Chapter 11
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
WREN
“Hey, Eames,” Courtney Sinclair said, nodding her head in greeting as Wren started to unload her lucky duffle bag into her locker.
“Hey, Court.” They had seen each other a few days prior for their club team game. Courtney already knew all the drama that Andy had caused. Wren sighed. Andy had been insufferable over the past week while they sorted through all their stuff and tried to figure out what they were going to do.
In the end, they had agreed that Wren was going to keep their current lease but that Andy deserved two weeks to figure out where she was going to stay.
She had taken to sleeping on the couch—when she had even bothered coming home.
Their shared existence was stressful and had caused Wren to lose sleep and a few pounds.
She was more than a little happy to be out of there for a few days for the National Team’s next friendly. This time against Portugal. They were playing in Minnesota, and Wren was thanking any god she had ever heard of that they were entering spring and that it wasn’t negative seven degrees outside.
The locker room door opened and another group of their teammates entered, Rebecca among them. All the girls said their hellos and started doing the same thing Wren and Courtney were doing, unpacking their soccer gear into their lockers.
Wren couldn’t not look at Rebecca, though.
Rebecca looked just as exhausted as Wren felt.
They had texted a few times since their phone call, but Wren still didn’t know how that article had really impacted Rebecca.
She didn’t know if it had outed her. She didn’t know anything, and the worry had been eating at her.
She’d had a few days to process everything and to try and see the past six years from Rebecca’s perspective, and she had concluded that Rebecca probably just needed a really massive hug.
“Eames, Rothschild, coaches’ office. Now.” Coach T’s voice was sharp and crisp.
The team tittered and oohed, like they were two school girls who had been caught skipping class. Wren sighed and dropped her bag. Whatever this was, it was not going to be pleasant. Rebecca looked mortified.
“Sit,” Coach Jameson sounded, in a word, annoyed. The magazine from hell was face up on his desk. “Explain this. Now.” His meaty finger jabbed into the cover.
Wren sighed. She didn’t even know what to say.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to. Rebecca spoke before she had even figured out where to start.
“That is my fault,” Rebecca’s southern accent was thicker than it normally was, like she had flipped some southern charm switch that Wren had never been privy to.
Rebecca grabbed the magazine and flipped automatically to the pages that showed photo after photo of the two of them crossing the street, thankfully skipping over that photo of Wren.
“I was drunk. At the after party. I was drunk,” she said again, her voice a little more pleading.
“None of this is on Wren. She was kind enough to get me back to the hotel safely.”
Wren froze in her seat. Was Rebecca really taking the fall right now?
“Nothing is going on between us,” Rebecca continued.
“This article has caused a lot of problems for us both personally, but I cannot let it affect Wren professionally. She was being a good teammate. And a good friend. Which is exactly what you asked us to become. She’s done it.
I’ve been reluctant and stubborn, but she hasn’t. ”
Rebecca’s jaw tightened, but she carried on, her voice a little more desperate now, “I’m a serious lightweight and I mixed too many alcohols and I puked in the club bathroom.
Wren took me back to the hotel so I wouldn’t embarrass myself or the team.
” Rebecca nervously tapped at the article, her finger jabbing at the particularly intimate looking photo of Rebecca holding both of Wren’s hands.
“I was thanking her in this picture. My parents are fairly prominent members of a Southern Baptist church. If you were from a small southern town, you’d understand why I wouldn’t want the media to get any photos where I look visibly drunk.
That kind of thing can really linger for my family on Sundays.
I was thanking her for keeping me from embarrassing my parents.
And then… and now…” All the energy deflated from Rebecca with that.
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.