When I was in middle school, I had a stuffed sea turtle I refused to part with. I'd gotten it at Sea World on a family vacation, and the only reason I have such a vivid memory of it was because there's a photo still in my parent's front hallway of me, Beth, and Amy where I'm holding that stuffed turtle in front of the turtle tank. I couldn't have been older than five. By the time I transitioned into 7th grade, my Little Mermaid themed room had grown into the abstract pinks and purples appropriate for my 7th grade self, but I refused to let that turtle go, even though my mother repeatedly insisted upon it, saying it was "for little kids."

I tried to find irony in the fact that I was laying in my old bedroom at my parent's house, clutching onto that turtle for dear life as I FaceTimed with Kayla. Football season had become so insane for both of us, we'd barely spoken over the last few months. I figured it was finally time to fill her in - what I did or didn't divulge at this point didn't matter anymore, because it happened, and I could no longer trick myself into thinking it didn't. At the very least, she wouldn't let me wallow in self-pity.

"Honestly, the worst part about that Barstool article was that whoever wrote it definitely thought they were paying you compliments," Kayla said with a sour face. She'd cut her hair short since the last time I'd seen her, and her auburn red waves now stopped at her collarbone. "Do you think Reid's seen it?"

"Who knows?" I sighed out, squeezing the neck of the turtle a little tighter into the crook of my arm. The very mention of Reid's name still made my chest tighten. "I don't think it matters. We are decidedly not together, so there's no longer any merit in the article anyway. Serves them right."

"I still can't believe the first time you had sex with him was after Derek's birthday party and none of us figured it out," Kayla snickered through the phone. "You two were slick."

"We agreed not to tell anyone," I groaned, rolling over onto my stomach. "At the time I was so convinced it was going to be a one-time thing, and it really just should have been. It would have saved us both a lot of aggravation."

"That's what you're choosing to call this?" Kayla tilted her head. "Aggravation?"

I groaned again. "What else am I supposed to call it?"

"Uh, how about being sad about breaking up with your boyfriend because you want a successful career that isn't related to him?"

"He was never my boyfriend, and I'm not sad." I'd rolled onto my back now, leaving my phone upwards so Kayla could watch my ceiling fan spin with me.

"Uh huh, sure," Kayla scoffed. "Listen, nobody understands how you're feeling better than I do. I made the same decision you did." When she paused, I reached over for my phone and held it back over my head. Kayla looked puzzled.

"Do you regret it?" I asked her. "I mean, not letting what was happening with you and JJ play out?"

Kayla let out a dry chuckle. "Sometimes. But there are also times that I'm happy with where I'm at now, and I just don't know what the outcome would have been if JJ and I pursued something, but...I'm also not sure I loved JJ. Not the way you love Reid."

The use of present tense when Kayla said love made me feel like I was being zapped, like a stupid moth who'd flown too close to a porch light. I was the stupid moth who would probably love him forever. That didn't mean I wanted to be reminded of that fact.

"You could still talk to him, you know," I offered. Anything at this point to get the subject off of Reid. "He's not seeing anyone."

Kayla shrugged. "I think the damage is already done. It would be different now. Too much time has passed, and all those old wounds are scarred over now."

I didn't know how that felt. My wounds were open and festering, and as much as I knew it was the right thing to talk to Kayla and get a shred of validity in my decision, the very thought of this last week's events made it feel like someone was sticking their fingers in them, ripping it open wider.

"Alright, I gotta go," Kayla heaved herself off of her bed. "I need to help my mom wrap all the cousin presents, but I'm around if you need me. Merry Christmas, love you."

"Love you too." I meant it. I was certain by now that I knew what it felt like to love someone, even platonically.

After we hung up, I laid on my bed and stared at my ceiling fan a little longer, hoping my wounds would start to stitch themselves.

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"I like this cheddar, there's a bit of smokiness to it," I said as I swiped another slice from the block my mother had been cutting.

"I still think I prefer that gouda I got from Nanina's Deli in Sleepy Hollow," she replied.

