Page 11

Chapter eleven

Keala

Josie

It’s gameday! I did the locker room affirmations for the Vixens today and thought I’d send them to you because I love you 3.

I am always doing the best I can, and that is enough. I am unstoppable and I am proud to be me.

Keala

You always know how to brighten my day. Love you and have a great game day!

S etting her head on her steering wheel, Keala stifled a sigh. She was running later than she would have liked. Their call time for the first real game of the season was in an hour, and most of the girls got there far before that. Traffic was practically at a standstill, and her mother, whom she’d called to ask about a pair of heels she’d left at their house, had completely taken over the conversation.

“It’s so nice he’s in Los Angeles. We’re so close to our babies.” Her mother’s voice grew excited, pitching up. “He’s applying to medical schools now, you know?” Keala didn’t need to have been paying attention to know she was talking about Akoni.

“It is nice that he’s close,” Keala murmured, trying to keep the conversation away from medical school. Someone honked, and she whipped her head up, pressing on the gas as she waved an apology to the car behind her. She hated lying to her parents, and that was only getting more uncomfortable now that she saw them once or twice a week. Medical school and doctors were all her mother wanted to discuss—her subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, way of pushing Keala to go back to school and become a doctor.

“Dad and I think he’ll be a shoo-in for Texas, but we’re hoping he goes to Geffen or UCSF. Wouldn’t it be amazing if he were that close? We could have family dinners every week like we used to.”

A long time ago, before Nohea had begun acting strangely and coming home disheveled every few days, before her parents had sent Akoni and her to their rooms while they yelled at Nohea, family dinner had been an important part of their lives. It held some of her strongest memories of her older brother and the family dynamic before everything had changed. Thankfully, a few months after Nohea had gotten kicked out, Ikaika had moved in and joined those dinners. Keala had always glanced at that empty seat at the table though, wondering if she’d ever see her brother again. If she would suffer his same fate if she, too, upset her parents.

“Yeah, it would be great,” Keala answered quietly. She loved her younger brother, but every moment she spent in his presence was a reminder of all that she wouldn’t be able to achieve in comparison. When they were together for the holidays, she had to push that feeling deep down. Akoni was a great brother, always making sure he got her something for Christmas and her birthday. Always wishing her well when big things happened in her life or texting when he saw something that made him think of her, and she tried to do the same for him.

But it was a struggle not to blame him for her own shortcomings.

Traffic began to thin, and Keala sped up. She hoped her mother’s silence meant she was thinking about something, anything , else. But she had never been that lucky.

Hesitantly, her mother asked, “Sweetie, you know Dad and I will help pay for your medical school, right? Is that why you decided to get your master’s instead of going to med school? We don’t mind. We want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

“Of course. But don’t you think you’d be happier if you were making half a million a year? You’re smart enough to be a surgeon.”

Would she think that if she knew Keala hadn’t gotten into medical school? She doubted it. Anyway, it was unlikely she’d make that much as a surgeon. Even if she did, malpractice insurance would take up a big chunk of her money.

“I don’t know what I would do with that kind of money,” she answered, recognizing she couldn’t placate her mother completely but not wanting to get into a discussion about the financials of being a doctor. Things were very different from when her father had gone to medical school.

“You would live in a beautiful house and would want for nothing. Everybody would know you’re successful.”

Ouch. Keala sighed. The only thing she wanted was to dance, choreograph, and be paid enough to live off it. But if her parents didn’t consider being an NP successful, she couldn’t fathom how her life as a dancer would be viewed.

Her mother wasn’t trying to be mean, but this was what she had always believed. With a doctor for a father, all the Lōkahi-Prices had grown up knowing they would follow in his footsteps. It hurt to know that, after all the work she had put into getting where she was, society and her parents didn’t recognize her achievements.

Noticing her exit approaching, she said, “Mom, I’m running late and need to go. Please let me know if you find the shoes. And you’re coming to the game, right?”

“Oh! The shoes. Completely forgot. I’ll look tonight. And yes, of course we are! We have to cheer you and Ikaika on.”

And that was the difficult part. Her parents were so supportive of her dancing, so proud of her in general, that she knew they wanted the best for her. She didn’t have it in her to tell them that medical school was not what was best for her.

“Great. I’ll see you both after. Love you.”

“Love you, sweetie.”

Keala let out a deep breath as she switched lanes, trying to put the conversation out of her mind. It wasn’t a new one, but it was a reminder that Akoni was knocking on the door of success, and soon, Keala would be the one left behind.

The Sentinels’ first game of the season was at home on a beautiful, sunny, mid-September day, and they had decided to make it a throwback game. All the players wore retro uniforms and all the Sirens wore varying outfits from the past too.

Keala touched up her makeup, preparing for the pregame dance. She had already handled social media for gameday, filming a few videos before and after practice. That was one thing she could cross off her mental to-do list. Her group had just gotten back from taking photos with fans, so she only had a couple of minutes until it was time to go out and warm up the crowd.

It had been entirely by chance that Keala had been given the exact uniform she’d been hoping for: a black, long-sleeve dress with cutouts at the shoulders, a high neckline, and a very short, ruffled skirt that was shorter at her hips and longer in the front and back. It had silver accents and the Sentinels logo on the front.

Growing up, if the Sentinels were playing, her family was watching. Her father was a San Jose native and had been a fan since he’d been a kid. Keala and her brothers had been no different. While Keala had loved watching football, she’d loved seeing the cheerleaders dance on the sidelines more. When she’d been six or seven, she remembered seeing a throwback game and a cheerleader wearing this style outfit. Keala had always wanted to wear it just once.

