by ME Carter
“You didn’t answer my question,” I say. “Did. You. Fuck her.”
“No,” he says without hesitation. I didn’t think he had, based on previous conversations, but I needed to be sure. Now that I’m sure, I relax.
“Did you?” I say, turning to Christian. He doesn’t answer right away, and his hesitation is all the answer I need. “Fuck.” I say and walk away. I make it five steps before I turn around. “How the hell am I supposed to deal with this, knowing that every time I see you, every time I’m around you, I’m with one of the guys who has been with her? How am I supposed to let that go? Do ye know how much I want to beat the shit out of you right now?”
“Try it, and I’ll take you down, Rookie.”
I continue to pace. “Ye know I went to her place yesterday. I was so pissed after I found that picture hanging all over the locker room.” I pause and clench my hands, trying to get myself under control. The thought of it still makes my blood boil. “I went to her place, and I fucked up so bad. I treated her like a fucking whore. She fucking kicked me out after… after I treated her like a fucking whore.”
“We’ve all been there,” Christian says. “People have angry sex all the time. It’s not a big deal. You guys will make up.”
“We didn’t have sex,” I say quietly. “We’ve never had sex.” I know my face is turning red. Everyone assumes guys like me, professional athletes, have sex regularly. Hell, it’s regular locker room conversation.
Christian finally says, “You don’t have sex with your girlfriend?”
“No, dickweed, I don’t have sex with my girlfriend. I don’t have sex at all. Never have.” They are frozen in disbelief. And then Christian snickers. “Don’t say a word, asshole,” I say, pointing in his face. “It’s not for lack of opportunity. It’s a choice. I made it a long time ago, and it takes more self-control than ye could find in your pinkie finger.”
He raises his hands in defense. “I’m not judging, man. That’s your thing. I just don’t think I have many friends who are virgins. Actually, I think you’re the only one.”
“Yeah, well.” I back off, resting my hands low on my hips. “It’s not something I advertise. I prefer to wait for my wife. At this point, I’ve waited long enough, so I might as well do it right.”
“How did you treat Tiffany like a whore then?” Daniel asks, making me heat up again. This time, though, it’s with shame and regret.
I rub the sweat off my face while I try to figure out how to explain. Part of me wants to keep what happened private. The other part is still trying to sort out my anger. That’s the part that finally wins.
“I was popping off about all those things Shivel said. And yelling at her about how much it sucks to know that all my teammates know… I mean, ye heard what Shivel was saying.” They both nod. “Somehow she ended up naked against the wall, and I found out some of those things for myself.”
“So you’re upset that you didn’t have more self-control?” Daniel asks.
“No. That’s not it. In the moment I was so determined to not be the only one who hadn’t seen the look on her face when she… I mean… god, this is an uncomfortable conversation.” I take a deep breath. “I was disrespectful toward her. She let me do these things to her when I was angry and saying terrible things. She just let me. When it was over, she told me the playing field was even, and I could go back to comparing notes with my friends.”
“Ooooh,” they say in unison. I was hoping they would say it wasn’t a big deal. That I was making it into something more than it is. Instead, they confirmed my fears.
“That is bad,” Daniel confirms. “But I get why you went off your rocker yesterday. You love her. It makes all of us crazy when we first figure that out. Look at me and Quincy. I ditched her and used Chance as an excuse. It takes a minute for guys to wrap our brains around it all.”
“You’re right,” I say, pacing again, a lightbulb having gone off in my brain. “You’re right. I love her. I love her. But that isn’t the hard part. This… I don’t know if I can handle all the rest of it.”
“Look, I get why you are pissed, okay?” Christian says. “Falling for a groupie was the dumbest thing you’ve probably ever done in your life.”
I snort a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah. Because I planned it.”
“I didn’t say you did. But here’s the thing: I didn’t sleep with your girl.”
I look at him quizzically. “You just said you did.”
