by Rebel Hart
She dug her feet into the ground exactly where she was standing and looked like a bull prepared to rush. She was serious. I steeled myself, and when I was settled in my stance, she came bolting toward me. She smashed into me, and all of the wind went flying from my body. It was like I’d been hit by a freight train at top speed. My feet completely left the turf, and I went flying down to my back, slamming my head against the turf and instantly feeling dizzy. She stood to her feet over me, twisted her head to crack her neck, and looked down at me with a smug expression on her face.
The amount of hidden energy I had to pour into getting to my feet was surreal. My head was still buzzing a little, but I was okay apart from being rocked. I was going to call it, but Quinn dug her feet into the turf again and looked at me. She patted her abs a few times and then locked her arms on either side of herself. She meant for me to tackle her back. I said a silent apology to my body and charged. I plowed into her, and to my dissatisfaction, she didn’t go down. I dug my shoulder as deep into her sternum as it could go, curled up turf from the way my cleats were grinding in, and finally, she toppled. Unlike her, though, I didn’t have the energy to get back up. I rolled over to my back next to her, and when she didn’t get up, I knew she’d reached her limit, too.
We stayed there in total silence for what felt like hours. It had been a long time, if ever, since I’d run against someone who kept me on my toes as much as Quinn had. I already knew I was going to be too sore to function tomorrow, and Coach would be mad, but I didn’t care.
I had fun.
I forced the thought from my brain. Quinn wasn’t fun. I hated her. I hated that she backed out of our deal. There were thousands of players out there that could run a practice like that, there had to be.
When Quinn finally sat up, she folded her arms around her knees. I could see she was deep in thought, but she unexpectedly turned to look at me, and I didn’t even have the energy I needed to look away. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and for a second, I almost felt like I could see that same excited energy that was barreling through me in her. It was gone as quickly as it had come, and Quinn crawled up onto her feet. I stayed on my back and watched as she walked, slowly, over to her backpack and jacket. She picked them up and didn’t look back as she walked off the field.
Once she was gone from sight, I turned my face up to look at the stars. I counted them until I lost count, and before I knew it, my eyes had drifted shut, and I was snatched from consciousness.
13
Quinn
I was in absolutely no condition to play football. It had been two days since I ran drills with Zeke, and the memories still clung to me as much as the soreness clung to my muscles. I imagined Zeke’s face, determined and passionate as we ran, and the way the sweat glistened down his well-chiseled body. I hated the way it gave my heart a slight flutter. God damn him for being so much of an ass. If he weren’t, we could actually get along.
I was grateful for a home game so that I could use as much time as possible to rest, but when I asked Alec for a ride to the field, he finally got suspicious.
“All right, out with it.” I wasn’t prepared to fight, but Alec pulled the keys out of the ignition, and my legs were too sore to even consider getting out and walking. “What did you do to yourself.”
“I’m fine. I’m just a little sore.”
“I know your schedule better than I know my own. You’ve been to work, you’ve been to regular practices, and your next game isn’t for another two hours. You’re doing better today, but yesterday, you could barely walk. You owe me answers, Quinn.” Alec crossed his arms. “We promised.”
I grumbled. The night that Alec showed up at my door after having been kicked out of his parents’ home, I reamed him for not telling me sooner that he was questioning his sexuality. I’d learned that night that he had gone on several sketchy rendezvous in the interest of experimenting. Any one of them could have resulted in his kidnapping or death, and no one would have known where he was. That night we made a promise to one another never to keep secrets between us that could or did hurt us.
“Remember how I bought those season tickets to the Vipers games?” I asked.
“Yeah?”
“Well, I wanted them so I could see the Vipers play up close. I wanted to take notes on the way semi-pro games go, and that’s obviously my greatest resource.”
Alec raised an eyebrow. “And you got there, and they jumped you?”
“No, you freak.” I cracked my neck and winced at the way it sent a rush of aches down my back. “Zeke noticed me there. We argued, he grabbed me, and I punched him.”
“Wait, what? You got into a fight with him?”
“No, he kept his hands to himself after I hit him,” I replied, “but then he invited me onto the field to run drills.”
Alec looked to the sky, calculating the words. “Wait…” He looked back at me. “I’m confused.”
“I think he was trying to teach me a lesson or something, but we ended up running drills for hours. Everything under the sun. End zone to end zone suicides, presses, and ended with tackles. Finally, we both just ended up starfish on the turf. Neither of us could move.” I looked at him and poked my bottom lip out. “I’m ouchies.”
“Yeah, you’re ouchies! What were you thinking? You have your first qualifier tonight!”
I crossed my arm. “I wasn’t thinking!”
