Page 87 of Fault Line

My roommates and I are keeping our spirits up as the holiday season approaches. Will’s going home for Thanksgiving, but Rai, Bodie, and I have decided to stay on campus. We’re making the most of it by hosting our own Friendsgiving at the house.

We’ve invited a few of our other teammates who couldn’t make it back home, and I’ve extended an invitation to Kaia. I know she won’t be seeing her family this year, so I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for her to take a break from her work and join us.

But, as expected, she declined the invitation, explaining that she plans to use the two days off school to finish her assignments and focus in on her applications. I’m disappointed, but I understand her need to prioritize her work.

By the time Thursday rolls around, the house is bustling with activity. With Will already gone, Rai, Bodie, and I divide up the cooking duties and get to work. Rai Rai’s in charge of the turkey, Bodie takes on the sides, and I’m tasked with making the desserts.

The kitchen is a whirlwind of chopping, mixing, and laughter as we each work on our respective dishes.

As the hours pass, our feast officially comes together. The mouthwatering smell of turkey roasting in the oven fills the air while various pots and pans bubble away on the stovetop. I’m busy whipping up a pumpkin pie—Mom’s old recipe—and a batch of chocolate chip cookies, the sweet scents mingling with the savory ones.

Finally, our teammates arrive, each one bringing a dish or a case of beer to contribute. I keep glancing at my phone, half expecting Kaia to change her mind and text me that she’s on her way. But my phone remains silent, and I do my best to shake off my disappointment and focus on the friends who’ve already shown up.

As the day wears on, we all gather around our makeshift dining table, which is really just a couple of beer pong centerfolds pushed together and covered with a festive tablecloth. We all raise a toast to friendship and good food before diving into the meal.

As we sit around the table, enjoying the fruits of our labor, Rai launches into some goofy story about a family vacation.

“Okay, so you guys won’t believe what happened on our trip to Disney a couple of years ago,” he begins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. I already know where this story is going, and it’s not exactly mealtime appropriate, but I’m content to let the man do his thing.

“My parents, my little sister Maya, and I were all super excited. But on our very first day there, my dad insists that we have to try every single ride, no matter how long the lines are. He’s determined to get his money’s worth, you know? And of course, my little sister’s all on board with that idea. She’s a total adrenaline junkie, even at ten years old.”

Rai pauses for dramatic effect before carrying on. “Now, my mom gets motion sickness pretty easily, so she’s a bit reluctant. But my dad and Maya somehow manage to convince her. And that’s when things start to go downhill.”

We chuckle, anticipating what’s coming next.

“First, we get stuck on It’s a Small World for nearly an hour,” he says, shaking his head. “You know that song? It just keeps playing over and over and over. By the time we finally get off the ride, we’re all ready to lose our minds.”

He goes on, mimicking the repetitive tune, and the guys burst into laughter.

“But that’s not even the worst part,” he continues, grinning. “Later that day, we decide to tackle Space Mountain, and my mom’s already looking a bit green around the gills. We try to convince her to sit this one out, but she insists on going with us. Big mistake.”

The rest of the guys lean in closer, captivated by his story. I know what’s coming next, and I’m tempted to tell him to save it for after dinner, but I don’t want to interrupt his flow.

“We’re all strapped into our seats, hurtling through space at breakneck speeds, and then it happens. My mom starts throwing up—and I mean, like, projectile vomiting—right in the middle of the ride.”

The guys erupt into laughter as Rai gesticulates wildly, illustrating the chaos of the situation. “My poor dad ends up with puke all over his Mickey Mouse ears, and Maya’s screaming her head off. And me? I’m just trying not to add to the mess by laughing too hard.”

As Rai finishes his story, everyone’s in stitches, but I’m still disturbed by him bringing up puke in the midst of our meal. Bodie reaches over to swat Rai in the back of the head. And as Rai sputters forward, choking on his turkey leg, I officially join in on the laughter.

It feels really good to let loose like this—carefree, warm, and content with all my friends—but I can’t help but wish that Kaia was here to join in on the fun.

I know she has her reasons for staying home, but I’m still worried about the ever-growing distance between us. And as I help Rai and Bodie clean up the remnants of our feast, I make another silent promise to myself: I’ll find a way to bridge this gap, this rift that keeps widening, no matter what.

* * *

I rollout of bed the next morning, still full and content from the day before. But now it’s game day, and there’s a familiar mix of nerves and excitement welling up inside me. Unfortunately, there’s something else brewing beneath the surface, too.

My dad’s flying in for tonight’s game, and it’s difficult not to feel a bit on edge.

Our relationship has always been complicated, to put it mildly. And I’m sick of my stomach dropping whenever his name lights up my phone. We haven’t even so much as spoken since his last visit, and now he’s dropped a voicemail overnight, informing me that he’ll be showing up in a few hours. A little post-Thanksgiving treat for me, I guess.

It’s in moments like these that I wish Kaia were here to help ease the tension.

Other than our few classes together, we still haven’t connected this week. I know she’s been swamped with her own work. But tonight’s game’s important to me, and I want her there.

I want to see her in the stands, wearing my jersey, cheering me on like the other girlfriends do for my teammates.

It’s not only about her being present—it’s about having her as a part of my life, a part of this world that I’m so passionate about. I know that she appreciates and supports me, but having her physically there, sharing in the excitement and the tension of the game, would mean more than I can put into words.

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