Mom comes to my room first thing on Saturday. She sits behind me on the bed, braiding my hair for the tournament.
“I’m sorry about last night, Mikayla. We never had a chance to talk.”
“I noticed.”
Mom’s coffee breath is comforting and familiar. If I don’t say anything, we can stay like this. Me, Cody, and Mom get along fine. So what if Evan comes home every couple weeks and sweeps us all up in his problems?
Mom begins to hum. It’s “Edelweiss,” a song from The Sound of Music. She used to sing it to me when I was small. And that’s when I know, no matter what I say, Mom loves me.
I turn to face her. “I have to tell you something. It’s about Evan. You’re not going to like it.”
Mom’s face tightens. She rolls her shoulders. “I’m ready.”
When I lay out the whole story for her, all she does is nod.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Mikayla?”
Spike the hedgehog sits in my lap. I squeeze him in my hands. “I was afraid. You say I have to be loyal to our family no matter what. And you and Dad always put Evan first.”
Mom starts to protest, but I stop her.
“Okay. Not always, but you do. When he messes up like this, gets so angry or upset that he doesn’t think straight, you make excuses. It’s not good for him. And you push me and Cody out, but we know what’s happening.”
Mom looks in her lap, instead of at me, so I put my hand over hers.
“Is Evan going to be okay?”
“He’s going back to Dad’s today.”
“Oh.”
“It’s not perfect,” Mom says. “But Evan needs Dad. Your father may be obsessed with sports, but underneath he’s a gentle man.” She closes her eyes. “I’m glad you told me, honey. You’re right. We have to make some changes. I’ll talk to your father. Speaking of which”—Mom stands up, full of energy again—“he’ll be here in thirty minutes.”
“Dad’s taking me to the qualifier?”
“He insisted. He said this is The One.”
I hope Dad is right. If I place in the top three today, I’ll be the youngest Delgado ever to make States. Maybe, now that I told Mom what’s been bothering me, I’ll be able to focus and wrestle.
Dad and I are quiet in the car. I asked Mom not to speak with him until we get back. It’s an hour-long drive to Frederick. I listen to the playlist of songs Kenna and Lalita made for me at the beginning of the season. Dad drinks his coffee. We get there with plenty of time to weigh in. I’ve been creeping up on 95 pounds this month. Dad raises his eyebrows at me. I have to make sure I stay under 95 for a couple more weeks. I don’t want to be like Josh Kim, struggling in a higher weight class right at the end of the season.
I climb to the top of the bleachers, but Lev’s not there. The buzz of the tournament feels far away, like I’m standing on a tall building. All the people and their noise are far below, where they can’t touch me.
So this is why Lev likes it up here, I tell myself.
When Dad comes to get me for my first match, he waves a hand in front of my face. “Find your focus, Mickey. Whatever’s bothering you, put it aside.”
“I’m fine, Dad. I’m ready.” I’ve been holding so many things inside. I can’t wait to get on the mat and take it all out on someone.
My first bout is close. I lose by one point.
“You should’ve had that,” Dad says. I pull off my headgear and hair cap, but before I can shake my braids out, Dad puts his hands on either side of my head. “You’re wrestling sloppy.”
I’ve seen him get in Evan’s face, and Cody’s, at tournaments, but he’s never done it to me. Dad’s nose is close to mine. I see his red-brown stubble and the tight muscles in his neck. My eyes prickle. I can’t cry at a tournament.
“You didn’t wrestle to win. You’ve got to convince yourself you can win, no matter who’s across the mat from you. Doesn’t matter if it’s a boy, a girl, or a hedgehog.” He puts a hand on my forehead and smirks. “You got me?”
I blink the tears away. “Yes, Dad.”
“You’ll have to wrestle yourself out of a hole if you want third place.”
Dad sits in his canvas chair and types notes about my match into his phone. Dad’s paying attention, real attention, for the first time. He can be harsh, but I know he wants to help me get better.
I come up behind the chair and put my arms around his neck. “When’s my next match?”
Dad hands me the phone. I look over the bracket again. I see Lev’s name, and Nick’s.
“I’m going to find Lev.”
When I’m sure Dad’s busy with his phone, I duck out to the concession stand, buy a pack of Twizzlers, then climb up the bleachers.
This time, he’s there, sitting in his usual spot.
“Nice view,” I say. Lev doesn’t answer. “I wasn’t sure you were coming until I saw the bracket sheet.”
I hold out the Twizzlers. Lev pulls a couple of red twists from the pack. We lean against the wall, staring at the crowd while we chew.
“My father was the one who got Evan into wrestling,” I tell him. “He wrestled too, when he was in high school. It was the one thing he and Evan kept doing together, after Dad moved out.”
I nibble the end of my Twizzler. I can’t tell if Lev’s paying attention, but I keep going. “Then Cody started. All the custody time Dad was supposed to spend with us on weekends? It was at wrestling tournaments. I used to have a Wonder Woman backpack for tournament days. It had coloring books, Go Fish cards, and a sleeping bag. Evan would make a bed for me across the bleachers and half the time I fell asleep.”
“Why did you start wrestling?” Lev asks.
“I wanted to be like my brothers. Being a Delgado means being a wrestler. What about you?”
“I used to get occupational therapy, when I was little,” Lev says, without looking at me. “I couldn’t handle loud noises, or lumpy foods like mashed potatoes and bananas. But I liked crashing into stuff. I was always banging into kids on the playground. The OT told my mom I should try wrestling.”
