Page 33 of Every Move You Make

Rafael pushes past a couple of players and nudges her shoulder with a laugh. “You’ve been working on that one, haven’t you?”

“I’ve been saving it,” she admits. “Been waiting for the right moment to bring it out.”

“Birdie, this is my buddy IceMan,” Raf beams, throwing his arm around my shoulders.

I hold out my hand, and she shakes it. “Christian name is Isaiah.”

“Birdie. Robyn in the real world.”

Just then, my sister Angie stumbles over to us. “Penis, penis, penis,” she sings, then hiccups before continuing, “Penis, penis, penis, penis!” Her giggling makes them laugh, but I’m cringing.

“This is my social,” Raf says. “And here you are, drunker than me.”

“Can we go to Taco Bell?” she pleads, fisting his shirt.

Raf rolls his eyes. “Of course we can go to Taco Bell.”

“Woo!” Angie cheers, throwing her fists high in the air. “T-Bell run! Who’s sober—” she hiccups, “—enough to drive?”

Angie has already booked it to another group of people looking for a DD when Rafael pats me on the back. “No, no. Allow me to take care of your inebriated sister,” he chuckles.

“Hey, I’m just a visitor. She’s your responsibility at school.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Raf gives me a playful shove and leaves, trying to find his best friend.

“So, you’re Angie’s brother?” Robyn asks, and I nod. “And you go to Brightwood, obviously. How long have you been playing?”

“I’m a sophomore, and I’ve been with the team since freshman year. I played in high school with Raf, actually. How about you?”

“This is my first year playing. I started back in the fall. I’m a freshman.”

“Well, you fit right in with the rugby community,” I chuckle.

“Oh, you mean the community of fucking weirdos? Thanks,” she smiles and holds her beer up. “It’s a badge of honor.”

“We are a strange bunch, aren’t we?”

“I think you have to be in order to play this sport.”

This has me curious. “What makes you weird?”

“Oh, besides singing to a crowd of people about dicks?” I huff a laugh and nod. “Let’s see… When I eat extra spicy food, I like the way it hurts my gums, and I’ll stick toothpicks between my teeth for added pain.” Before I can ask afollow-up question, she keeps going. “I love the smell of my own body odor. In my hometown in Minnesota, I’m the reigning Mayonnaise Queen. I won that title in a Midwest Salad-eating competition.”

“Salad?”

“Yeah. You know, like a hearty salad tossed in a lot of mayo?”

“Oh my god,” I chuckle.

“I write Disney villain fanfiction. My two biggest fears include seaweed touching my feet and balloons. I think Owl City is the best band. I cry watching videos of hedgehogs, and I think I would perish if I got to hold one in real life. My favorite feeling in the world comes from scrunching up an empty bag of popcorn when it’s still steaming,” she says, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

There’s a long pause as this girl in front of me, I don’t know…pretends she’s holding a hot crumpled bag of popcorn?

“Okay,” I drawl. “You’re weird.”

She bows dramatically, waving her hand delicately before saying, “Thank you.”

Outside, we find a quiet place to chat and spend the rest of the social in our own little bubble. She’s easy to talk to, and she gets me. When I told her about my favorite bands, she knew who I was talking about. We talked about our favorite rugby songs and verses. We laughed about the shock on people’s faces when they hear rugby lingo for the first time, like ruck and hooker. About the professors who take us aside to gravely ask if everything is okay at home because we’re covered in bruises most of the year.

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