“I fucked Tiffany the Tramp.”
Hearing that nickname, my blood pressure spikes again and I am immediately in his face. “Don’t you ever fucking call her that.”
He puts his hands up. “Relax, Rookie. I’m trying to make a point.”
I take a step back. “Make it quick.”
“Stay with me for a minute.” I nod, so he continues. “All those things Shivel was talking about—the birthmark and sounds and expressions and stuff—” I cringe but keep listening. “I didn’t know any of those things. Just like she doesn’t know any of those things about me. What she was in that situation was a warm body. A quick fuck, and that’s it.”
“You’re not helping.”
“Let him finish,” Daniel says.
“Tiffany, your girl Tiffany,” Christian says. “I knew she was a sports producer because Daniel texts her. But that’s it. I didn’t know she was accepted into Columbia to get her Masters in Sports Journalism. I didn’t know she was a huge fan of every sport out there, or that she and her mom saw Jason Hart get drafted.”
I look at the ground, arms crossed.
“Your girl Tiffany is a cool chick. You’re lucky to have her,” he says. “As for Tiffany the Tramp, that girl is history. The only memories I have of her are vague and not even something I think about.”
He walks up to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “That’s true of every single guy who has interacted with the groupies. No one is looking at her thinking ‘I bagged that.’ They’re thinking, ‘Rowen found a good one’.”
“Shivel doesn’t think that.”
“Shivel’s trying to get your goat because it’s the only thing he has that can sabotage your ability to keep your head in the game. He knows you are the biggest threat to his career.”
I think about what he said. He’s right. Tiffany isn’t the same girl I met in that room so many months ago. She’s more confident. More sure of herself. She holds herself with more respect.
Or at least she did, until I tore her down again.
“I really fucked up, man.”
“Yeah, you did,” Daniel says.
“So how do I fix it?”
“We can’t answer that. That’s something you have to figure out on your own. It’s like a rite of passage when you’re first starting a relationship.”
Fuck. I’m screwed.
The beat of drums is almost deafening, and there are more horns blaring than normal.
Usually the sounds, smells, and sights of the stadium invigorate me. The sea of red excites me. Gives me energy I feed off. Today it does nothing for me, which really pisses me off, because coming to see the Mutiny play has been a favorite pastime of mine for years. But Rowen ruined that when he used my body like it was a marker piece on the game board all his friends are playing on.
I haven’t talked to him in five days, despite his repeated calls and texts. I know he feels bad about our last interaction. I saw it on his face when I told him to leave. In the heat of the moment, he had no idea what an asshole he was being, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. It doesn’t change the way he made me feel. And how he made me feel is not okay. I made a decision a long time ago. My body is my own, but my feelings count for something, too. And that’s what I’m protecting right now.
That doesn’t mean I don’t miss him desperately, though, which pisses me off even more. I fell in love with Rowen Flanigan, and that makes this whole thing even worse. As much as I want to be mad at him, I’m not. I’m just hurt, and humiliated, and feel very, very used. The
irony is Rowen used to tell me his teammates were just using me, yet they aren’t the ones who made me feel like this.
“Oh look, the hooker is here.” Quincy and Geni slide into the seats next to me.
“What’s up, twatface?” I respond to Geni’s jab. I’m not sure when we started trading insults, but she gets a kick out of the different names I call her, so I keep doing it. In a really weird way, it has bridged the gap between us.
“Ooh! Twatface,” she says. “I like that one. Did you get a list of insults off the internet?”
I stare blankly at the field. “I actually came up with it on my own. I know it surprises a small-minded person like you that I can be both pretty and smart.”
“Why can’t you guys be nice to each other?” Quincy asks, sitting between us. She used to stay out of our banter, but lately she tries to play mediator. I don’t get why it’s important to her so I just stop talking. I’m not in the mood to be nice anyway.
I reach for my phone when it vibrates with a text message.
Can’t come to the game today. Have to work.
