by ME Carter
“Most people say I’m a whore and don’t deserve someone like Rowen,” I say. I’m ashamed his mother, of all people, would know every dirty deed I’ve ever done.
She takes my hand in hers. “If I subscribed to that belief, then Ryan wouldn’t deserve someone like me. And that is far from the truth. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“But the things I’ve done—”
“Are in the past,” she says and squeezes my hand tighter. “And honey, everyone, everyone has a past. You could be a recovering drug addict. You could have a DUI on your record. Or be a gambling addict. But my question to you is are you planning to stay faithful to my son?”
“Of course! It’s not the same with him. At all.”
She smiles. “That’s because sex changes once the soul gets involved.”
She’s right. Even though Rowen and I have never had actual sex, what we’ve done has been more intimate. More… special.
Picking up her masher, she gets back to work on the potatoes. “The thing about sex….” She smiles when I cringe. “I know it feels weird to be talking to me about this, but you’ve met my husband and son. No topic is off-limits around here.” I grin. “Sex has multiple uses. It can be used as a physical release and for relaxation. It can be used to express love and intimacy. But it can also be used as a weapon. In this case, it was used as a weapon against you.”
“I feel like I shouldn’t be making such a big deal about it. Like it’s a stupid naked picture, so who cares, ya know?”
“Oh, honey. You are allowed to feel however you want. I don’t care how anyone tries to downplay it. You were violated and humiliated in a very public and malicious way. Do you have to pick yourself back up and move on from it? Absolutely. But it’s only been two days. You need some time to heal.”
I finally ask the question that’s still bugging me. “Did you look at it?”
“Absolutely not, and neither did Ryan. We would never violate Rowen’s trust like that. Or yours. Actually,” she says, throwing butter into the potatoes, “I never look at pictures when they are leaked. If I’m going to subscribe to the belief that it’s a violation of someone’s privacy, I need to respect anyone in that situation.”
I clasp my hands together in my lap, tears in my eyes. “Thank you.”
Suddenly the back door opens, and the guys walk in, faces flushed from the cold.
“Hey! Close that door. You’re getting my food cold,” Denise scolds.
Ryan slams the door behind him, stalks over to her, and wraps his arms around her. “Bangers and mash,” he says, kissing her on the neck, making her squeal from the chill. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around, Mo grá.”
She smacks him on the arm. “I didn’t do it for you, I did it for your son.”
“Then he needs to come home more often.”
“How was your workout?” I ask Rowen as he comes over and rubs my back.
“Cold. This asshat seems to think it’s no big deal to do drills in thirty-four degree temperatures,” Rowen jokes.
“You’ve gotten soft since ye moved down south,” Ryan jokes back.
“You two, go shower,” she says pointing a stirring spoon at them. “Lunch will be ready in about ten minutes, and you both stink.”
They grumble a little but obey. While they clean up, I set the table for four and help get all the food on the table. It’s strange to me to have such a big lunch. I’m used to big dinners, but I guess they burn off a lot of calories around here, so they have to eat a lot even in the middle of the day.
We spend the next hour enjoying the meal and the banter. Rowen’s family is really funny. They rib each other a lot, and no one takes themselves too seriously. It’s refreshing and does a lot to put me at ease.
“Did you get your hair cut, boyo?” Ryan asks as he shovels more potatoes in his mouth.
“Last week,” Rowen responds with a roll of his eyes.
“Which one got cut?” He lets out a hearty laugh, and I choke on my drink.
“Are you okay, babe?” Rowen pats my back in concern.
I nod and cough into my napkin. “Yeah. I just wasn’t expecting him to say that.”
“How could you not see it coming? It’s his favorite joke ever. He literally asks me about my hair every time I’m here.”
“So you like jokes?” I ask Ryan, quirking my eyebrow.
He leans forward on the table in challenge. “I hear yer quite the jokester yerself.”
“Why’d the chicken cross the playground?”
He narrows his eyes. “I don’t know. Why?”
“To get to the other slide.”
Ryan looks at Denise. “She’s good.”
“She’s more like you than I first thought,” Denise murmurs as she starts clearing the table.
When his phone alerts him, Rowen looks down to read a text message. He grabs my hand. “Come on. I wanna show you something.”
I follow him into the living room, where he opens his laptop and pulls up the Channel Four website. My heart beats wildly, and my breathing is heavier.
“What is it?” I whisper. I’m so afraid there’s more. “Is there a new picture? Or a video? Oh god. I don’t know if I can recover if there is a video.”
Rowen clicks a link. “It’s nothing bad, baby. You need to see what’s been in the works since this whole thing began.”
Mannie’s face pops up on the monitor, and he starts talking.
“The Texas Mutiny has been pretty tight lipped this week after some serious allegations from Mack Shivel regarding team shenanigans after the games.”
I laugh. “That’s a nice way to put it. Remind me to give Mannie more air time when I get back.”
“While most of the players have had no comment regarding the incident, Team Captain Daniel Zavaro made his thoughts known after practice last night.”
Daniel comes on camera. He’s standing in the locker room, half a dozen microphones shoved in his face. He looks cool and collected, as if none of this is a big deal.
