Page 138 of Rules of Association

After my and Clay’s arrival, the first thing we did was pick teams, and since it was Ceci’s day, she got first draw. All the names had (apparently) been stuck in a bowl. When Ceci drew hers out of the bowl, her eyes had flickered up to me as I sat in front of her fixing my shoelaces.

“Looks like I’ve got the big guy,” she said, and the look on her face had me immediately narrowing my eyes. What were the chances? But I didn't say a word, just happy she wanted me on her team to begin with. I was so ready to have her look at me like she used to, I might do anything. So however strange the Fernandez family outings were, I was here and I was ready.

Now we sat on a blanket in the park. Just in sight was a large sandbox with a big net and another right beside it. Volleyball.

I couldn’t give a damn about the game, however. Not when the radiant girl in front of me exited her shoes, stepped out onto the sand, stuck her face up to the sun and smiled. Then, with her golden eyes blazing directly at me, she kept that smile like she hadn’t just been ignoring me for a week and said, “Ready?”

I couldn’t resist her. Couldn’t deny her. Couldn’t fault her for anything. Nothing but the irrational, incomparable, exhilarating feeling she gave me every time she looked at me just like that.

I smiled, and it was a wonder I wasn’t leaking my feelings all across the park that day. It was amazing that I was able to simply follow close behind her and say, “Let’s do this.”

Because what I really wanted to say were three different little words.

* * *

Three Ball was a series of games played in quick succession of each other. The first ball was always volleyball, a sport the Fernandez girls all played in high school. The second was soccer, a sport the family loved andallplayed. And the third (if it came to a tiebreaker) was a good old-fashioned game of dodgeball.

Ask me how these people came up with this stuff, I had no idea. My family would be lucky if we played a game of cards without killing each other. Our bi-weekly dinners were a miracle in themselves. I couldn’t imagine us—especially Clint—orchestrating something like this. But since I was committed to being here for Ceci I was all in.

Volleyball was okay. Ceci was a high jumper, and she and all the girls (except Tine of course) had played the sport competitively, so it was a pretty good game between them.

Our team—myself, Ceci, Clay, and Melissa had concerned me until Ceci patted my arm and told me it would all make sense in the long run. When Melissa had silently nodded in agreement, I just trusted the family to do what they do.

Turns out they were right. When volleyball started and the game was pretty evenly matched, the trash talking had slipped out, both across the net and on the same side.

“Ferguson!” Ceci hissed, the venom directed at Clay. “You do know you’re hitting the ball that way, right?That way!”

All the while she said it, she pointed animatedly toward the net that stood in front of us. I snickered into my hand. So far, Clay had punted the ball back behind us and out of bounds maybe three times. He was not getting the hang of the volleyball thing and Ceci was not letting him catch a break about it.

Cracking his neck, he grumbled. “Shut it, half-pint. I’m just warming up.”

The two of them arguing was better than the alternative, though. Having switched positions with Ceci as the setter and Clay a hitter, they only found common ground enough to work together to continuously set Ox up to get hit. It was apparently very amusing to see their brother and in-law go from brushing off the first few hits to glaring at them red-faced and pissed with the next. So amusing, in fact, it was bonding the two idiots.

“You’re supposed to use your hands, not your face, Ox!” Ceci cackled, doubled over after Clay had spiked another ball at the poor guy.

Clay was laughing too, his hands on his knees as he wheezed. “That ugly mug is their best player at this point!”

Tiney begging them to stop had not deterred them, either. They made it their sole mission to mess with Ox the entire game, which is probably why we lost. That and I suspect the little pow wow of a team meeting Ox had rallied together once we were tied. The result had been Alta stepping up front and setting Ox up to pay back his assaults three times over. To Clay’s face.

They were the winning shots, and Ox had done nothing but cut his granite glare at the two culprits up front. One holding his face and the other cracking upagainat the pain she was inflicting around all of us.

Tyrant.

Soccer was another story. This was apparently what the two girls had been nodding to each other about before. Volleyball was such a crapshoot—it could have gone either way. But according to the girls, we had soccer in the bag.

It was some kind of mind game they played with Ox. He was the best player in the family and Alta was the worst.“God awful”were the words Melissa had snorted about her sister. Somehow, Ox always got paired with Alta and, being competitive like the rest of them, he was sick and tired of losing because of her. That explained his irritation as soon as the teams were chosen and Alta was stuck with him.

We played soccer in the grass, using pop up nets on opposite ends as our marks. Before the game started, Team Captain Ceci huddled the four of us up and delivered her game plan.

“Okay, strategy. Stay away from Ox at all times. Connor, you need to stay close to the net, you’re the goalie, but only when someone’s near the goal. We don’t have enough of us for you to just hang out there all game.”

Okay.

“Clay, you block Ox. Do not let him get anywhere near the ball. Not even close, understand?”

Clay just grunted, causing Ceci to train a glare on him, speaking exaggeratingly slow. “Understand?”

“I understand fucking English, Fernandez,” Clay hissed. “Stop looking at me like that,I understand.”

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