Page 53 of Rumor Has It

“You won’t be part of the team’s practice today. Four hours of conditioning for the both of you. Maybe puking together will help get that camaraderie back.”

To their credit, neither of them actually puked. Becky seriously considered it there for a second. One of their trainers, Craig, was a sadistic asshole who had them run the bleachers in the entire stadium—up one row and down another—for an hour straight. The craziest amendment to that task was that, at any point in time, he could yell “touch,” and if they were too far away from each other to be able to reach out and at least high-five, they both had to stop and give him ten burpees.

When it was finally over, Becky couldn’t feel her legs. She and Wren were the last two players on the field. So, Becky silently followed her into the locker room drenched in sweat and already in pain. When the locker room door shut, Wren limped to her locker and ripped the door open, the loud clang echoed in the empty room.

“I’m so sick of this,” Wren said, her voice low and cutting. Her back was still to Becky, but Becky could feel her frustration coming off her in waves. She could see it in the tension in her back, in the way her knuckles had gone pale around the edges of her locker’s door.

“Wren,” Becky whispered, nervously checking that the door from the locker room into the coaches’ office was fully closed.

When she looked back at Wren, she saw the other woman’s shoulders rise and fall with heavy, mildly concerning breaths. “My leg really, really burns,” Wren bit out. “Turns out sweat in an abrasion is fucking horrific.” Wren’s volume ticked up a notch.

Panic cut through Becky. They couldn’t do this here. Not when the coaches could hear them and determine their punishment hadn’t worked. Becky wasn’t entirely sure what Wren was ‘sick of,’ but she certainly did not want to find out where the coaches could potentially hear. She grabbed Wren’s wrist and started tugging her towards the showers.

“Let go of me,” Wren said, snatching her wrist away.

“Please shut up,” Becky said, desperately. She pointed at the coaches door and then towards the showers.

Wren sighed and trudged towards them, her running shoes making dull thudding sounds as they went, the soles echoing in the empty locker room. When she finally turned around to face Becky, Wren looked like she was about ready to cry. Becky didn’t exactly know what to do about that, but she could do her best to give them a modicum of privacy. She put her pointer finger to Wren’s lips.

“Just, wait a second,” she said, softly. She reached into one of the shower stalls and turned the water on. She pushed into a second stall and turned it on, too. “Okay, now go, but maybe keep your voice down. I don’t want to have to do this again tomorrow.”

Wren crossed her arms over her chest, the move made her look unsure in a way Becky had never seen from her before. “I’m so sick of almost being kicked off the team over shit you start.”

Becky didn’t really have an argument to make. That was fair. Honestly, all she had wanted to do was hug Wren from the second she saw her in the coaches’ office. She hated that Wren was this upset because of her again. Becky had really hoped that at some point they could just talk about everything. She had done a lot of reflecting with Katie, and she had been so hopeful that they could make it through this week without any more hiccups. That didn’t seem possible now.

“I know,” she said. “Me, too.” She hated how small she sounded. Where Wren was concerned, all of the fight had left Becky sometime around when Wren had kissed her for the first time in her entryway. All that was left in its place felt like heartbreak. “It won’t happen again.” Becky shrugged, defeated. “I’m just your teammate, right?” She asked, unable to keep the hurt out of her voice.

Wren looked like she had been slapped. “I tried to apologize for how I left—for the circumstances—and you shut me out, Rebecca. You ghosted me. Again.”

“You left,” Becky said, louder than she meant to. “You chose, Wren. You picked this.” She gestured around them at the now steaming showers. “What was I supposed to do this week?”

“I don’t know,” Wren said, her green eyes watering. “But everything fucking hurts. And it just feels like no matter what I do, I lose.”

God, Becky wanted to fix this. She wanted to tell Wren the truth, that if she’d been allowed to chose, she would have picked Wren a thousand times over. Instead, all she could say was, “I’m sorry.”

Wren looked defeated, blinking back her tears, but she nodded reluctantly. “I know. I’m sorry, too.”

Becky wanted to pull Wren into the world’s tightest hug. She wanted to kiss her and promise to never ghost her again, but she couldn’t. Wren had chosen and Becky had to respect that.

Wren looked back at the locker room and sighed. “I should go get my clothes so I can shower before we head back to the hotel.” Wren started to limp back towards their lockers.

“Wren,” Becky said, stopping Wren in her tracks.

“Just get in. I’ll get your clothes.”

Wren frowned at her, not responding.

“Come on. You’re in actual pain, and it’s my fault. So, don’t fight me on this. Just get in. I’ll set your clothes on the bench outside the curtain.” Becky stepped around Wren, careful to not make contact with her.

“Thanks,” Wren whispered as she slipped past.

Becky heard the stall door thud shut as she leaned her forehead against her own locker. Wren’s words looped through her mind on repeat. You ghosted me. Again. No matter what I do, I lose.

Wren had looked so sad, so hurt. It was all Becky could do to not break down in the middle of the locker room. She almost wished she had asked the coaches to give her a different travel buddy or that she had agreed to it when they offered. She hadn’t wanted to make anything worse, but it didn’t feel like sharing a room with Wren could possibly make anything better.

She heard the water pressure change and knew that Wren had probably gotten in by now. With some effort, she kept herself from thinking about how Wren might look taking a shower and instead focused on getting her clothes together and then moving to Wren’s locker to gather an outfit for her as well.

At this point, she’d seen Wren pack her team-issued soccer bag a few times and knew where her after-practice outfit would be stored. Somehow knowing such an innocuous detail about Wren left her heart burning even more.