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“Carlos, come on!” Willie calls. “I wanna skate around before Triple Threat’s time slot.”
Willie bounces on their toes at the bottom of the stairs, checking their watch. PorchFest started an hour ago, and their little brother has been dragging his feet since then. Mostly because he doesn’t want to brave the crowd gathered outside their house to see their dads perform, which Willie gets, but it’s a necessary evil to get to the rest of the people performing.
Carlos comes clomping down the stairs, skateboard tucked under his arm. “I don’t wanna go.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Willie insists, dragging him towards the door. “And I promised Papi I’d get you out today.”
“Can’t we say I’m sick?”
Willie rolls their eyes. “You know Dad can smell a lie a mile away.”
He throws open the front door and drags Carlos out onto the front porch, where they’re immediately greeted by loud cheers. Two of their dads, Trevor and Caleb, are mid-song, while the third, Ray, takes photographs. Trevor stops playing his guitar as soon as he sees them, and Caleb quickly follows suit.
“Hey, everyone!” Trevor cheers into his microphone. “These are our kids, Willie and Carlos.”
The crowd cheers for them. There’s so many people Willie can’t even see the street. Carlos shrinks away from the attention, but Caleb pulls him into his side.
“Our daughters are performing here later,” Caleb adds. “They’re called Triple Threat, make sure you catch their performance at 3.”
Ray chuckles and wraps an arm around Caleb’s waist. “Okay, mi amor, let the kids go before Carlos keels over from embarrassment.”
Caleb lets Carlos go, and he scurries to hide behind Willie.
“Have fun kiddos,” Trevor waves. “Make sure you go support your sisters.”
“Will do, Pops,” Willie promises. “Come on, ‘Los.”
He leads Carlos down off the porch as their dads resume their music and they muscle through the crowd. Once they get through the worst of it, they drop their boards and start riding around the neighborhood.
PorchFest is honestly Willie’s favorite day of the year. Everyone in the neighborhood attends, either to play music on their porches or to spectate, and it’s always a good time. Their neighborhood is popular among college students too, so there’s always new acts every year. Their dads have been a staple since they moved into this neighborhood, and now that Julie is back into music, Triple Threat is making its comeback debut.
After about an hour of skating around and checking out the different acts—everyone from garage bands to kids’ performers to anyone with an instrument and a porch— they happen upon a crowd almost as large as the one at their house. Whoever’s playing has an upbeat, pop punk sound, and Willie skates closer to try and get a look at the band.
As soon as she catches sight of them—the four prettiest boys he’s ever seen— he’s so distracted that he skates straight into a parked car, getting himself thrown off their skateboard and onto the ground.
“Willie!” Carlos yelps, rushing over to her as she groans in pain. “Are you okay?”
Willie rubs their head. His vision is kinda blurry and all four of his limbs sting. She’s vaguely aware of the music cutting out.
“Are they okay?” Someone asks, sounding like they spoke into a microphone.
A moment later, there are hands on him. “Come on, we’ve got first aid stuff inside,” another voice says. “Bobby, get his other arm.”
Willie is lifted into the air, arms secured around two tall boys’ shoulders. Through his daze he belatedly recognizes them as the drummer and one of the guitarists from the band.
“‘M sorry,” she mumbles as she’s dragged into the house, “your set.”
Another one of the boys, a pretty one with green eyes and freckles, shushes him as he’s lowered into a chair at the kitchen table.
“Don’t worry about it,” Freckles says. “We’ve got all day to play. What’s your name, gorgeous?”
Willie gapes at him and very eloquently replies, “Um.”
“Her name’s Willie,” Carlos replies for him, “and they’re not that pretty.”
Willie aims an elbow at his brother’s gut, but his vision is still swimming and he misses.
The drummer freezes as he brings over a first aid kit. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to misgender you.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Willie assures him, “I use all pronouns. I don’t care what kinda gendered terms you use.”
“Oh cool,” the lead singer chimes in, taking a seat next to Willie. He takes Willie’s hand and starts examining the scrape on her palm. Willie thanks whatever god may exist that their complexion hides their blush. “Bobby’s like that too.”
“I’m Bobby,” the tall dark-haired one supplies helpfully. “The flirt is Reggie, and those two are Luke and Alex.”
“I’m Willie,” they say, just to prove they do, in fact, remember their own name. “And this little shit is my brother, Carlos.”
Carlos sticks his tongue out at her in retaliation and Willie mirrors the motion.
Alex sits down in front of Willie and starts pulling bandaids out of the kit. “Do you live in the neighborhood?”
