“You’re totally sleeping with him, aren’t you?” Lindsay asks with a grin. “You lucky bitch. We all took bets.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Bria, he’s hot, you’re hot, you were spending all this time together, and he has a bit of a reputation. Come on. It was only a matter of time. I can’t wait to tell—”
“Nobody. Linds, Syd, you guys can’t tell anyone. Morgan may have blown it, but no one else can find out. Seriously. It’s…we’re not…nothing is going on anymore anyway. It was one time and that was the end of it.”
“You’re a stronger woman than I am,” Syd comments.
We laugh and I tell them the most basic version of what’s been going on. I make sure to lay into the fact that he and I are over and there will be no weirdness. I can be professional as long as he’s not an asshole.
The next morning, I enter game mode from the minute I wake up. Everything my hot douche trainer has taught me for months comes down to this. We’re six games away from winning the championship and it all starts today.
I keep my headphones on, playing my running playlist to pump me up. Our first match is against Sierra College and they’re a tough team to beat. Still, I’m confident we can kick their asses.
I avoid Tatum for as long as I can. He helps the team warm up and run drills before the game. It’s when he gives us our pre-game speech that I’m finally affected.
“Ladies, I want to thank you for this season. No matter what happens today, I want you to know I learned a lot this year. I had a rough year with being off my team, but I’m glad I got to spend it with all of you.” He makes eye contact with me as he says the last word and I look down. His words feel like a nail in my heart. “You’ve all learned a lot this season. There are some things I wish I could’ve done better or differently. At the end of the day, no matter how I got here, I’m glad I had this experience with all of you.” He looks at each of us before swallowing thickly. “Now go out there and kick some ass. You got this today.” On the count of three—one, two, three!”
“PVU!”
We take our places on the field. Since we won the coin toss, I stand next to Lindsay in the center of the midline. When the whistle blows, she taps the ball to my feet and I charge down the field. I navigate around the strikers with ease. When I hit the midfielders, I search for an opening to pass the ball.
Morgan runs up from behind me and finds a path in the center. I kick the ball to her and she traps it before transitioning the ball to Lindsay. Linds runs down the field, getting to the last line of defense for Sierra.
She kicks the ball wide, but that’s her intention. She overshoots, hitting wide right where I slide into the pocket. I jump and head the ball right into the goal before the goalie is even aware I’m there.
If this is how we start the game, this is going to be easy.
The first forty-five minutes pass in a blur. We manage to score two more goals and our challengers sneak in one. We’re only up by two which is too close for comfort in my book.
We walk off the field at halftime and as circle up and drink our water, Tatum comes to join us.
“Bria, great job finding the open pockets. You’re quick and they don’t see you coming. You and Lindsay work like a dream team together.”
“Morgan, you finish the triangle. When the three of you work together, you’re undefeatable. Keep doing what you’re doing out there. It’s paying off.” Paxton pats the three of us on our backs and we walk away arm in arm.
“We got this, guys,” I tell them. “We’re the dream team.”
When halftime is up, we take the field once more. The half starts in almost the same way the first half started. We manage to take control of the ball and make our way down the field. Lindsay shoots and I head it, but I hit the crossbar and the goalie snags the ball.
She punts it down the field and the mistake helps SU infiltrate our defense. What pisses me off most, though, is how they manage to score. We’re only up by one now and I’m getting antsy. We can’t lose this game. We can’t end the season like this.
Taking control of the ball, I charge the field. Number three slide tackles me and I don’t see it coming. I go flying, landing hard on the ground. With a grunt, I stand and I’m glad when she gets carded.
I set up for a direct kick and wait for the ref to blow the whistle. The girls creating the wall have their arms crossed over their chests and are jumping to block the kick.
The whistle blows and I shoot. I’m able to find Morgan in the crowd and she sends the ball sailing into the net. I run up and hug her and the rest of the team gathers and gives her high fives.
There are only twenty minutes left in the half, which is plenty of time to fuck it up. We can’t slack off now.
We manage to maintain the ball and at the very least, we play keep away. I’m okay not making any more goals as long as the other team doesn’t either.
With the clock winding down, the other team gets aggressive. They want to win as bad as we do, but I’m not happy about their method. I get it; I’ve been there, but it sucks being the target.
As soon as I get possession of the ball, another player comes out of the woodwork and takes me out. She shoulder checks me as if I’m a boulder she wants to move. My ankle locks in place and I fall the opposite way. I cry out and the ref blows the whistle and gives the girl a card. I don’t know what happens to her; I’m too busy cradling my ankle.
Tatum runs onto the field and my team takes a knee. I manually move my foot, testing my ankle to determine how bad it is.
“How’s it feel?” Tatum grips my cleat in his hand and rotates the joint.
“Fine,” I grit out.
“Come on. You’re done for the game.”
“Coach, I’m fine.”
“There’s five minutes left. I don’t need you getting any more hurt. We’ll ice it and wrap it so you can play the next game. Don’t fight me on this. You’re not going to win this one.”
“I didn’t realize I won any of them.”
He gives me a look I can’t decipher and I roll my eyes before he stands and offers me a hand to help me up. I ignore it and push off the ground, limping across the field. Tatum tries to help me, to let me use him as a crutch, but I refuse. I don’t want any help from him anymore.
Within the last few minutes, SU scores and I scream on the sidelines. We’re still winning, but I don’t like having them score.
I count the seconds down out loud as the clock runs out and we pull away with the victory. The team celebrates and I join in the best I can. I line up to shake hands with the other team, walking with a crutch the trainer supplied me.
The two girls who hit me, number three and number twelve, both ignore my handshake and I’m convinced one of them tries to trip me again. Couple of jealous bitches they are.
When I hobble back to the bench, I notice Morgan and Tatum talking. I’m afraid of what she’s saying to him, since she knows everything about us. She doesn’t look pissed since she’s laughing and looking up at him like he hung the moon. I don’t know what game she’s playing, but I need to ask her as soon as possible.
He looks very upset which makes me uneasy. I shoot daggers into her back and when she turns around she gives me an evil smile. Whatever she did must be part of some grand scheme she’s concocted. I need to shut it down as soon as possible.