Page 31 of Rumor Has It

Wren’s pulse spiked with worry. “Are you okay?” She asked so softly. Her voice filled with too much concern. She was worried that Rebecca would have to go on another defense campaign for the two of them.

Rebecca just shrugged, clearly not wanting to answer here.

Coach Jameson slammed his palm on his desk, causing everyone to jump. “Look. We added that fraternization clause to the contracts for a reason. It’s crap like this,” he stabbed at the article with his pointer finger, “that gives women’s sports a bad rap.” He took a deep breath, clearly not done. “You two have only been on the team for a month and have already had two magazine spreads, and neither of them have been a good look—for the team or for women’s sports. We were trying to generate a positive buzz on women’s soccer. I’m not letting this team’s hard work be ignored so the two of you can drag them all down with this constant media trash.”

“It’s my fault,” Rebecca whispered. “I started it the first time. I flicked her off. And this time I was the one who was drunk.”

Wren shook her head. “My ex is the one who made the media even care who I was. Not you. Okay? I’m not just going to let you take all the heat on this. If she hadn’t posted”— Wren gripped the armrest of her seat. She was still not okay with the fact that Andy had posted what she had. She was also still livid that Andy hadn’t taken it down. And now it was in print. She shook her head and forced herself to continue. She wasn’t going to let this all fall on Rebecca’s shoulders. “If she hadn’t come out so… publicly, the media wouldn’t have cared at all about my dating life. Alright? So, it’s not all you.”

Coach T hummed. “Would you look at that, Jameson? They are teammates. Our punishment worked.”

Coach Jameson nodded. “Well, that’s a win. Look, I know you can’t control your ex, but I need the two of you to keep this horseshit to a minimum. I’m setting up an interview for the team to talk about soccer. Not the drama between the two of you. Got it?”

Wren and Rebecca both nodded. “Yes, sir,” Wren added.

“Rothschild,” Coach T said, “You’re not starting in the game this week.” She pointed at the article. “Your teammate shouldn’t have to practically carry you out of a bar. I get it. It was the after party, but it was still technically a work event. You were still on a trip with the team. I need you to conduct yourself better in the future if you want to stay on my defensive line.”

Wren’s eyes snapped to Rebecca’s profile. She watched as Rebecca swallowed back her emotions and nodded. “Yes, Coach. I understand.”

“Good. You’re both dismissed,” Coach Jameson said, ending the conversation.

Rebecca really seemed frozen in her seat, so Wren offered an awkward smile to their two coaches and gently tugged Rebecca out of her seat and dragged her back into the locker room. The whole team watched them as Wren gently, but firmly, pushed Rebecca all the way back to her locker.

“Which bags do you need for the hotel?” Wren’s voice was soft and quiet. No one would be able to hear her, and most of the team had taken the hint to mind their own business. “Rebecca?” Wren asked, finally getting Rebecca’s attention.

“Oh.” Rebecca shook her head. Her eyes shot back to the coaches’ office like she might storm back in there. Wren kept a firm grip on her elbow, just in case. “Just this one and the backpack.”

Wren nodded. “Got it.” She shoved Rebecca’s duffle bag into her locker and shut the metal door. “Unload it tomorrow.” She kept her grip on Rebecca’s arm, not necessarily dragging anymore, but still leading as she crossed the room to her own locker.

She tossed her lucky duffle bag inside and shut that door, too. “Come on, Rebecca. We’re not making a scene. Not today,” she whispered it into Rebecca’s ear. There was no teasing to her voice. She meant it. Wren was on one mission and that was to get Rebecca to their hotel room without pissing their coaches off any further.

Wren turned her attention to Sinclair. “Hey, Captain. Are we good to head back to the hotel?”

The National Team still hadn’t announced their final selection of captain yet. All of the old timers were getting a chance to wear the armband before the World Cup, but Courtney was Riptide’s captain and Wren already thought of her as such. She was who the team looked to for leadership, now included.

Courtney nodded. “She good?” Her attention turned to Rebecca.

Wren shrugged. “I think we’ve both had a pretty shit week to be honest with you, Cap. We’ll both be ready to go tomorrow for practice. Promise.”

“Then yeah, get her out of here,” Courtney dismissed them.

If the team had more giggles and whispers about the two of them, they waited until Wren had gotten them both out of the room.

“She benched me,” Rebecca muttered as they waited just outside the arena for their Lyft to come pick them up. They weren’t riding back with the team, so they were unfortunately on their own.

“It’s just one game,” Wren said, doing her best to sound soothing. “It’s kind of shit though. I don’t think you did anything wrong. We heard all about it the next day. Half the team was so drunk they almost couldn’t walk back to the hotel.”

“Do you think she hates me?” Rebecca looked genuinely concerned. So, Wren chose not to laugh at her question.

She shrugged instead. “I really don’t think so or she’d have kicked you off the team. I think she’s just annoyed about the article. Are you okay, by the way?” Wren looked at Rebecca then, really looked at her. She looked more than tired. She looked devastated.

“It did out me to my parents,” Rebecca said with a tragic sigh.

Wren’s eyes watered. “Rebecca, I’m so sorry.”

Before they could get into it any farther, their Lyft pulled up. The driver popped the trunk for them. Wren just nudged Rebecca towards the back seat and rolled both of their bags around to the back, helping the driver get their luggage situated.

The poor driver tried his best to diffuse the weird tension between them as he drove through the Twin Cities, and Wren did her best to keep him engaged on anything that wasn’t the two of them. The result was just clunky and awkward. She didn’t know what to say. Rebecca was very clearly trying to not fall apart in the seat next to her. And she couldn’t exactly comfort her right now, not when their coaches had just told them to lay low. Not when the driver might somehow recognize them.