Isa Martínez | 𝟭𝟵𝟵𝟲
Wiskayok, New Jersey

Isa Martínez was one of the best players on her school's soccer team, but most people dismissed her talent because she was the coach's daughter. The reality was, her dad didn't even want her on the team. It had taken her mom's persuasion just to get her a spot her freshman year. Isa played as a wide midfielder, working alongside Natalie Scatorccio.

The Yellowjackets had just wrapped up a scrimmage against the JV team. Isa's younger brother, Javi, stayed to watch as he always did, cheering her on as her number one fan and helped their dad put away the equipment. Her older brother, Travis, however, was a different story. He would rather walk all the way home than stay and support her or be anywhere near their dad.

"Isabela, if you expect the team to make it to states you need to put in more practice," her father, Bill, said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't want a repeat of last year. That was humiliating."

"What was so humiliating?" Isa shot back. "When I collapsed on the field from exhaustion? Or was it the part where I barely ate anything for a year trying to better myself for the team?"

Bill dropped his arms and balled his fists at his side, squeezing them until his knuckles turned white. "Watch your tone, Isabela."

"Fuck this," Isa muttered, snatching her bag from the sidelines before storming off toward her car.

When Isa pulled into the driveway, she didn't waste a second. She jumped out of the car and stormed into the house.

"How was practice—"

"Great, Mom." Isa cut her off, barely glancing her way before heading upstairs. Bill's constant critiques of her performance on the field drove her crazy.

She kicked off her cleats, flopped onto her bed still in her sweaty uniform, and stared at the ceiling.

A soft knock came from her door. "Isa?" Her mom poked her head in. "I thought I should remind you that your dad's birthday dinner is tomorrow."

Isa scoffed. "I'm not fucking going."

Her mom sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "You know your dad loves you. He just has a hard time showing it."

"It'll be the same as always. Javi won't say a word, Travis will be an asshole, dad and I will fight the whole time, and you'll try to keep the peace."

"You can invite a friend," her mom suggested gently. "Maybe Mari or Laura Lee?"

"It's my birthday too, did you forget?" Isa's voice was sharp with irritation.

Her mother sighed, the sound heavy with guilt and exhaustion. "I know, Isa. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Isa had never been fond of her birthday. Every year, it seemed to come and go without much notice—her mom usually forgot, wrapped up in other things, while her dad didn't even pretend to care and celebrated his birthday the way he wanted. The only ones who tried were Javi and Travis. They'd sneak a cupcake from the kitchen, stick a little candle in it, and tiptoe up to her room, singing softly as they stood in her doorway. Those quiet moments were the closest thing to celebration she ever got, and somehow, they meant more than any big party ever could.

Isa nodded slowly. She'd heard that promise before, each time ringing a little hollower. "I'll think about it," she replied.

Her mom smiled softly. "I'll let you rest. I know practice with your dad can be exhausting."

Isa grinned a little. "Yeah, it is."

After her mom left, Isa laid still, waiting until she heard the soft pad of footsteps fading down the stairs. Only then did she let out a breath, sitting up in bed and running a hand through her hair. The air in her room felt heavy, like it was closing in on her. She needed to get out, she needed space to think without feeling watched or judged.

Moving quietly, she slipped on her letterman jacket, its familiar weight draping over her shoulders like armor, and pulled on her sneakers. She crept toward the window, listening for any sound that might signal her mom was still nearby. When everything stayed quiet, she slowly lifted the window and swung her legs over the sill. With ease, she climbed down, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and a little rebellion.

Outside, the cool night air hit her skin, grounding her. The world felt still, like it belonged just to her in that moment. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and walked down the empty streets, her mind buzzing with all the things she couldn't say at home.

By the time she reached the liquor store, her thoughts had settled into a dull ache, a feeling she knew all too well. She pushed open the door, the warm, fluorescent lights washing over her. She walked straight to the counter, knowing exactly what she was here for—a pack of cigarettes to burn off the edge that hung around her every day, an edge she could never quite shake.

"ID?" the cashier asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Where's Martin? He usually rings me up."

"He's not working today."

"Martin doesn't card me—"

"Look kid, no ID, no cigarettes."

"My birthday's tomorrow. Can't you just let it slide?"

"You look about twelve, I ain't selling you shit."

Isa's eyes narrowed. "I'll climb over this counter and kick your ass. How about that?"

The cashier smirked, leaning in. "I'd like to see you try little girl."

"Isa!" She turned to see Natalie standing in the doorway. Natalie grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the store before she could follow through on her threat.

"What is wrong with you?" Natalie asked.

Isa shrugged off Natalie's arm. "I just wanted to smoke."

"Regionals are in two weeks. You can get arrested for assault after the game." Natalie dug around in her pocket, pulling out a half-empty pack of cigarettes and offered one to Isa.

Isa took a cigarette and lit it. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Natalie said.

Isa exhaled a cloud of smoke into the cool spring air. "I know a spot we could go to. It's quiet."

"Lead the way, Magellan," Natalie replied.

Isa rolled her eyes but started walking, feeling the slightest tug of a smile at the corner of her mouth as Natalie fell into step beside her.

———

The night was quiet, blanketed in that thick, cool stillness that made every small sound feel sharper. Natalie and Isa sat side by side on the hood of an old car parked in an abandoned parking lot, the world stretched out around them, dark and endless. The glow of their cigarettes pulsed in the night as they took slow drags, watching the faint lines of smoke curl up and disappear into the sky.

Isa broke the silence first, exhaling smoke and tracing shapes in the air with her free hand. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you could just... leave?" she asked, her voice low and almost vulnerable. "Like, pack up, vanish, go somewhere no one knows you."

