Blind Side(4)

I nodded, excusing myself without any verbal confirmation because I knew none was needed. And as soon as I ducked out of her office and closed the door behind me, I took a long, sweet breath that didn’t burn from the smoke my dragon of a boss loved to fill the room with.

In the next breath, determination sank in, and I set my stride toward the weight room.

All my life, I’d felt the desire to think differently, to act differently, to challenge myself and the world around me.

Growing up, I was left in the shadows, the unremarkable middle child in a stack of five annoyingly talented kids. I had two older sisters and two younger brothers, and as such, I slipped into the background of our family without much consequence.

I was the third girl, unremarkable in its own right, sentenced to wear hand-me-down clothes and never have the chance to form an identity of my own. Couple that with the fact that I had two brothers born not too long after me, the boys my parents had prayed for, and you could say I was as invisible as the dust collecting on the top of a ceiling fan. I only seemed to be noticed when I got in the way, when my presence became a nuisance or flared up someone’s allergies.

Still, I didn’t feel bitter growing up. The comparison game never really got to me. I thought it was spectacular that my oldest sister, Meghan, excelled at softball and went on to play in college, receiving a full-ride scholarship. I was in awe of my second oldest sister, Laura, getting into MIT. I knew without a doubt that she’d change the world with her passion for science engineering. And I had nothing but love for my younger brothers, Travis and Patrick, who were little inventors set to appear on Shark Tank once they got the right million-dollar idea hammered out.

If anything, I kind of loved existing in the forgotten space in-between. No one bothered me when I locked myself in my room for the weekend, reading and watching documentaries. With all my parents’ attention on my siblings, I was free to use my time exploring the world and what makes it tick, which was my favorite thing to do — aside from getting lost in a smutty, taboo romance novel.

It drove my mom insane that I didn’t have direction when I left for college. She also didn’t particularly like that I’d pulled away from the church when I was in high school, thanks to my self-education in religion and newfound questions that neither she nor our pastor could answer. Add in the fact that she found a gritty motorcycle club romance stuffed under my pillow and read a scene that made her clutch her pearls before declaring I was banned from reading anything like this ever again! And I guess you could say we weren’t exactly close.

But, to her credit, she didn’t spend much effort on trying to steer me toward a career path or toward the church, not before she’d sigh and give up and turn her focus back to one of her God-fearing children who had a good head on their shoulders.

What she couldn’t see, what no one could see, was that I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life yet because I didn’t know enough about life itself.

I’d never traveled outside of New England, never had a boyfriend, and never even gotten close to second base, let alone to going all the way.

There was still so much of life I wanted to soak up and study before I committed to my role in it, which was a big reason why I pushed myself out of my comfort zone when I came to college and picked the major that was least suited for me.

Public Relations.

Putting me — the quiet, nerdy virgin — in charge of public perception just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. But that’s why I loved it. That’s why it was important to me.

It was unexpected, and different, and challenging.

And I wouldn’t stop until I’d mastered every aspect of it.





Clay



I had a lot of expectations for my sophomore year at North Boston University.

After winning our bowl game last season and having a winning record on top of it, I expected us to be the team to contend with in The Big North conference. And after having one of the best seasons of my life, I expected to make said team easily, to start every game, and to demolish the records I’d set last year. I also expected us to win, to get not just a bowl game this season, but one of the bowl games — the ones that would serve as semi-finals and take us to the National Championship Game.

What I had not expected was for my girlfriend of five years to dump me.

Any time I thought of it, my chest caved in on itself. It felt impossible, how the girl I loved, the girl I thought I would marry, could walk away from me so easily. It was like being safe onboard a cruise ship one moment, basking in the tropical sun, only to be thrown overboard the next — nothing to hold onto, no one to hear my screams as the ship continued on its course and left me behind in the unrelenting waters.

What was worse was that it wasn’t just a breakup — not the way most of my friends knew them, anyway.

Maliyah Vail wasn’t just my girlfriend, she was family.

We grew up together. Our families were close, weaved together in every way like a thick blanket. Her dad and my dad were best friends in college, and even after my parents split, her mom made sure to keep an eye on mine, to make sure she was okay.

Which she wasn’t often.

What I once considered a fairytale childhood was demolished with just one decision — my father’s. Overnight, we went from a happy family of three to a broken family that consisted of me and Mom, and every now and then, Dad.