“Yeah,” Willie says, watching as Bobby kneels in front of them with a wet washcloth. He starts cleaning up the bleeding cut on Willie’s leg, and Willie forgets how to speak for a moment. “Our dads are performing at our house now and our sisters are performing later.”
“Ooh, a musical family,” Luke says, eyes twinkling. “Do you play anything?”
“Nah,” Willie says, at the same time Carlos chimes in, “He dances.”
“No way, me too!” Alex grins. “What kind of dance? I do ballet.”
“Mostly musical theater and pop,” Willie says, though he’s a bit distracted by Reggie, who seems content to leave his friends to clean Willie up. Instead, he’s just rubbing Willie’s shoulders, and it feels better than it should considering Willie literally just learned this guy’s name. “I’m in my sister’s dance group and I work at my Dad’s club downtown on weekends.”
“What club?” Reggie asks. “Maybe we’ve played there.”
“I think I would have remembered you,” Willie blurts out before she can think.
She expects to be laughed at, but instead all she gets is Bobby’s lips curling up into a smirk.
“Yeah,” they chuckle, “I think we would have remembered you too.”
Carlos pretends to gag. Willie ignores him.
“What’s your band’s name?” Willie asks.
“Sunset Curve,” Luke says, and Reggie chirps, “Tell your friends!”
“I definitely will,” Willie giggles.
Bobby smooths a band-aid over the cut on Willie’s leg and Luke places one on his hand. Alex has littered Willie’s arms with band-aids, all of which have Star Wars characters on them. Reggie keeps on rubbing her shoulders.
“How’s your head feeling?” Reggie asks. “It looked like you hit that car pretty hard.”
“It’s a little sore,” Willie says, rubbing at the spot that made impact. “I don’t think it’s a concussion though.”
“Are you sure?” Alex frets, and Carlos snorts.
“Trust me,” he says, “she’s had enough concussions to know exactly what they feel like.”
Reggie nods understandingly. “I feel you, man. Hey, let me get you my favorite ice pack!”
He scurries off to the fridge, and Willie sends the others a questioning look.
“Reggie’s… accident prone,” Alex says, and Luke snorts.
“That’s putting it mildly. The boy’s a walking disaster zone.”
Bobby nods in agreement and starts opening another bandage. “Last time we went on a date he not only managed to knock over our table, but he set the table next to ours on fire.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Reggie insists, handing Willie a dinosaur-shaped ice pack.
“We know you didn’t, Angel,” Alex assures him.
Willie’s heart starts to sink. “You’re dating?”
The band members go tense, except for Luke, who juts his jaw out at Willie.
“All four of us,” he says. “That a problem?”
“No no no of course not,” Willie rushes to correct him, although yeah, there’s a problem, and it’s that none of them are available. “We have three dads.”
“And a mom,” Carlos adds.
“Right,” Willie nods. “Before she passed.”
“Oh, man, I’m sorry,” Alex frowns.
It’s directed more at Willie than Carlos, so Willie shrugs and gives him a half smile. “I never met her. Pops and Papi met my Dad after she passed away.”
“Well,” Bobby says, smoothing a bandaid over the last cut on Willie’s legs, “I’m really glad they met, or else we wouldn’t have met you.” She places a kiss on top of the bandaid, and Willie gapes down at them in shock.
“Ugh,” Carlos groans. “Do I have to be here for this?”
“Geez, Bobbers, I think you broke her,” Alex says.
“Why don’t you kiss my cuts like that?” Luke pouts.
Before Willie can even begin to try to formulate a response—because how the fuck does one respond to that — the alarm on her phone goes off, startling all of them.
“Shit,” Willie hisses, scrambling to pull the phone from his pocket. “Our sisters’ set is about to start, we promised them we’d be there.”
She starts to stand up, but her vision starts to swim again and she plops back down, blinking rapidly.
“Woah,” Alex says, reaching out to steady them. “I don’t think you should be walking anywhere right now.”
“It’s just a couple blocks,” Willie insists, “I’m fine.”
“At least let us drive you home,” Luke says.
“Yeah,” Reggie agrees. “Someone’s gotta make sure you stay upright.”
“I have Carlos,” Willie says. “I don’t want you guys to miss any more of your set.”
“No offense,” Luke says, “but I don’t think Carlos can carry both those skateboards, let alone another human being.”
“Offense taken,” Carlos protests.
“Willie,” Bobby says firmly, but kindly. “We already told you. The set is just for fun. You’re more important.”
Willie doesn’t know why it warms his heart so much to hear that from people he just met, but it does. “Okay,” he relents, and the band members light up.