Natalie smirked, her gaze fixed on the ground as she flicked her ashes. "All the time," she said, her voice rough but softened just for Isa. "I mean, who wouldn't want to get out of this shithole? But I feel like I'd just end up somewhere else that feels the same, you know?"

Isa nodded, chewing on her lip as she considered that. "Yeah, maybe. But I still think somewhere else, it might be easier to breathe. Somewhere I don't have to worry about what my dad thinks or what I'm supposed to be doing."

Natalie turned to look at her, studying Isa's profile in the dim light. "You don't let him get to you, though," she said, almost like it was a fact she admired. "You actually stand up to him. That takes guts."

Isa laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah, and it just makes him angrier. Sometimes I wonder if it's even worth it. Like, why do I keep fighting him? Why don't I just stop?"

Natalie's face softened. "Because that's not who you are," she said, her voice quieter. "You don't give up, Isa. That's what makes you different."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the words hanging between them. Isa took a long drag, letting the smoke linger in her lungs before exhaling slowly.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm just... pretending," Isa murmured, barely loud enough for Natalie to hear. "Pretending to be strong, pretending I don't care. But inside, it's like I'm cracking."

Natalie reached out, nudging Isa's shoulder with her own. "I get that," she said, her eyes fixed ahead. "I mean, I don't let people in, you know? But with you, it's different. I feel like I don't have to pretend as much."

Isa smiled faintly, a warmth blooming in her chest that had nothing to do with the night air or the nicotine. "Yeah, same here," she whispered.

They both fell quiet, each lost in their own thoughts, but feeling a little less alone in the darkness. Above them, the stars were scattered like shards of glass, distant and untouchable, but somehow they felt closer than ever.

"Natalie," Isa said, breaking the silence. She kept her voice casual, but there was an edge of nervousness in it.

Natalie glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Isa paused, taking a deep breath and looking down at her hands. "So tomorrow's my dad's birthday dinner," she said, her tone betraying just how little she was looking forward to it. "And, well, my mom said I could bring a friend. You know, to make it less unbearable."

Natalie smirked, giving her a sideways look. "Your dad's birthday dinner? Sounds like a blast."

Isa let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, it'll be a real party, trust me. Just the usual family dysfunction and my dad nitpicking every single thing I do. Thought maybe if you came, I wouldn't you know, lose my mind."

Natalie took a drag from her cigarette, considering. "You sure he's not going to lose his shit if I'm there?"

"Probably," Isa admitted with a shrug. "But honestly, that's kind of the appeal. You'd be like my buffer. Plus, maybe if I've got you there, I won't end up walking out in the middle of it."

Natalie chuckled, looking amused. "Alright, I'm in. But only because watching your dad squirm sounds more entertaining than anything else I could do tomorrow."

Isa smiled, a mixture of relief and gratitude in her expression. "Thanks, Nat. Seriously. I really didn't want to do this alone."

Natalie softened a little, nudging Isa's shoulder. "Hey, don't mention it. What are friends for if not to sit through awkward family dinners and mess with uptight dads?"

They both laughed, a little bit of the tension dissolving as they shared the moment. Isa took a deep breath, feeling a little lighter now, knowing she didn't have to face her family's chaos alone.

———

Natalie hadn't expected anything quite so tense. She shifted in her seat, glancing around the dinner table, feeling the awkward weight of the family dynamic pressing down on her shoulders. Isa's dad, Bill, sat at the head, his face a careful mask of indifference as he cut into his steak. Isa's mom hovered with a strained smile, trying to keep the peace, while Isa's brothers, Javi and Travis, sat across from her.

Travis had barely looked up since Natalie sat down, and Javi gave her shy smiles every now and then, clearly glad she was there. But Isa was silent, poking at her food with her fork, eyes locked somewhere just above her plate.

"So, Natalie," Bill said suddenly, turning his steely gaze toward her. "Are you ready for states?"

Natalie could feel Isa tense beside her, and she forced a polite smile. "I am."

Bill gave a curt nod, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Well, maybe you can convince Isa to practice more. She needs it."

Isa rolled her eyes. "Here we go."

"Excuse me?" Bill's voice was tight, the challenge clear.

Isa sighed and sat back, folding her arms. "It's my birthday too, you know," she muttered under her breath. "Not that anyone cares."

Bill set his knife down with a harsh clink. "This dinner is about celebrating, Isa. You could at least try to act like you're happy to be here."

Isa let out a bitter laugh, throwing her napkin down onto her plate. "Oh, I'm thrilled, Dad. Nothing says 'happy birthday' like you constantly reminding me how much I disappoint you."

Natalie shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Isa's mom, who was watching her daughter with a pained expression, clearly wanting to step in but not knowing how.

"Isabela," her mother murmured, reaching out a hand.

Isa shook her head, ignoring her mom. "Natalie, want to get some air?" she asked, already pushing her chair back.

Bill opened his mouth to say something, but Natalie quickly stood. "Fuck you coach," she said, her voice laced with anger. "You're a piece of shit."

Before he could respond, she followed Isa out of the restaurant and into the cool evening air.

Once outside, Isa kicked at a loose rock, her jaw tight. "Sorry about that," she muttered, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets. "I knew he'd pull something like that."

Natalie shrugged, trying to keep things light. "Hey, no big deal."

Isa huffed a laugh, rubbing her arms against the chill. "Thanks for coming anyway. Having you there helped."

Natalie gave her a small smile. "Anytime, Isa. Seriously." She nudged her friend. "Next year, let's skip the family dinner and do something actually worth celebrating."

Isa grinned, the tension in her shoulders easing as she looked at Natalie. "You've got yourself a deal."