I breathe a sigh of relief that Sasha won’t be here. As much as I normally enjoy her company, I just can’t take listening to her babble about makeup and celebrity gossip. I’d rather sit here by myself.
The Mutiny takes the field for warmups. I immediately gravitate to Rowen’s carrot top. My heart stops briefly when I think he glances up at me, but I can’t be sure he was actually looking in this direction. He looks really good out there, as usual, but I can’t help feeling like he’s off. His aim is a couple inches too much to the left. His kick is too hard. His defensive moves are too aggressive.
“Tiffany.” Quincy’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts as I look over at her. “Geni’s getting drinks. Do you want something?”
“No thanks.” I’m stunned. Geni has never offered to get me something before.
“’Kay,” Geni says and bounces up out of her seat. “I’ll be right back. Don’t screw anyone I wouldn’t screw while I’m gone.” I know the comment is directed toward me, but Quincy is the one who answers with a roll of her eyes.
“We won’t.”
I get back to watching the teams warmup, willing Rowen to look at me again. He doesn’t, which makes me mad. And I’m mad that I’m mad, because I don’t want to care, but I do. I shouldn’t have even come. For the first time in my life, it’s not worth it to watch my favorite sport.
“How’s your head?” Quincy asks me.
“Fine. Annoying to wash and brush my hair, but fine.”
“Your lip looks good.”
“It healed pretty quickly,” I answer, not really in the mood to engage.
“You okay?” she says.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You’re usually on your feet, cheering for the guys even during warmups. But today you’re just sitting there, looking like you’d rather be anywhere else.”
I shift in my seat and clear my throat. “Just a lot on my mind.” We sit in silence watching venders try to sell popcorn and other snacks to the people around us.
“Daniel talked to Rowen about you.”
I whip my head around, immediately wishing I wasn’t so interested in what Rowen has to say.
“I wasn’t there for the conversation so I don’t know exactly what happened,” she says. “But apparently he tried to get in a fight with Christian.”
“He did what?” Rowen, the most even-keeled, gentle soul I’ve ever met, getting into fights with his teammates, is one of the most absurd things I’ve heard. But it’s happened twice in a week. “Why?”
“From what I can figure out, it had something to do with defending your honor.”
“Oh geez,” I say, dropping my head in defeat.
“Can you blame him? The whole thing in the locker room really shook him up.”
I cringe. “You know about that too?” She nods. “Is there anything Daniel doesn’t tell you?”
She shrugs. “He’s the captain of the team. That carries a lot of weight and responsibility. He tells me a lot of things, especially when he’s worried about one of his teammates.”
“And you think he’s worried about Rowen?”
“Very much so. From what Daniel says, Rowen has been distracted for days. More aggressive than normal. Just… off.” He’s really upset about the way he treated you.”
I groan. “Ohmygod, why is he telling people about it?”
“I don’t think he’s telling people. Daniel caught him in a weak moment, and Rowen finally fessed up to how guilty he feels.”
“Good. He was a total asshole to me. Call me what you want, but don’t tell me how important or special I am, or how my past doesn’t bother you, if you’re gonna turn around and treat me like a whore. No one else on the team ever made me feel that way.” I blush. I never expected to have this conversation with Quincy. It’s not a conversation I wanted to have with anyone, but now that I’m being confronted with it, I can’t seem to shut up. “He freaked out over a stupid picture. Yeah, it sucks that it happened. Yeah, it’s fucking humiliating that someone I thought was a friend would betray me like that. But Rowen was completely out of control.”
“Can you blame him?” she asks, stopping my rant. “Think about it. Last time you were here, you were attacked by a teammate’s wife. Then he walks into the locker room a few days later to see naked pictures of you plastered all over the walls and that asshole Mack talking shit about you. And it’s not the first time he’s talked trash about you in front of Rowen. He uses your past against him all the time. Tiffany,” she says, turning to face me, “Rowen loves you. Like really loves you. He wants to protect you and shelter you because you’re precious to him. Instead, he’s dealing with some really heavy stuff because of the choices you’ve made. That’s not to say those choices are good or bad. It’s just the truth of what he’s dealing with.”