“Daniel,” a reporter says, “What are your thoughts about the picture Mack Shivel put on his Instagram account of Rowen Flanigan’s girlfriend?”
“Man, I’m really pissed about that. Tiffany is a really good friend to me and my girlfriend,” he says coolly. “They hang out together at games, and she’s been to our home for family barbeques. And before you ask, no, she has never been more than a friend to me.”
There are snickers heard around the room, and the video cuts away to the famous shot of Rowen jumping into the stands.
“She’s a local television producer, and her work has been invaluable to this team.”
“So there’s no truth in what Shivel said?” someone else asks.
“Well, I don’t know what goes on behind her closed doors, so I can’t speak on that. What I do know is these statements were made by a man who is pretty pissed off about being traded. Before he left, he made numerous threats against Flanigan, some of which I was witness to. I would be very careful believing much of what he says.”
Mannie comes back on screen and continues talking, but I don’t hear any more. Rowen closes the laptop and turns to me. “That’s the team’s official stance.”
“Really?”
“Really. Everyone has been told to refer to that statement if any more questions are asked. I’m pretty sure the focus is now going to be on Shivel and his history of being difficult to work with.”
Tears fill my eyes, and I feel like a weight has been lifted. “This is, wow. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Daniel orchestrated the whole thing. You have always been a friend to the team. You just trusted the wrong people.”
“I love you, Rowen.” I snuggle into him.
He kisses me on the head and hugs me close. “I love you, too.”
I’ve never felt more cared for in my life. For the first time in several days, I feel like I’m going to be okay.
We spent four more days in Detroit. Tiffan
y rested and relaxed. I, on the other hand, got my ass kicked by Da on a regular basis. I was grateful, though. I had royally fucked up and let down my team. I wanted to be in tip-top shape when I got back on that field to make up for it.
I discreetly monitored the sports news while we were there. I didn’t want Tiffany to see anything that would throw her back into a tailspin, but I needed to know the worst was over. Things got very quiet, very quick. It actually surprised me how fast it was over. The biggest news after Daniel’s interview was Shivel’s suspension and subsequent demotion to the practice team.
I wanted to laugh at the mess he’d created for himself. His skills were already declining. If he’d wanted to stay on top, he needed to spend less time sabotaging others and more time working on his game. But he didn’t, and it caught up with him.
We made it home about a week ago. I rode out my last days on suspension on laundry duty and working my ass off in practice. Tiffany laid low until the boss let her go back in. She was ready.
Things are getting back to normal. I’m back to my starting position in tonight’s game, and Tiffany is back at work at the station. I had to give her a pep talk before she went, but she seems to be holding up. She’s tough. I wish she was here in the stands watching the game, but it’s probably better for her not to be here this time. People are going to notice I’m back, and I’d rather not stir up trouble for her.
I feel the adrenaline in the stadium as we wait to run through the tunnel. I love it. It’s one of the best feelings in the world.
“Get fired up, motherfuckers!” Daniel yells as he bounces on his toes.
A picture of Christian flashes on the big screen, and he takes off running. “See you on the other side, bitches,” he calls over his shoulder.
“You good, Rookie?” Daniels asks me.
“Yup. Getting in my zone.” My face and stats are the next to pop up on the Jumbotron. I race through the tunnel, a smile on my face. This is what I train for. What I live for. I wouldn’t want to have a job doing anything else.
I make my lap around the field and end back with my team. Once everyone is together, we huddle up, and words of encouragement are thrown out, pumping us up.
“This is our house,” Daniel yells. “Our hometown. Are we gonna let them come in here and show us up in our house?”
A round of cheers goes up.
“Then let’s do this shit! Let’s show them who’s boss. Let’s make them our bitches!” We cheer and set off to get into position.
By the end of the first half, we’re tied one to one, but I’m not worried. We’re extremely consistent, and I feel like I’ve found my stride.
Midfielders go on the move. After several minutes of intense back and forth between the teams, it becomes obvious all our training is paying off. We’re working the ball as a team and their plays aren’t working.
I need to make a solid pass through the Iguana’s defense so Daniel can get a clear shot of the goal. He’s right where I need him to be, so I make the pass. He taps it toward the goal, but losses possession.
I get it back by putting pressure on their forward, riding right on number seven’s back. We fight for the ball. And when that doesn’t work number seven pretends I trip him and he goes down.
Unfortunately, the ref believes him and blows his whistle. That damn yellow card is raised. A penalty shot is awarded.
Shit.
“That was a dick move,” I tell him as we get in position.
“Don’t be a fucking pussy,” he responds.
“Ignore him,” Christian says as we move back into position for the kick, lining up outside the box. “Don’t let him get in your head.”
“I’m good,” I respond keeping my eyes trained on the ball as our goalie prepares for the shot. The kicker studies our goal before taking a few steps back and three long strides forward. His toe connects under the ball, but it’s too wide.
Moments later, the ball is back in play.
Their forward has a hard time getting past me and our goalie clears it across the field.
We head back down the field, battling it out the whole way. In his haste to get past me, he trips and goes down, but the ref doesn’t call it.