“I’ll get the keys,” Bobby grins.
Luke and Reggie help Willie to their feet, and the two of them lead him and Carlos out to their van. They settle Willie in the passenger seat, and then Alex, Reggie, Luke, and Carlos squish into the back.
“Hey Wils,” Carlos says as Luke wiggles around to let Carlos buckle his seatbelt. “Aren’t Dads always telling us not to get into vans with strangers?”
“They’re not strangers,” Willie reasons, “they’re neighbors.”
Carlos coughs and mutters something that vaguely sounds like simp.
“Trust me,” Bobby says, pulling the van onto the street, “these dolts don’t have enough brain cells to pull off a kidnapping.”
The other three protest loudly, and Willie chuckles. “Good, ‘cause our dads would wreak hell if we were ever kidnapped.”
Carlos snorts. “Dad and Pops would buy out the FBI to make sure we were found.”
“Geez, who are your dads?” Luke asks. “Mick Jagger and Steven Tyler?”
Carlos puffs out his chest proudly. “Caleb Covington and Trevor Wilson, actually.”
Bobby slams on the brakes and turns to gape at Willie. “Your dad is Trevor Wilson?” he asks with what seems with way too much excitement for someone who’s been more or less stoic since Willie met them.
“Uh, yeah?” Willie blinks.
“I’m his biggest fan,” Bobby gushes. “I learned how to play guitar from listening to his songs. I’ve been to every one of his LA shows. I wrote my college application essay about his first album. I—”
“Breathe, Stormcloud,” Alex cuts in.
Bobby sucks in a deep breath, then shoots a bashful look at Willie. “Sorry. You probably have to deal with that all the time.”
“Yeah,” Willie shrugs, “but I don’t mind it from you. It’s cute.”
Bobby’s face goes red, and she gapes at Willie until the car behind them honks, startling Bobby back into drive.
Willie directs them the rest of the way back to their house, and Bobby pulls up a few houses down since a crowd has already gathered to see their sisters and Flynn perform. Before they can get out of the car, Willie stops Bobby.
“My dads are going to be out there,” she says. “Are you going to be cool about it?”
“I’m cool,” Bobby says immediately. After a scoff from Alex, she amends, “I can be cool.”
“It’s Luke you should be worried about,” Reggie says. “He’s a Trevor Wilson fan and a Caleb Covington fan.”
“And he has no filter,” Alex adds.
Willie glances at the backseat, where Luke is, in fact, practically vibrating.
“I’m fine,” Luke promises. “It’s fine. I’ll be good.”
Alex throws Luke a skeptical look, but gets out of the van to assist Bobby in helping Willie out of the van. Carlos leads the band towards their house, and as soon as they step foot on the property line, all three dads descend upon them.
“Oh my god, what happened?” Trevor frets. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Willie says as they’re transferred from Alex and Bobby’s arms into Ray and Caleb’s. “Just a little accident. I got distracted.”
“Did you hit your head?” Caleb asks, running his hands over Willie’s scalp.
“A little bit,” Willie admits, pulling away from Caleb’s hands. “But I’m fine, Dad. I was wearing my helmet.” He nods at the Sunset Curve boys. “These guys fixed me up pretty well.”
“Thank you for bringing her back safe,” Ray says, sending a grateful smile at the band members.
Bobby and Luke are sort of frozen, staring in awe at Caleb and Trevor, so Alex offers Ray a charming grin. “It’s no problem, sir. They took a spill outside our house and we wanted to make sure he got home okay.”
“And hey, we made a new friend!” Reggie chirps. “I know you got hurt, but it was really nice to meet you, Willie!”
“Yeah,” Willie chuckles. “It was great to meet you guys too.”
“Why don’t we get you up to your room?” Trevor says, but Caleb shakes his head.
“I want to get her checked for a concussion.”
“Dad,” Willie groans. “I’m fine.”
“He did sort of hesitate when we asked her their name,” Luke says.
“That’s just because they don’t know how to talk to cute boys,” Carlos says.
Willie tries to elbow him, but misses once again.
“Yeah, okay,” Caleb sighs. “Get in the car.”
Willie sends a grateful look at the Sunset Curve boys as Caleb leads him away and towards their car. Carlos follows, and as soon as they’re out of ear shot Willie asks, “Carlos, was I hallucinating or did four cute boys just treat my wounds?”
Carlos nods solemnly. “They flirted with you too.“
“For the record,” Caleb says dryly, “I don’t think this is a good way to meet boys.”
“Well, it worked,” Willie shrugs.