“That’s not an excuse,” I say. “He knew about it when we started dating. He asked me out anyway. If he didn’t like it, he shouldn’t have pursued me. It’s not like he’s the first guy to date a woman who has a sexual history.”
“Yeah, but most guys don’t have that history shoved in their faces every single time they go to work. And it’s a thousand times worse because he’s a virgin and sex is a big deal to him.”
“Is nothing private with him?” I throw my hands up.
Quincy smiles. “So he’s not ashamed of his virginity. I think it’s really nice he’s saving himself for his wife.”
“Whatever. It doesn’t even matter anymore. I may be more active than most, but I don’t have to be treated like a whore.”
“I agree,” she says. “And so does Rowen. He feels horrible, Tiffany. And he’s lost without you. He has some serious apologizing to do, and lots and lots of groveling. I hope you let him try to make it up to you before you write him off. This is a really tough position for both of you to be in. That’s all I’m saying.”
I sit quietly for a few minutes thinking about what Quincy has said. To find out Mack has been using me against him for the sole purpose of pissing him off… He never told me how bad it was. His reaction makes much more sense now. Doesn’t make it right for him to take his anger out on me, but it does make sense.
“How many people know what happened between Rowen and me? You know, at my apartment,” I ask Quincy as the team heads back through the tunnel to get ready for the game.
“As far as I know, only Christian, Daniel, and me.”
“You haven’t told Geni?”
“It’s not my story to tell, Tiffany. And I wouldn’t use something like this for entertainment purposes.”
“Thanks,” I finally say. She smiles at me and nods.
The roar of the crowd should be invigorating. It’s my first professional game as a starter.
I was called into the coach’s office when we got here and given the news. Shivel is out. I’m in. He’s been traded to California for a couple of practice squad guys that will be here next week. I�
�m pretty sure most of us agree we got the better end of that trade.
So I should be excited. Instead, my mind is everywhere except on the game. Actually, that’s not true. My mind is on a certain brunette I’m praying I’ll see in the stands today.
Tiffany’s been ignoring my calls and texts all week. Can’t say I'm surprised. I wouldn’t answer any of my calls, either. But I texted her that I left tickets for her at the will-call office.
“She’ll be here,” Christian says with a clap on my shoulder.
We’re waiting in the tunnel for our names to be called as the rest of the team runs onto the pitch. I nod in acknowledgement, but it doesn’t make me any less anxious about the situation. I still don’t know how I’m going to prove to her I’m not that guy. That I didn’t intend on making her feel cheap and worthless. If I had to do it all over again, I would have made her feel cherished in that moment.
“Here we go,” Daniel yells, jumping up and down as his adrenaline spikes. The music blares, and I can barely make out the corner of Christian’s team picture as he takes off running.
“Get ready, Rookie. You’re next.”
Sure enough, my picture comes up on the big screen and I sprint through the tunnel. This is my big moment. I follow Christian’s lead and take a lap around the field, pretending I’m in my zone, but it feels more like an out-of-body experience.
By the time the whole team is on the field, I can feel the adrenaline coursing through the stadium. We huddle for our last-minute instructions from Daniel and the coach. We’re ready.
Daniel pats me on top of the head. “Get in the game, Rookie. Quincy is with her, so she’s fine. Focus on your job.”
I nod and get into position.
By the end of the first half, we’re tied one all. We aren’t consistent. Everyone is off, and I can’t place the blame on anyone except myself. I can’t find my stride.
We move into position, midfielders on the move. I hang back, all fast footwork and quick touches. After several minutes, or maybe just seconds, of intense back and forth between the teams, it becomes obvious our team isn’t on the same page.