“What the fuck, man?” he yells.
“What?” I counter. “I didn’t touch you. Don’t blame me ’cause you’re losing all your dainty ballerina skills.”
His eyes narrow, and I see the insult coming. “Saw your slut on the internet,” he says. “Jacked off to the picture. Is her body always that banging?”
“Wouldn’t know,” I respond as the ball comes right at us, and we fight for control. “Her face was Photoshopped onto your sister’s nudie pic.”
His face falls. “Shut up, asshole. You don’t know my sister.”
“Oh, but I do. And her sweet pussy was delicious last night.” He loses control, and I pass the ball to Daniel, who jukes out their goalie and easily puts the ball in the back of the net and earns us another point, breaking the tie.
A cheer goes through the crowd, and the team comes together to celebrate.
After a round of cheers, Christian pats me on top of the head. “Nice job, Rookie. Glad to see you’re back.”
I get back into position. It’s good to be back.
“I promise, Mom, I’m doing great,” I say into the phone as I snatch my last-minute script changes off the printer. “It was rough at first, and I still have my moments, but I feel stronger every day.”
She sighs. “I wish you had come home instead of going to Detroit. I would have taken care of you.”
“I wouldn’t have even gone to Detroit if Rowen hadn’t practically man-handled me into the car.” Grabbing my headset, I jog down the stairs to the newsroom. “Besides, I didn’t want you to see me like that. I was too ashamed.”
“Honey, you should never be ashamed around me.”
“That’s easier said than done, and you know it. I never wanted you to hear those details, Mom. You and I have a good relationship, but some things your mother never needs to know.”
“I know, I know. Promise me you’ll come home soon to visit. It’s been too long.”
“I promise, but hey, I have to go. I’ve got about five minutes until my show starts.”
“Okay, dear. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom. Bye.”
I end the call and toss a wave at Caleb as I rush past his desk. He gives me a dirty look, and I laugh.
Coming in today was hard. It was my first day back, and I wasn’t sure what to expect, but Caleb immediately put me at ease. He treated me exactly the way he always has. He even yelled at me when I jinxed his scanners. Three breaking news stories came in as soon as I said the magic words. It was great.
With Steve off today, Mannie and I spent the afternoon watching the games. The Mutiny was on the biggest screen we have. I was really proud of Rowen. He played an amazing game. Really proved they hadn’t made a mistake moving him into the starter position. They won, two to one.
He even did a post-game interview. I laughed when I saw it. While he refused to talk about my picture, no matter how many times he was asked, he had no problem talking about how Shivel wasn’t physically up to the challenge anymore. We both know Shivel is going to be seething when he sees it, and I know Shivel well enough to know he will see it.
I walk into the studio and hand Mannie the updated copies of the script. “There are minor changes on page five, and the Astros game just ended. The scores are in there.”
He nods and continues putting on his microphone. I need to go to the booth. We only have about two minutes until we’re back on the air, but I need to talk to one person first.
“Hey,” I say to Casey. She’s adjusting her camera, waiting to zoom in during the opening credits.
“Hey, Tiffany.” She smiles. “Glad you’re back. Did you have fun on your trip?”
“Rowen’s parents are great, but it is cold in Detroit. I’m glad to be back in Houston, so I can thaw out a bit.”
/> “I bet.”
“So, um, I wanted to thank you.” She looks at me quizzically. “For sticking up for me that day. What you did, it made me feel like I wasn’t totally alone. Like I had at least one ally.”
“Of course I stood up for you. I’m pretty low-key for the most part, but I’m passionate about three things.” She holds up three fingers and ticks them off. “Animal cruelty, child abuse, and sexual assault. I know it’s not classified that way, but that’s what happened to you—sexual assault.”
“You’re not the first person to say something along those lines to me recently.”
“Then I wouldn’t be the first person who was right about it. The laws desperately need to be changed when it comes to situations like this. Unfortunately, it’s going to take something drastic, like it happening to a senator’s daughter or something, for the lawmakers to finally give a shit and see it for what it really is. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a responsibility to call people out on it now.”
The director gives a thirty-second countdown through the headset. “I gotta get to the booth. But anyway, thank you.”
“Anytime,” she says, turning back to her camera.
The other cameramen avoid my eyes, but I don’t care. I won’t let some immature remarks ruin me.
The saying is “That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” I can personally verify it’s true.
Six months later
A warm breeze blows through the open balcony doors, making the sheer white curtains billow. It looks like a picture you would see in a magazine, but I barely notice. My focus is on the beautiful, naked creature in my bed.
Tiffany is sound asleep on her stomach, facing me, her beautiful brown hair fanned across the pillow. I can’t stop staring at her as she sleeps peacefully.
This is what we needed, to get away from everyone and everything. The season was stressful. Not just on me, but on Tiffany as well. After the picture scandal broke, she couldn’t sit in the stands anymore. Anytime she did, people would surround her, taking pictures and making comments. It’ll eventually die down, we hope, but soccer fans never forget anything. It’ll take some time before she will feel comfortable in Section 100 again.