"You went all the way to Sleepy Hollow for cheese?"

"I will drive hours for good cheese," my mother said plainly, as if this was a normal thing for most people. But, having a conversation with my mom about something as silly as cheese made things feel normal.

She finished slicing the cheddar and handed me a small stack of it. She gestured with her cheese knife to the apple tulips I'd been making. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Instagram," I told her, strategically placing a few on the new white marble charcuterie board my dad got her as an early Christmas present. "It's not that hard when you watch someone else do it first."

"She's so full of shit," Beth chimed in from across the room, where her and Amy had been scrolling through TV channels. "She's the only one who thinks its easy. She could be one of those foodie influencers on Instagram that make those short aesthetically pleasing videos of them cooking and baking."

"Elizabeth, please," my mother sighed out. "Language."

Amy snickered and whacked Beth on the arm. "Yeah Elizabeth."

"Shut up," Beth grumbled.

I smirked to myself as I finished up the last apple. When I would come home for the holidays and stuff in the past, I would always feel small. Nobody did it on purpose, but it didn't change the feeling. I knew now that being big made the target on you big too, and right now I would have been content with being small enough to slide into the cracks between the couch cushions.

"God, the stores were a madhouse," my dad said as he came into the kitchen through the door to the garage. He dropped a few grocery bags on the counter and immediately reached for the cheese.

"Don't touch!" my mom and I swatted him away simultaneously, and Amy and Beth cackled from the living room.

My mother had laid out the rest of the cheeses, and I tried to seamlessly color coordinate the crackers, pickles, olives, and fruits.

"Looks good," she said as she stood on her toes to press a kiss to my temple. I'd been taller than her since the 9th grade, but for some reason I was just starting to actually notice the difference.

My parents decided it would be an exclusively Lawrence household Christmas this year. It was the first time since I'd been at school that we'd all been home for Christmas the same year. Amy's had residencies and exams, Beth's been on work incentive trips, and I've been doing football stuff. Amy's fiance Jared would join us tomorrow night, but on Christmas Eve, it was just us five. My parents had opted for a fake tree this year for my mother's pristine Tiffany ornament collection, and I didn't realize how much I'd miss the evergreen smell of a real one.

Me, Amy, and Beth also exchanged our little gifts that night, sitting on the floor of the living room among the various holiday-themed blankets and cushions my mom had taken out. I'd convinced them to keep ESPN on in the background while the fire crackled in the background.

By now my sisters always expected something Clemson-related from me, giving Beth a glass tiger figurine for her desk and Amy a Clemson Tervis to add to her collection of 10,000 mugs and tumblers. I was normally a more clever-gift giver than this, but I'd been distracted lately.

"Sorry, I didn't have time to wrap it," Beth said as she handed me a UPS packet. "I got it from Etsy, though."

"Cute," I smirked as I ripped the packaging open. A big pink koozie tumbled out, and in wavy, block print it said this is my emotional support iced coffee, decorated with little smiley faces and groovy flowers.

"It's for your iced coffees," Beth said with a triumphant grin.

"Yeah I gathered that," I chuckled. "Thanks, this is really cute, and I am so sick of getting drippy condensation on me all the time."

"Well if you drank hot coffee like a normal adult, you wouldn't have these issues," Beth shrugged. "But, I digress."

"Despite being busier than Beth, I did wrap your gift," Amy scoffed as she slid across the floor to hand me a small brown box, wrapped with shiny silver ribbon and a bow. Inside was a thin, silver chain bracelet with the tiniest disco ball charm I'd ever seen.

"Aw she's so cute and teeny. I love it Amy, thank you." I held out my wrist for Beth to clasp the bracelet on. "I love disco balls."

"I know that." The duh was implied as Amy smiled and propped her chin up in her hand. "Saw it at a market at the wharf, instantly thought of you."

