Chapter Three #2
‘He met her at a Mutineers event,’ Shawny says, still keeping her voice low and checking no one is listening.
‘Five years ago. Asked her out and she turned him down, knowing it wasn’t permitted.
He’s been asking her out ever since. I heard two years ago she was gonna quit the squad, only Kathleen offered her the captaincy, and Hud Briar lost his mind. ’
‘That’s garbage,’ Angel says. ‘The man only wants what he can’t have. He’ll be getting some elsewhere. And I swear, they haven’t even been on a date yet and he spends his time professing his undying devotion.’
‘He’s been waiting for her for five years, hasn’t he?’ Shawny argues.
‘I think that’s sweet,’ I say. ‘Romantic.’
Angel shakes her head. ‘Until reality sets in and it turns out they’re just hot for one another, and it all fizzles out like water on a scorchin’ hot tin roof.’
Shawny looks between us. ‘Y’all see the hot new recruit? The number fourteen?’
‘Which one?’ Jewel shoots back. ‘You mean the running back, Ja—’
The door opens and Kathleen stalks into the room, followed by her assistant whose name I haven’t learned yet.
We all fall silent. I’ve only spoken to Kathleen on a handful of occasions, but each time she’s made an impression.
As a former cheerleader herself, she has high expectations.
I know the one thing I cannot do is let her down.
‘Okay, girls,’ she says, raising her voice the length of the room.
‘Does anybody have any questions before y’all sign your new contract? ’
My eyes dart back down, because I haven’t finished reading yet. I can’t stop going back to clause four – the one about not bringing the Mutineers brand into disrepute. Which is exactly what I will do if anybody finds out what I do in the late-night hours.
I skim read the remainder of my contract. Some of the girls further down the table are already signing.
‘You know there are the unwritten rules too, don’t y’all, ladies?’ Angel says to me and Jewel, picking up her pen.
‘What unwritten rules?’ I ask.
Shawny lowers her voice again. ‘Y’all know… the ones that say you can’t chew gum, you can’t wear sweatpants when you go out in public, you can’t drink, you can’t smoke, you most definitely cannot party…’
You can’t dance in a man’s lap for money, I think to myself.
‘At least there’s the no touching rule,’ Angel sighs as she signs her contract, and my stomach performs another somersault.
For a split second, I thought I’d voiced my thoughts out loud.
But it appears that, as CMC, members of the public can request a photograph, but they’re not allowed to touch any of us.
I reach for my pen and sign my name carefully. I look around, my heart beating fast. All the women in the room are smiling and congratulating one another in their uniforms. I do the same, and I hope they can’t see the fear in my eyes.
There is a ripple of applause. I fix my smile again. ‘Thank you, girls!’ Kathleen’s voice rings out. ‘Congratulations. Group photo time! Back out onto the field, please!’
We file out and Jewel grabs my arm. ‘Can you believe it? We’re official cheerleaders for the Mutineers!’
I squeal along with her, because why wouldn’t I? Yet deep down, I’m afraid. I’m scared that it could all unravel, and that I’ll get found out.
Outside on the field, we have group photographs taken.
About halfway through, I see a woman emerge from the tunnel.
Like Kathleen, she’s wearing a sharp suit, purple in color.
I recognize her from the news, and because, like me, even if you don’t follow football, everybody in this city knows who owns the Mutineers: the Conway family.
A ripple goes through the group as she comes closer into view.
Samantha Conway is the chief brand officer for the Mutineers.
It’s hard to tell her exact age due to the number of procedures she’s had, not that anybody would dare say that to her face.
Under the floodlights, when the photographs are over, she addresses us. Kathleen urges us to sit on the ground, and it feels a little like we’re second graders taking a seat on a mat in front of an elementary school teacher.
‘Girls,’ she says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
I note her well-manicured nails and immaculate makeup.
‘To the rookies, a warm welcome to the Mutineers family. To the veterans, we’re so glad to have y’all back.
You look wonderful, and it is my absolute pleasure to have y’all represent our exceptional brand out here on the field.
I cannot wait for the fans to come and see you perform on this turf for the first time as a new squad on Thursday night.
We’re so very excited. Now, as some of y’all know, my son, Brody, is marrying his sweetheart Mary-Martha Adams at the Canyon Country Club a week from Saturday.
As a way of thanking y’all for your hard work, we would be honored by your attendance. ’
Another ripple goes through the group. Kathleen starts to applaud loudly. I note Harmony is swift to do the same, and so, kinda like little baby cubs, we all follow.
‘The dress code,’ Samantha continues, ‘is demure. All dresses should fall below the knee, and absolutely no dress should be low cut. Now, I know y’all have worked hard today, so go change, go home, get your beauty sleep, and feel proud of yourselves for stepping into the Mutineers family.’
There is more applause, so I follow suit, and Kathleen and Samantha lapse into conversation while we get back on our feet.
‘Honored by your attendance,’ I hear Angel snort behind me under her breath. ‘What does that even mean anyway?’
‘It means, girl, you better haul ass to her son’s wedding ’cause you ain’t got no choice in the matter,’ Shawny adds. ‘Now you signed a contract, it’s our job to represent, whether you like it or not.’
Angel gives a low laugh, and I pretend like I’m not listening. ‘Prolly inviting us ’cause they couldn’t get anyone else to go. Now we finally get to see the poor female who snagged Brody Conway for a husband.’
‘How about his momma pays me a little more if she’s goin’ to make me attend her nepo-baby son’s wedding?’ Shawny muses, before I find Jewel is pulling me back toward our locker room.
‘You see?’ Jewel says after a moment, linking arms with me and walking me back across the field. She’s still buzzing from signing our contract, just like I should be. ‘Ain’t this just fantastic? Welcome to your new, improved life, Ren.’