Caleb shoves them lightly, an exasperated smile playing at his lips. “Come on, Romeo. Get in.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Apparently Willie does, in fact, have a concussion. It’s a minor one, though, so he gets away with one to two weeks of rest before he can skate again and a stern lecture from his doctor about how he has to be careful with his history of head injuries.
When she gets home, as is usual Molina-Wilson-Covington concussion protocol, Willie is smothered with affection and doted on until he falls asleep.
The next morning, they wake up to Carrie standing in the doorway of their room, arms crossed.
“Took you long enough,” she huffs when Willie finally startles awake. “I only called your name six times.”
“I’m concussed,” Willie argues.
“I don’t think you get to use that excuse anymore. You’re always concussed.”
“Whatever. What do you want?”
“There’s a boy band on the porch.” Carrie pauses, then adds, “Actually, they were on the porch. Then they heard Julie singing so now they’re in the studio harassing her and I need you to fix it.”
Willie groans, dropping their head back onto their pillow. “Why me?”
“They came here looking for you,” Carrie says. “They even brought you cookies.”
“They did?”
“They were delicious, too. Carlos and I had them for breakfast.”
“Did you save any for me?”
“If you have to ask, you already know the answer.”
That’s a no, then. Willie rolls out of bed and throws on a sweatshirt. He hip checks Carrie on the way out the door, then heads out to the studio, where he finds Alex, Luke, Reggie, and Bobby swarming around the piano and Julie swatting at them like they’re a flock of seagulls.
“I’m not going to sing for you!” Julie shouts. “I don’t even know who you are!”
“Please?” Luke begs, his eyes widening into adorable puppy dog eyes. “You’re amazing! You’re like a wrecking ball of talent!”
“He’s right, you know,” Willie chimes in, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Willie!” Reggie calls, causing Willie to wince at the volume. “Sorry,” Reggie whispers, a sheepish blush spreading across his face. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah,” Willie chuckles. “Turns out it was a concussion, but I’m fine. What are you guys doing here?”
“We wanted to check on you,” Alex says. “Also, to give you our numbers, since we didn’t really get to say goodbye yesterday.”
“Oh,” Willie grins. “Yeah, here, let me give you my phone.”
She passes her phone to Alex, who starts to put all four numbers in.
“So?” Julie asks while Alex does that. “Are you going to introduce us?”
“Right,” Willie says. “Jules, this is Alex, Luke, Reggie, and Bobby. They live down the street. Guys, this is my sister Julie.”
“It’s great to meet you,” Bobby says, giving Julie a polite smile.
“Yeah!” Luke agrees. “You’ve got a killer voice! You should join our band!”
Julie shoots Willie a questioning look. “Wils, where did you find these guys?”
Willie just shrugs. “PorchFest.”
Alex hands Willie’s phone back, open to a group chat with all four Sunset Curve members. The title is just a red heart emoji, and Willie looks up at Alex in surprise.
“We, uh, we kinda had something else we wanted to ask you,” Alex says. “We were—”
“Wait!” Reggie says. “We said I could ask her!”
“No, it was me,” Luke says.
“I won the coin flip,” Bobby interjects.
“But I won rock paper scissors,” Reggie argues.
“Well I won the wrestling match,” Luke says.
“And I got their number,” Alex says. “And the agreement was, whoever got his number—”
“No,” Bobby cuts him off, “it was the coin flip—”
“The wrestling match—”
“Rock paper scissors—”
“Guys,” Willie cuts in with a laugh. “Just ask me.”
The four musicians glance at each other, then all at once blurt out, “Will you go out with us?”
Willie stares at them, eyes wide. She doesn’t know what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that.
“Damn, Wils,” Julie whistles. “You better say yes or I’m gonna have to date them.”
“You have a girlfriend,” Willie replies absentmindedly.
Julie waves him off. “I think she'd understand.”
“So… is that a yes?” Luke asks, looking like he’s trying not to appear too eager. It’s not working.
“Yes,” Willie says immediately. “Yes, absolutely yes.”
“Yes!” Reggie cries, pumping his fist in the air. “Okay, so I have like a billion date ideas, do you want to start out with one-on-one dates or group dates or maybe three at a time, ‘cuz I’ve got options for all of them.”
“Give them a second to process, Angel,” Alex chuckles.
“Reg is our resident date planner,” Luke explains.
“Let’s start with all of us,” Willie decides. “I want to get to know you guys.”
Reggie grins and starts to ramble off a list of date ideas. The others watch him fondly, and when they turn that fond gaze onto Willie, she has the distinct gut feeling that this is the start of something beautiful.