by explaining the situation to the twins and answering their questions. Yes, Precious was gonna be a mommy. No, they weren't getting another sister or brother; they would become uncles to a beautiful little niece or nephew.
Precious did her best to answer and deflect the questions directed at her, her face a mix of embarrassment, excitement, and tears.
It was like Ty no longer existed. He snatched his plane ticket and the card before slinking out of the room. Megan looked over as he vanished down the hall and into his room, but nobody said anything.
Nobody ever cared. He slumped onto his bed, running his hands through his hair, scratching his scalp. No matter what he did, he was the forgotten child. Exactly what he deserved for daring to be born in the middle. He laughed, just so he wouldn't throw up.
His phone dinged once, then twice. Ty sunk further into his bed and reached over. One notification was an email from Coach Long, subject title: Team Update. Ty could guess what it was about, though it was funny the subject was still the same as every other email Coach Long sent out.
The second notification was a message from JJ reading: "Did anybody else get a weird letter?"
Only after reading it did Ty notice it was sent to the Dons' player group chat. Responses came flooding in.
J: "?"
Big Steph: "ur moms letter wasnt that weird"
Cam: "My grandma always gives me a letter like that, you get used to it."
Zay: "The one with the plane ticket."
Big D: "Nah the one with a hunnid bands in it Freshy"
Donte: "Everyones was delivered by a creepy old guy right?"
J: "idk"
Chris: "Santa usually delivers on Christmas, yeah"
Julian: "Okay, so it's not a prank."
Cole-Train: "I always forget Julian is JJ. Change your name, dude."
Donte: "It still could be a prank. I bet Stephen would do that."
Julian: 'It's too confusing when Jay has his set to a single letter."
Big Steph: 'Duck u Donte"
Cole-Train: "Fix your name, Jay."
With Jay's shrug emoji being the last message, and the floating three dots signalling multiple other people were typing, Ty closed out of the chat and went to Coach Long's email.
The only new information it gave was that they were to meet at the school on the day of the flight and a bus would shuttle them to the airport. Otherwise he was just explaining the situation, advising everyone to stay calm and that it was real. If they hadn't opened their boxes yet they should, and to read through the message carefully. He also stated that he'd heard the organiser of the National tournament was eccentric and rich, but hadn't expected such a level of eccentricity, though he didn't say who that organiser was.
Ty set his phone down, staring up at the ceiling. It was real. His family might not care, but it was really happening. And they wouldn't be going to the event. A day—maybe a weekend—away from them all. He sighed. He doubted he'd be lucky enough for the tournament to happen immediately after and they'd all stay in Vegas for a month getting through every game, but a boy could dream.
Ty was about to message Coach Hoang to see if he would be up for a training session tomorrow, when there was a knock at the door. Meg stood in the open doorway, as pensive and awkward as ever.
'May I come in?' she asked.
'You can do what you want,' Ty answered, sitting up and swinging his legs around to face her.
She stepped in, moving over to sit on the edge of one of the twins' beds. 'There's a lot happening today, huh?' Her voice was quiet, barely louder than the indistinguishable noise coming in from the other parts of the house. When the volume spiked, it was clear Precious was still being interrogated.
'That's Christmas,' Ty stated. Even the simplest Christmas was always the most chaotic day of the year.
Silence—excluding the outside voices—hung between them.
'Are you okay, Ty?'
More almost silence.
'What do you want?'
'To make sure you're okay. …And… are you really going to Vegas for um, a party celebrating your win?'
'I don't think its that.'
He thrust the letter her way and as she read through it, he examined the plane ticket more closely. They'd leave on the thirty-first, early enough that he'd probably have to leave for the school at six, then their return flight was the next evening. So maybe not a weekend getaway, but just about two days.
'That sounds exciting,' Meg said after finishing the letter. 'It sucks you can't bring a plus one … I'm sure you'll make that All-American team.'
'Of course,' Ty said. He would make the team, though he didn't see how it was a problem he couldn't bring anyone along, that was another benefit. 'They'll probably announce who the best player overall is, too.'
'Yeah, and of course, that'll be you, because you're the best, Ty.'
He smiled. It almost would be a celebration of all his achievements so far, and an event where all his enemies can line up and make their challenges known.
'I bet with the reporters going too, they'll be asking you lots of questions about how you're so good.'
They'd probably ask if he'd already picked out what college he wanted to play for in the future. As long as the focus remained on him and they didn't ask who he wanted to face next.
'Is everyone going? Or is it just the best player or captains from each team?'
'Everyone.'
'…All the coaches?' Her voice was quiet again, excitement fading.
'Hmm. I haven't heard.' He'd have to ask Coach Hoang about that.
'…Is … SHE … going?'
'Huh?' Ty blinked, looking at Meg. Her lip quivered. She wasn't looking at him.
'Never mind.' She stood hurriedly, wiping her eyes with the back of her arm. 'I'm sure it'll be really fun,' she said before leaving.
Ty frowned. She probably just wanted to get back to the actually interesting surprise. The gala would be … fun … though satisfying felt like a more fitting word. To finally be recognised, and on a national level? Satisfying indeed.
His phone pinged again—it was a message from Coach Hoang: "Are you free tomorrow?"
Ty grinned. The grind wouldn't stop. Not for Christmas, not for a gala either. Not until his hands were around that National championship.