We’re quiet for a minute. “Evan’s not a bad person,” I say. My eyes are prickling again.
“I know.” Lev grabs another Twizzler from the pack. “It still wasn’t right, what he did.”
“I know,” I say, “but it’s complicated. When you’re on the mat, when your head is trapped between some kid’s sweaty arm and his ribs, it’s hard to think about right and wrong. I just want to get out. I want to get out and beat him, no matter what it takes.”
“I don’t know if I’m like that,” Lev says. “If that’s what it takes to win, maybe I’m not a wrestler, after all.”
“You are a wrestler, Lev. I’ve learned so much from being your partner.” I stand up. “I have a match soon. Want to warm up with me?” But Lev is already leaning over his notebook.
I win the next match. When I check the updated bracket sheet, I see that Nick lost to the same kid who beat me this morning. That means he’s my next opponent.
I jog back and forth along the mat, where Josh Kim is wrestling a kid from the Gold Medal team. The ref raises Josh’s hand. I step up to the judges’ table. A mom with long black hair and a Gold Medal Wrestling shirt blinks her big mascaraed lashes at me.
“Aren’t you precious with your pink wrestling shoes and knee socks? What’s your name, sweetie?”
I refuse to smile at her. “Delgado.”
Isaiah’s mother takes the timekeeper’s seat next to Lash Lady. Lev runs up to the table carrying a duct-taped towel. He nods at me. He must be helping to keep time. His dad is busy volunteering on another mat.
In our corner, Coach Billy picks me up by the shoulders, the way Dad always does when he’s coaching me or my brothers. He squeezes me, stretching out my shoulders until my feet leave the floor.
Nick Spence checks in at the judges’ table. He looks to the Eagles’ corner. Dr. Spence has his arms crossed over his chest. I’m surprised to see Nick’s sister there too. She tugs on her father’s sleeve and says, “That’s the girl with the pink shoes.” I smile and give her a wave.
I hear Nick tell the judges, “I forfeit.”
Isaiah’s mom stops setting the clock. “Forfeit on what grounds?” she asks.
“There’s no rule that he has to give a reason,” Dr. Spence barks in his tight voice. “I would know if there was.”
All the adults crowd around the table: Coach Billy, Dr. Spence, and the ref. I see my father making his way over there too, but Coach Billy waves him off.
I wish someone would tell me what’s going on. Are they going to make Nick wrestle? I need to stay warm, so I take a few shots and try to block out all the voices. But I hear Coach Billy tell Nick, “You’re in the consolation bracket already. If you forfeit, you’re out.”
“Don’t speak to my son,” Dr. Spence says. “He does not have to wrestle a female if he doesn’t want to.”
While they argue, Nick runs over to his sister. He pops off his headgear and puts it on her head. The way she smiles at him reminds me of me and Evan, when I was little.
I try to catch Coach Billy’s attention. I want to tell him Nick can forfeit if he wants, as long as I get a win and move up in the bracket. But Lev finds me first.
“Don’t let ’em mess with you,” he says. His cheeks are flushed. He takes my arm and walks me over to Coach. Lev stands tall, with his shoulders back. He taps Coach Billy on the shoulder.
“Spence hasn’t wrestled Mickey all season,” Lev says. “He forfeited matches and cut weight so he wouldn’t have to wrestle her.”
“Lev, stay out of it,” Coach says.
Lev ignores him and turns to the ref. “Why should he be allowed to forfeit? So what if she’s a girl?”
The ref shakes his head. “I can’t stop him from forfeiting a match, son.”
Dr. Spence stares at me, arms folded. In the stands, I hear people grumbling. Dad is talking to some of the Eagles parents he knows. They’re pointing at the mat. Some people are booing. I can’t tell who’s on my side and who’s with the Spences. I spot Josh and Isaiah talking nearby. I wish I could join them, but I can’t walk off the mat until the ref calls the match.
“Coach, say something,” Lev begs Coach Billy. “Do something. You can’t let them treat a Gladiator this way. Mickey works harder than anyone.”
I know Lev hates Nick Spence. I know he’s upset about Evan. He wants to do the right thing, but even the grown-ups don’t know what the right thing is. He should save his anger for the mat, but he won’t stop running his mouth.
“Tell the wrestling board to change the rules! Stand up to the Spences!” Lev shouts at Coach. “Why are you afraid of them?”
The voices in the stands are getting louder.
“I need to talk to my wrestler,” Coach Billy tells the ref. He pulls Lev off the mat and out of the gym.
There’s a small smile on Coach Spence’s face. Next to him, Nick’s sister covers her ears with both hands.
“Are we wrestling?” the ref says. He’s tapping his foot on the mat.
Nick shakes his head.
The ref meets me in the center of the mat and holds up my hand. I pop open my headgear, pull on my Gladiators hoodie and shorts. I want to talk to Josh and Isaiah, but instead, I end up chasing after my father. He stomps out of the gym, ranting about outdated rules. “I need some air. I’m going to the car to cool off,” he says.
That afternoon, I wrestle like a beast. I work my way up to third place in my weight class. My trophy may not have a girl on top, but I did it. I made it to the state wrestling tournament.
I can’t wait to tell Lev, but he texts me first.
I quit Gladiators.
I shiver and pull my jacket up over my head like a tent, so I can see his words glowing on the screen. I grip my phone tight and type. Why?
He doesn’t answer.
Thanks for sticking up for me, I write. There’s no reply.