Page 49 of Mutual Discord

“Caitlin?” Alex blinked. And then blinked again. “I hadn’t—”

The music abruptly shifted in volume and tone, and the lights in the arena went out. Cast in sudden darkness, fans clapped and whistled until a spotlight shone on the tunnel next to the players’ bench. One by one, the Scorpions players ran out to a remix of “Squabble Up” by Kendrick Lamar, and Alex and I stood to cheer each of their introductions. When Natasha was announced, she ran down the line of her teammates, slapping their hands, until she came to stand at the end of the line of players…not far from us. With an impish grin she waved at Alex and me and then proceeded to hold two fingers to her eyes in a V shape, extending them back and forth between her and Alex. I know what’s up, the gesture seemed to say, and even over the music I heard Alex groan.

I was still laughing when the music died down and we resumed our seats. Alex watched me from the corner of his eye, and although he tried to appear grumpy and unaffected, I spied the way his chin trembled over a laugh. We didn’t speak much after that, as the national anthem was sung and the game began, and we were soon swept up in the action on the court. I had been to a Scorpions game a time or two over the years, but this experience was different. Perhaps it was because we were sitting right behind the players’ bench or because Alex knew so many of the staff and fans, but the atmosphere was electric, just as he had said. Several moments found me dancing in my seat to the upbeat tunes keeping the crowd energized and jumping up to cheer when a player made a basket or great play.

Alex was the perfect person to watch the game with, too. Not only did he provide me with commentary about who was who on the court and what their particular talent was, but he was also truly passionate about the sport and the women playing it. I was inspired by not just their athleticism, but also their tenacity and drive. My phone remained in my hands because I kept opening my Notes app to record player names and ideas for future videos. I had heard it said numerous times that women’s sports didn’t receive the attention and coverage they deserved, and I’d always known that to be true. But standing in the arena during the game with eighteen thousand other screaming fans reiterated to me how grievous of an oversight that was. My channel may have been dedicated to shining a light on historical women who’d had their discoveries stolen from them, but it certainly didn’t mean I couldn’t branch out from there. Perhaps I could use my platform to showcase modern-day women who deserved flowers and had yet to receive them.

I was ripped from my thoughts when Natasha collided with a Pumas player as she was shooting a layup, and they both crashed to the court with a thud.

A fan several rows behind us suddenly shouted a racial slur and expletive before launching into a diatribe about bad players playing dirty to make up for their lack of talent. A chorus of laughter followed soon after.

Air whooshed from my lungs like I’d been punched.

Alex was on his feet in seconds, prowling up the arena stairs, staring intently at a group of fans near the back center of the section. Narrowing his gaze, he signaled for the security guards with a flick of his hand.

When they joined him, Alex pointed to the perpetrator and his friends. “Get them out of here.”

The group of fans protested loudly, but several security guards convinced them to leave their seats and follow them out of the arena, and their curses drew the attention of other fans in the area. But word must have spread of their deplorable behavior because soon the arena was cheering their departure, waving gleefully at their backs.

“You okay?” I asked when he returned to his seat.

Alex stared silently at the court for a minute before he scrubbed at his jaw. “Yeah. I just can’t stand how certain fans treat athletes. As if they’re just something to be consumed, and not living, breathing people.”

I hummed but said nothing.

“This sort of behavior has become a regularity within sports lately, and it’s absolutely disgusting. I refuse to ignore it.” He curled his hands into fists. “My team knows that if they hear something inappropriate, to report the culprit to security immediately. How could I do anything different?”

I swallowed hard. “I’m glad you said something.”

Inhaling deeply, Alex turned to look at me. He didn’t say anything, but his nod of acknowledgment spoke volumes.

When halftime rolled around, the Scorpions were up by five points over the Minnesota Pumas, and the crowd was still pulsing with excitement. I excused myself to quickly visit the ladies’ room, where I retouched my lipstick and fluffed my hair. My curls had tightened a bit with my cheering, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. With one last look in the mirror, I headed back to our seats, where I found Alex frantically typing on his phone.

“Everything okay?” I asked as I slid into my seat.

He nodded, flashing me a quick smile. “Yeah, just doing a quick search on the Scorpions hashtag to see if people are talking about the ejections.”

“Are they?”

“There’ve been a few posts from people seated nearby, but the reactions have been positive.”

Alex had just closed out of a social media app when I caught a glimpse of a text message flash on his screen. It was from Caitlin. My stomach dropped. He opened it, but all I saw was a paragraph of text before I glanced away. I certainly wasn’t privy to their personal conversations, and just thinking about what they might say to each other left me feeling nauseated. Which was why, when my own phone vibrated with a message, I was taken aback to see it was from Caitlin, too.

Caitlin: Hey, I’m in Miami on a layover before I get back to NY, so I thought I would check in. How’s it going?

What? Didn’t she know I was at the game with Alex? Wouldn’t he have told her that? My gaze slid to Alex, but he appeared to be completely unbothered as he read his emails.

Biting my lip, I typed back. Hey, I’m actually at the Scorpions game with Alex. I assumed he told you. It’s been a lot of fun, and it was really nice of him to invite me.

I focused on my screen for a long moment, awaiting Caitlin’s response, but it didn’t come. Maybe she was getting a coffee or something to eat and wasn’t gawking at her phone like a lunatic.

Tucking my phone into my bag, I peered at the crowd around us. People were eating hot dogs and nachos, cold glasses of beer or other cocktails in hand. Alex had asked if I wanted anything to drink, but I wasn’t about to ask him to spend thirty dollars on one mojito.

A new song began to pump through the arena, and I chuckled quietly as the entire crowd sucked air into their lungs at the same time to belt out the lyrics to “I Want It That Way” by the Backstreet Boys.

My eyes fixed on the towering screens above the court as a camera panned through the crowd, filming fans lip-syncing to the music. I sang along, laughing at people’s theatrics and enjoying the sense of playful camaraderie as the entire audience sang along. That is, until I noticed a camera stop at the end of our row, its lens trained on Alex.

Alex didn’t seem to notice it was there, his attention focused on his emails. I moved to nudge his arm, mindful that I could be seen on camera just beyond his shoulder, but the song’s bridge swelled at that moment and Alex lifted his head and turned to stare directly at the camera. Because of my position, his face wasn’t visible to me, but I glanced up quickly to the big screen, and the view had me gasping in shock.