Page 56 of Rumor Has It

Becky woke up cranky and groggy for the second morning in a row. Sharing a room but not a bed with Wren was a new form of hell. The way they were so carefully avoiding everything burned in a way Becky couldn’t explain.

She’d tried. Oh, how she’d tried. Just about every time Wren left the room, the first thing Becky did was call Katie. There wasn’t anything to be done other than lust after her roommate and feel all the more heartbroken knowing that Wren was stuck in the bed next to her doing the same exact thing.

Both nights, they’d watched sapphic movies in Becky’s bed with one of their laptops propped up on pillows between them. And both nights, when one of them started to doze off, they yanked metaphorical ripcords and quickly separated.

It was so ridiculous and exhausting.

She wanted to say something, to voice the feelings that were getting increasingly difficult to avoid. She wanted to be able to kiss Wren goodnight and good morning. But she was also viscerally aware of their contracts and the unfortunate fact that she’d done nothing but hurt Wren for the better part of the past six years.

The part of her that could bear to face her past behavior could also understand why Wren had run that morning a week ago. Why, if push came to shove, Wren would pick the team and her career. Becky had hardly given her a reason not to.

A long heavy sigh escaped her. It must have been loud enough to disturb Wren because unlike the morning before, Wren woke up. A low hum reverberated in the silence of the room. Goose bumps prickled everywhere on Becky’s body, all of her senses keenly attuned to the lower register of Wren’s voice.

“What time is it?” Wren murmured. Her voice was coated in the last dregs of sleep.

Becky wasn’t entirely sure. It had to be just after five, but she didn’t know how long she had been in bed, staring at the ceiling. She reached out and tapped her phone screen, determined to get Wren an answer. “Five-thirteen,” she said, immediately turning her phone screen back off.

Wren let out a pathetic little groan. “Too early.”

A small chuckle escaped Becky’s lips. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy,” she whispered. She couldn’t help herself. It was the truth, for one. And second, she was too tired to have a filter.

But Wren didn’t respond, and Becky knew that they were both just going to pretend she hadn’t heard it.

Later that morning the whole team filed onto their chartered plane for their first international friendly that year. Becky had never been on a charter plane. It was clear that some of the other players hadn’t either—notably, Wren.

“Do you want the window or the aisle seat?” Wren asked.

Part of their travel buddy duties were to sit next to each other for any and all travel, particularly when the coaches were watching, and oh, boy had they been watching. Becky shrugged, “I’m probably going to sleep for most of the trip anyway. Planes tend to knock me out. So, you pick.” She didn’t mention that she hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since they’d been back together.

Wren nodded. “Same. If you’re cool with it, though, I’ll take the window. I like to watch during takeoffs.”

“I really don’t mind. It’s all yours,” Becky said. She couldn’t help but smile at how excited Wren looked. “Here, give me your bags.” She put her own in their overhead bin, and then waited for Wren to hand over her carry-on.

Wren just grinned at her as she rolled over her suitcase and slid into their row. She had gotten her leg rest up, the window shade lifted, her headphones on, and her backpack stowed before Becky had even taken a seat. Becky chuckled, but absolutely did not comment on how cute Wren was when she was excited.

She just got herself as comfortable as possible and, thankfully, drifted off to sleep.

When the plane touched down in Sweden, she was jolted awake. At some point on their flight, a blanket had been carefully put on her, covering her up. And possibly connected to that, Wren had fallen asleep with her head on Becky’s shoulder because she was still out cold that way.

Adrenaline spiked through Becky then. Anyone and everyone could see them. They’d avoided falling asleep together in the privacy of their hotel room for the past two nights, but here, on a plane, in front of all their teammates—and worse, coaches—they’d fallen asleep more-or-less snuggling. Becky wanted to scream. In fact, she considered making a scene and pushing Wren off her, but she didn’t want to get them in trouble again.

Without making any sudden moves, she tried to take in every detail that she could, determined to assess just how bad the situation potentially was. First, and thankfully, all hands had been kept to themselves. Hers were very clearly crossed over her chest, and Wren’s were very clearly in her lap. They were sharing a blanket, which was admittedly a little suspect, but Becky didn’t know the origin of the blanket, so she couldn’t let herself panic about that. She was fully in her proper seat, so no matter what, none of this could come back to bite her, specifically, but she worried about Wren, too. Wren, who was still fast asleep on her shoulder.

As covertly as possible, she glanced around the plane to see if any of the other travel buddies had their heads on their teammates shoulders, but for the most part, she couldn’t see anything. That was a massive relief. That meant that other people probably couldn’t see anything either.

She nudged Wren with her shoulder as gently as possible. In an ideal world, she would have woken her up with soft words or by tucking her hair back behind her ear, but this wasn’t the time, nor the place.

Wren startled at the sudden movement. She blinked, several times. Her emerald eyes dazzling even in the low plane lighting.

“We landed,” Becky whispered.

Wren just nodded and lifted the window shade, seemingly unbothered by the fact that she had just woken up on a plane full of their teammates with her head on Becky’s shoulder.

That was just fine. Becky could hyperventilate about it for the both of them.

At their team dinner, Wren slid into the seat next to Becky, looking exhausted. “Sleeping on planes is the worst,” she mumbled. “My neck is wrecked.”

“At least after this we get to go back to the hotel,” Becky whispered back.