After she took one last look at her makeup in the mirror, Cora pulled her into the meal room.

“Is everything okay?” Keala asked worriedly.

“Yes, yes. I’m just checking on you. You look tired.”

Keala’s eyebrows pinched. She’d worked late last night and had woken up early to quadruple check that everything she needed was packed. Then they’d had a rigorous two-hour field practice, so she was tired, despite the energy drink. She had put on a ton of makeup after practice to hide the bags under her eyes, but maybe she hadn’t done a good enough job.

“Oh, I can add more makeup if you think I need to. I was going to wait until after we finished appearances before our pregame dance, but…”

Cora clasped her shoulders, a small, genuine smile on her face. “Hon, I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m okay, I promise. I stayed at the hospital late after my shift and didn’t sleep as much as I should’ve.” It had been a product of changing her schedule, but at least she hadn’t been late to practice once since she’d been pseudo-fired. Though, it almost felt like she had gotten more busy since the change.

“You seem to be overworking yourself. When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep? Are you eating well? I don’t want Angelica to comment about your energy levels. She’s not in a good mood today. Some of the throwback uniforms are—” She shook her head, cutting herself off.

Falling asleep had always been a struggle for Keala, a thousand and one thoughts flitting through her head when she tried—tasks she needed to get done that she couldn’t stop thinking about. Sleep was rare, and she woke often. But that wasn’t likely to change. She’d been eating as much as she could remember to, but with so much going on, she sometimes skipped meals or had a full day of snacking. If she had to cook or feed herself, she fell apart because she couldn’t find the time to prioritize making anything.

Again, all things she had gotten used to over the years.

“I promise I’m okay.” Game days meant she got two full meals provided, so today was better than most.

Cora looked at her like she could see every little thing Keala thought. “Workaholism is an addiction, you know. It works the same way that alcohol and drugs do, only, society rewards us for it. They tell us that it’s good to work ourselves into the ground, that it’s good to hustle your whole life away, but its repercussions can be just as deadly. People applaud when you work yourself to death, and so workaholism becomes acceptable. But it’s not, and you’re hurting yourself in the long run.”

She said it like she had personal experience. Keala wondered why. She didn’t have anything to say though. Keala didn’t think of herself as a workaholic. Yes, she always needed to be busy, but not in a sense that was hurting her. Being busy was a comfort from the anxiety she felt pressing against her sternum when she sat still for too long.

Before she could voice once again that she was fine, Cora continued, “If you find that you can’t sit still, that you always need to be doing something or you don’t feel like you’re fulfilling your side of the bargain with the world, know that rest is necessary, okay? Please make sure you’re eating, staying hydrated, and getting enough sleep. Take care of yourself, because nobody else will do a better job of it than you.”

Keala nodded, though, internally, she was already brushing it off. She’d been like this her entire twenty-six years. In grade school, when she wanted her parents to know she was working hard, trying to play catch up with her younger brother, she took on extracurriculars and extra classes to prove she was a good student. She pushed herself so hard for every achievement, in dance and in school.

College and graduate school had been the same way. Hell, she’d simultaneously worked at the hospital, gotten her master’s degree, and cheered for the Vipers, so she had less on her plate now than before.

She would be fine.

The pregame dance and first half flew by since she danced for most of it. The few times she wasn’t dancing, she was doing her best not to watch Landon, focusing on Ikaika and Myles, the Sentinels quarterback, or literally anyone but her loathsome floormate.

Keala had spent a little over a week trying to stay away from him, throwing herself into practice at the field and hanging with the girls when she wasn’t at her parents’ house or at the hospital. Avoiding Landon felt like the best course of action, but that meant that she had spent a lot less time with Ikaika, and it was a loss she was beginning to feel.

Unfortunately, ignoring Landon at a game wasn’t so easy. He had been targeted an inordinate number of times. The two times he’d gotten a touchdown for the Sentinels, he had been showboating in the end zone, and she’d had to smash her teeth together hard enough to keep her eyes from rolling.

The crowd ate it up though. He might not have been a team favorite with his well-known shitty attitude and constant media presence, but anyone putting them on the board and up above Pittsburgh was going to get some love.

The halftime show came and went just as quickly, and Keala held back tears at the thought that this was her last first dance. Never again would she start a season in the center of the field in front of this many people, dancing like it was her body’s purpose. It was a heartbreaking thought, and having to force a smile through it made it worse. By the end, her feet were falling apart, her arms were tired from holding up her poms, and her cheeks were numb from smiling, lest she let it drop and get fifteen lashes from Angelica.

A joke, though she couldn’t imagine the consequences for not being perfect on the field.

The Sentinels slashed through the Pittsburgh defense easily in the second half too. Keala exclaimed along with the fans when the Sentinels offense got another couple of touchdowns. Landon had tried, on many occasions, to make eye contact, and as badly as she’d wanted to glare him down, she’d just cut her eyes away, ignoring that smug grin.

Keala had never spoken to anyone the way she had the night she found out he was moving in, and yet instead of running away, he’d stepped forward, a challenging smile on his face as if he liked that side of her. There was something freeing about letting someone see the real her. The version of herself that she hid beneath so many layers of pleasantries, happiness, and willingness to do things for others that even she didn’t know her. She wanted to push it, see how far she could be herself with him before he decided enough was enough.

It was a scary thought.

Maybe that was the real reason she’d stayed away.