Page 52 of Rumor Has It

BECKY

One week. She would be rooming with Wren for a whole week. Becky could do this. She could try to get them back to their tentative friendship. It would be so much harder to do now that they had spent a night together… And then spent the following week almost entirely radio silent. Maybe it would be easier now that all of the marks Wren had left on Becky’s neck and chest had faded, leaving her with no proof of their night together other than a few broken picture frames hanging in her hallway.

She couldn’t think about that now. They had a game to win. She pushed open the locker room door and the National Team immediately broke into a chorus of “ooooh’s.” A sinking feeling settled in the pit of Becky’s stomach.

“Coaches want you in their office,” Courtney said, without so much as a hello or a smile.

That made sense. Courtney was the captain for Riptide. She was probably not Becky’s biggest fan right now, given their last matchup against each other. Becky’s eyes did a quick pass over the locker room, but Wren wasn’t there. All of her worst fears barreled into her heart and mind at the same time. Did the coaches somehow know about their night together? How would they have found out? Had Courtney caught Wren sneaking back into her hotel room? Were they about to get kicked off the team?

Becky didn’t even bother setting her bags down. She pushed into the coaches office overloaded with her shit and was greeted by a very pissed off looking Coach Jameson, an annoyed looking Coach T, and Wren’s back. A TV monitor was turned on with their last game pulled up. Becky relaxed by a fraction of an inch. Being in trouble for playing too rough was by far a better outcome than being in trouble for sleeping with her teammate. Sure, it might result in Becky being dismissed, but hopefully not Wren.

“Rothschild, thanks for joining us,” Coach Jameson said, though he did not sound happy in the slightest. “Take a seat.” He gestured to the open chair next to Wren.

Becky’s heart stopped when she saw yet another magazine cover with her face on it. The headline read, “Trouble in Paradise?” She thought the highlight reel their coach had all queued up was scary. That magazine had Becky actually nauseous.

Wren looked terrified. That was the only way to put it. Becky wanted to pull her into a hug, but that didn’t seem entirely appropriate. So, she dropped her duffle bag next to her rolling suitcase, shrugged out of her backpack, and did as her Coach had instructed.

Without saying anything else, he pressed play on the video. The next seven minutes felt like Becky was forced to watch her own worst nightmare play out over and over again. She flinched every time she and Wren clashed together on the screen. Especially the slide-tackle at the end. Becky couldn’t even watch it. She kept her face pointed at the screen, but she let her eyes look to the left, not wanting to see Wren go down. Not wanting to see the look of horror on her own face.

When the video finally, mercifully, came to an end, she turned her attention to Coach Jameson. Coach T was sitting in a chair behind them, so Becky couldn’t even gauge her defensive coach’s reaction to the clips they all just had the displeasure of watching.

“I really thought you two had gotten to the point where you could behave better on a field together,” Coach Jameson said. His voice was eerily calm. Becky would have preferred it if he was yelling. He shook his head. “I thought you two had become genuine friends.”

Wren shrank in her seat. She hadn’t even started it. This was all Becky’s fault. Again. There was only so many times Becky could stomach saying that to the coaches.

“We are friends,” Becky said, softly. Though they hadn’t acted like it this week, she still wanted them to be friends. If they couldn’t be anything else, at least they could have that. “You won’t see it on this field, Coach. Never when we’re on the same team.”

Coach Jameson sat silently for a moment, marinating on Becky’s response. “Was there any permanent damage we need to know about? I’ve asked your club team trainers for injury reports, and they’ve not sent over anything other than a pretty severe turf rash.”

Wren flinched at that. “That’s all it was, sir.”

Becky shook her head. “No injuries from me, sir.”

“Well, that’s good. Coach T and I have talked it over. This trip to Sweden is too important. Do you need to be reassigned roommates?”

“No, sir. We’re fine. I apologized,” Becky said, truthfully.

Wren nodded. “She did. I apologized, too.”

They probably had more to apologize for after everything else that had happened, but as far as the coaches were concerned, everything soccer related had been squared away. In fairly unconventional methods, but they had both, hopefully, put everything that had happened in their club match behind them.

Coach Jameson took a deep breath before he jabbed at the magazine with a meaty finger. “Any comments on this?”

“We’re just teammates,” Wren said, her voice steady and unquestionable. “We can’t control the media.”

Becky felt like she was having an out of body experience, like she was watching an episode of her least favorite show. Just teammates should not have felt like a sucker punch, but it had. She knew that Wren was desperately trying to keep her spot on the team, but hearing herself reduced to just a teammate burned.

“No, you can’t control the media, but you can stop trying to kill each other on the pitch,” his voice was louder that time, not quite yelling, but like he was seriously considering it.

“I didn’t even do anything,” Wren was close to yelling herself.

“Do I need to rewind it so you can see where you pulled her hair?” Coach Jameson’s volume had at least leveled off.

Wren looked livid, and Becky couldn’t do anything but watch.

Coach T finally stepped in. “We’ve decided your punishment.”

The room was filled with an unnaturally heavy silence.