I sighed and sat back on a cushion while Amy and Beth went on about something else Amy got at that market. I glanced down at my bracelet again, the disco ball throwing tiny bits of confetti light to the hardwood floor. My sisters really did know me better than I gave them credit for, and maybe if my head hadn't been so far up my ass lately, I wouldn't have taken that for granted.

I volunteered to refill our Irish Coffees while our parents said goodnight.

"Oh, oh, wait turn this up," Amy perked up, fumbling around for the TV remote.

When I glanced up to look at the TV, my heart sank. There he was, his perfect face and his perfect stats being rattled off on Sportscenter as two analysts went in depth on the Clemson vs. Georgia matchup on New Years Day.

"Okay, we can turn this off now and go back to watching Hallmark," I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"No way, I wanna hear this." Beth found the remote and raised the volume just in time for me to hear his name.

"I think everyone's expecting a monster performance from Reid Donahue. Not only is he riding the high of his Heisman victory, but he's never lost to the same team twice in his collegiate career."

"Give me the remote." I lunged at Beth, who backed up into the couch and held the remote over her head. "This is childish, Beth."

"Come on, that's your quarterback." She wiggled her eyebrows at me, as if the word quarterback meant something else entirely. "Don't you want to hear what they have to say?"

"He's not mine!" I snapped, and the room fell silent. My sisters looked at me like I'd suddenly sprouted three more heads, and all that liquor and cream was starting to churn in my stomach.

"Never mind," I sighed and shook my head. "I'm tired, I'm going to bed."

I left before either of them could really react, going up the stairs two at a time and nearly slipping on the hardwood in my fuzzy socks. When I finally made it to my room, I threw myself on the bed and grabbed my stuffed turtle, burying my face in its soft shell. I heaved out a shaky breath, wondering when I'd allowed myself to become such a fragile and nervous little girl. I wondered how I was going to be able to stand the very sight of him, knowing what I'd done to us.

I heard the door creak open, but I didn't turn around.

"Are you okay?" That was Amy.

"I'm fine," I grumbled, squeezing the turtle a little tighter.

The bed shifted as she sat down on it.

"Does this have to do with the article I sent you the other day?" Beth, and another shift of the bed.

"What article?" Amy asked, her tone snapping upwards just slightly.

I finally rolled over, still holding that damn turtle. "Look, I don't wanna talk about it, okay? I'm sorry I freaked out."

"Why don't you want to talk about it?" Amy asked again, now softer and more composed.

"Because..." This part sucked. Looking my sisters head on and having to face their judgy looks. But they didn't look judgy. They looked concerned. I sniffed and rubbed my nose with the back of my hand. "My problems always feel so trivial compared to yours. You guys deal with real shit. Real things that affect real people. I deal with...sweaty guys throwing a ball around, and in turn somehow falling in love with one of those stupid sweaty guys."

Beth scoffed. "Okay, that's the dumbest fucking thing I've ever heard."

Amy whacked her on the arm. "I think what Beth means is that we don't think your problems are trivial. Have we made you feel that way?"

I rolled over onto my back and heaved out a sigh. "I know you don't do it on purpose. But sometimes...it still sucks."

My bed was nowhere near big enough for all three of us to lay on, and yet they each crawled onto either side of me and wrapped me up, all our legs tangled up so we all fit.

"You wanna tell us what happened?" Beth rested her head on my shoulder.

Six simple words and the dam broke. There was something about being held by someone else, someone that mattered, that made you feel like you could come undone. The tears flowed freely down my face, and I could barely get the words out past the flaming agony in my chest.

"I've done this to myself," I choked out through sobs. "I thought I was doing the right thing, so why do I still feel like I ruined everything? How am I supposed to look at him without feeling like I want to turn myself inside out?"

Amy shushed me, stroking the top of my head. "It's okay, Jo. It's okay."

"I love him so much." It didn't even sound like me, but I knew it was because I meant it more than I'd meant anything else.

Amy and Beth laid there with me, holding my sobbing shaking body like maybe they could have somehow put me back together.

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my girlies really needed their time. 3 more to go <3