Chapter 30
CHAPTER
THIRTY
BECKY
Becky got the messages late. She’d taken their early arrival as a chance to try and meditate and recuperate as much of her game-day routine as she could.
The rough start to their day had her all sorts of thrown off.
She hadn’t even looked at her phone until right before their game so she could read her good luck texts from Katie, but the texts from Wren made her smile.
Becky Rothschild (5:37 PM): Good luck to you, too.
Becky Rothschild (5:37 PM): You can fill me in on your talk with Courtney after my team is done kicking your team’s ass.
Becky Rothschild (5:37 PM): I promise to play nice though
Becky Rothschild (5:38 PM):Also, for the record, I love you.
Becky stared at her phone screen. There was a really good chance Wren wouldn’t see her responses until after the game, but that didn’t bother Becky.
Wren knew her well enough by now to know her routine.
She knew Wren well enough to know hers. And that thought warmed Becky from the inside out. Her girlfriend.
She’d caught a few glimpses of Wren during their warmups since they were just on the other half of the pitch.
One time she even caught Wren staring at her ass.
That had made them both have to hide their laughter.
Her routine that morning had been absolutely shattered.
Both she and Wren had already had the worst kind of adrenaline spike twice that day.
Becky didn’t have the highest of hopes going into the game.
All she knew was that no matter what, she was going to play a clean game.
She wasn’t going to give the media anything else to say about her, especially not with regards to Wren.
Wren was being intentionally distracting and obnoxiously busy on the pitch.
Normally, she conserved her energy and dispersed it all in short bursts and one-off runs, but today she was moving constantly.
Becky, more than probably anyone else in the world, knew that that wasn’t normal.
She also knew that if she kept moving to track Wren, it was going to wear her out by the end of the first half.
“You little shit,” she muttered to Wren as she shifted her positioning again. At first she thought Wren might just be trying to work off some of her leftover anxiety from this morning, but the longer the half wore on, the more apparent it became that she was just doing it to exhaust Becky.
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.
“Hey,” Wren said, her smile impossibly widening. “You uhhhh, you want to meet some people?”
“Do I look okay?” Becky asked.
Wren just laughed. “Rebecca, you just played ninety minutes of soccer. You look amazing.”
Becky blushed. “Okay,” she let out an awkward little laugh. “Okay,” she said again. “I can do this.”
“You can,” Wren said, confidently. “But um, before you do, can we trade jerseys?”
Becky frowned. “What?”
“Like I give you this one and I take the one you’re wearing.” Wren’s hopeful smile made Becky’s heart race.
Wren didn’t look like she had just played ninety minutes of soccer. Sure, she was sweaty, but she just had a glow about her. Like all the weight of the past few months had finally lifted off her shoulders. She looked so happy it was infectious.
Becky’s eyes watered. It was such a kind gesture. She also felt certain that there were dozens of cameras on them at that moment. So, she took a deep breath and did her best to control her emotions. “Can I meet your family before I take my shirt off?”
Wren cracked up at that. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
“I will trade you though. I would be honored,” Becky meant it. She would be honored to have one of Wren’s jerseys. From their inaugural season in the PWSL and more importantly, from their first game as girlfriends.
“Okay. Let’s go say hi.” Wren nodded towards the crowd.
There, up along the railing, Becky spotted Barbara.
The woman beside her looked just like her, and next to them was definitely Mr. Eames.
He looked the same as he had all those years ago—happy and proud.
There was another woman with them that was definitely Molly.
She had grown up, but she was the girl from the photos, the one who had unknowingly and unintentionally broken Becky’s heart.
Becky took a deep breath and wiped her palms on her shorts. She waved nervously as she followed close behind Wren.
“Dad, Linda, Molly, I wanted to introduce you to Rebecca,” Wren said, practically bouncing. After their livestream earlier today, their little secret—if it had ever really been a secret—was fully out. So, Wren confident and loudly added, “my girlfriend.”
Wren’s dad smiled down at them both. “It was a great game today. I was proud of you both,” he said, his voice deep and easy.
Becky’s heart clenched in her chest. He felt proud of them both.
It was radiating off him. She could tell how proud he was of Wren—no matter what—but to hear that he was proud of her, too.
Becky hadn’t had that kind of parental support since high school, and even then she hadn’t so much felt like her parents meant it, more just that’s what you told your kids after they won a game.
Great game. We’re proud of you. But when Mr. Eames said it, it was clear that he meant it.
“Thanks,” Becky said, more than a little overwhelmed.
Mr. Eames just smiled at her, clearly missing the moment Becky was having. “Of course,” he said easily. “You had a really good match on Sunday, too. You ate that girl from Utah up.”
Becky frowned, confused. “Wait. You watched my match on Sunday?”
A deep laugh rumbled out of Mr. Eames. “Yeah. Ever since Wren mentioned you were her travel buddy, I kind of… well, I might have guessed this little introduction would happen sooner or later. I’ve watched your whole season, just in case.”
His blush matched Wren’s identically. “Dad, what the hell?” Wren all but yelled in disbelief.
Her dad just shrugged. “I don’t want the details,” he held his hands up and let out another little laugh, “but welcome to the family, Becky.”