Page 84 of Rumor Has It

Wren coughed out a laugh. “That’s no way to talk to your girlfriend,” she teased, jogging unnecessarily to a spot about five yards away. Becky tried to judge the angle to see if she’d need to move with her. Begrudgingly, she tracked with her.

“I’m just trying to stay out of jersey pulling range,” Wren said, easily.

“You know, I think I get too much shit for how I play against you. You might deserve it,” Becky huffed out as Wren jogged back to exactly where they had just been standing.

The most annoying thing was that Becky was in phenomenal shape. She had run a marathon during college with no additional training prior to it just to see if her soccer conditioning would be enough, and it had been. She and some of her teammates from college had done a few half marathons just to get the medals that came with them, but covering Wren was different. Wren would move, stop, move, stop, sprint somewhere suddenly, and never give Becky time to find a rhythm.

Just as she was about to make another snarky comment to her girlfriend, the ball got sent over their heads and a footrace was on. Becky, instead of even trying to go for the ball, routed herself between where the ball was going and the goal she was defending. She’d never beat Wren to the ball, but she could be prepared to take it from her the second she’d wrangled control.

Only Wren fully expected that, and with one touch, she sent the ball over Becky’s head. Just a simple chip pass to herself. Becky tried to spin, but it was hopeless. Historically, Becky would have just taken Wren out as a result. She would have taken a yellow card to halt the play. But she couldn’t anymore. She wouldn’t. She did her best to close off the angle, listening for her keeper’s or another teammate’s instructions, but they never came. With another touch, Wren had gotten the jump on Becky’s goalie and slotted the ball perfectly into the back of the net.

Becky’s jaw clenched as Wren celebrated with her team. She thought she might be sick. Could she have done anything to stop that from happening? Clean or otherwise? She was going to be rewatching that for weeks to come, obsessing over every single breakdown. She couldn’t let it happen again.

Her team captain, Amy, jogged over to her. “Hey, you’re okay,” she said easily, forcing herself into Becky’s line of sight. “I know that probably pissed you off, but there was nothing you could have done. Okay? We just need our offense to do their thing.” She grabbed Becky’s shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Don’t pick up a card just because you’re pissed.” She made a face that looked a bit like a mom might give their kid. “I mean it. Shake it off.”

Becky nodded. Amy was right. A card wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t help her team, and it wouldn’t help her relationship. Wren had outplayed her on a run and capitalized. Becky just had to cleanly do her best to keep it from happening again. Thankfully, just before halftime, one of her forwards made a stunning shot from way outside the box, and they ended the half tied at one.

Wren grinned at her early in the second half. NC Cougars were dominating the possession, leaving Wren bouncing around the center line with what appeared to be way too much energy.

“I love you, too,” Wren said, finally coming to a stop when the ball had gotten kicked out of bounds.

“What?” Becky asked, not turning to look at her girlfriend.

Wren let out an easy laugh. “I read your texts at halftime. I love you, too.” She bumped her shoulder into Becky’s playfully. “Thanks for not dump-tackling me in the first half.”

“Yeah, well, the game’s not over yet,” Becky muttered, adjusting her angle between Wren and the goal, tracking the ball the entire time.

The game ended tied one-to-one. Becky had stayed so laser-focused, she’d managed to keep Wren from doing anything even remotely productive for her team in the second half. And while Becky wasn’t a fan of tying, she’d take it over a loss—especially after Wren had gotten the jump on her. Her coaches all seemed pleased with the outcome. Amy had even gone out of her way to tell Becky what a good job she had done in the second half. And for the first time in six years, Becky played a completely clean game against Wren.

Her coaches dismissed them. Some of the players headed straight for the locker rooms. Some of the other, more well-known players grabbed some Sharpies and headed towards the fans. But for Becky, now came the terrifying part. Somewhere in the stadium, likely making their way down to the railing, was Wren’s family and Molly. Becky scanned the pitch, looking for Wren.

Becky spotted her across the field. She took a second to redo her ponytail, wanting to make a good impression. Technically, she’d met Mr. Eames once, all those years ago, but she hadn’t met him as Wren’s girlfriend. It was likely that Barbara had spent the entire game giving Mr. Eames, Linda, and Molly the full rundown of the past two days. Barbara seemed to like her, but Becky had never been in a relationship that had meant enough that her partner had wanted to introduce her to their family. On top of that, Wren’s family was her world, and Becky wanted them to like her.

“Good game out there,” Courtney Sinclair said, stopping by Becky’s team bench to shake her hand.

Becky made a noncommittal noise of agreement. “Thanks,” she finally said.

“No. Thank you for not drop-kicking my teammate,” Courtney teased. “Also, I just wanted to come over here and congratulate you.” She smiled warmly at Becky. “I know you two are in a stressful spot right now, but I am happy for you.”

Becky hadn’t exactly gotten close with Courtney this year, seeing as Courtney was a forward and not on Becky’s club team. But this was just further proof that Courtney was a great team captain and that Becky was lucky to have her. A wide smile split across Becky’s face. “Thank you,” she said, not bothering to hide her excitement.

“It’s about damn time,” Courtney pulled her into a half hug. “Alright. I’m going to go sign some autographs. You coming?”

Becky bit her bottom lip and nodded towards Wren. “There are um, some people I’m supposed to go meet.”

Courtney’s eyes widened. “Damn. Lesbians really do move fast.’

“Aren’t you also a lesbian?” Becky asked with a laugh.

“Yeah,” Courtney let out a chuckle and shook her head. “Well, go have fun. She’s got a cooldown practice tomorrow at noon. Don’t make her late.”

Becky rolled her eyes. “Aye, aye, Captain,” she said.

Nervously, she took that as her cue to jog across the field carrying her warm-up jacket and a marker.

Wren beamed at her the second she saw her.

“Hey,” Becky said, feeling the full weight of her nerves.