It was frustrating. Normally, I was a very methodical person. I didn’t consider myself impulsive by any means. In fact, everything I did in my life I’d done for years. I loved routines and prided myself on thinking things through before making huge decisions. Zeke drug a certain impulsivity out of me, though. I could blame it on the thrill of competition, but I didn’t think that’s what it was. I played on a high school and college team full of people who wanted to prove I didn’t belong where I was. I’d spent my entire football career stepping into the ring with people bigger than me, faster than me, and stronger than me, all to earn the right to stand where I stood. Zeke was hardly the first person who had ever challenged me, so why did he seem to have so much control over me? When it was him, I just couldn’t help myself.
Alec let out a loud gasp. “You like him!”
“What?” I fake gagged. “Gross!”
“You do!” A huge smile grew on his face. “You like him. He’s Mr. Football Handsome Man.”
For a brief moment, my mind drifted back to the sight of Zeke, drenched in sweat, statuesque, and waiting for a tackle, but I gave my head a little shake to wash it away. “He’s not—I don’t—No! Stop it!” Alec was clapping his hands and squealing. “Alec. Don’t. I don’t like him. He’s a dick!”
“So! You can be kind of a dick,” Alec replied. “Oh my gosh. He’s just as psycho about football as you, he’s obviously good looking, and he doesn’t just let you run around and say and do whatever you want like the rest of us mere mortals have to.” He gasped again. “Would I be your best man? It wouldn’t be Honey, right? Don’t say you’d pick Honey over me.”
I reached across and smacked him across his head. “Knock it off and take me to my game.”
Alec gave me a final sly side-eye and then finally started up the car.
My mind and body were equally a mess as we got ready for our game. Even the team, all of whom were still relatively mad at me, got worried and asked questions. I’d gotten them to forgive me after our loss to the Vipers, and practices resumed promptly once they learned we were still up for semi-pro status, but most of them were treating me like I was carrying some sort of disease. I didn’t fight for them to give me any more latitude than that. I didn’t really believe I deserved less, so I left it alone. Eventually, they would come around, and until then, I deserved every bit of flack I got for the rash decisions I made and physical and emotional stress I put them through. I was willing to wait for them to be ready, and the second we stepped on the field, they all locked into place, so I didn’t mind.
There was another hiccup that w
ould prove problematic during tonight’s game, and that was the fact that it was the first time the team would be meeting Cal. Only Lila had gone to the same high school as me, and she intentionally didn’t play on the high school team because it had a male coach. When she went to college, she managed to find a team with a female coach, and when she came back to Montpelier, she likely only agreed to play on the rec team because there were no men involved. I had been honest with the team that I’d found a coach, but that they would need the week to button up their job and get situated. I had left his gender out of the conversation. Tonight, most of them would be pleased to see that there was someone who knew what they were doing at the helm, but how Lila would react was anyone’s guess.
“Hey.” I looked up from where I was situating our supplies, and Cal was walking over. He had his braids pulled back in a ponytail and had a bag slung over his head. He scanned the field and raised an eyebrow. “This is quaint.”
I gave him a quick hug, trying to ignore how my legs protested at the way I had to go up on my tiptoes to do it. “Well, it’s not much, but it works and is ours, so I’ll take it.” I turned around to where the Widows were all in various states of preparing and cupped my hands around my mouth. “Ladies, can you huddle up? I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”
Everyone looked over and saw Cal standing at my side, and slowly, all of their gazes shifted to the back of the pack where Lila was standing. “That’s the man-hater I take it?” Cal huffed at me.
“Correct.” I smiled at him. “Sorry.”
He chuckled. “I’ve dealt with trouble before, Q. Give me more credit.”
“I’ve seen you deal with trouble,” I replied. “That is a whole lot more than trouble.”
The team gathered around, apart from Lila, who stayed standing about thirty feet back. When they were all situated, I held a hand out to Cal. “Guys, this is our new coach, Cal Carter. He was my coach back in high school, and he quit that job to be here with us. They wanted him for the Baltimore Ravens at one point, but he’s a Montpelier man and stayed here. He had a stint at the U until he was ready to settle down, and then he got a job at Mont High and has been there ever since.”
“Had,” Cal corrected me with a smile. “Black Widows, it’s a high honor. We’ve got a lot of work to do, but I’m impressed by what I’ve seen and what I’ve heard from Quinn. Now, don’t worry, I know you guys have done things a certain way before me, and I’m not going to run in here and start changing shit willy-nilly, but if you give me the reins, you can trust that I’ll lead you to even more victories.”
Jansen chuckled. “We have a coach.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kris said with a grin. “Honestly, I’m happy it’s someone else’s responsibility to keep these people in check.” She nodded at me. “And maybe you can lasso that one.”
I smiled broadly. “Yeah, hopefully, he won’t have to do too much lassoing. I promise I’m done being crazy.”
“Sure,” Hollie grumbled back before grinning at Cal. “Nice to meet you. I’m Hollie.”
“Trust me, Quinn got me with her recklessness. She put my name on the application before she asked me to coach.”
Kris looked at me with a disappointing stare. “Of course she did.”
“I had to put a name down!” I whined before waving my hand. “Look, we don’t have time for this. We have a team and a coach, and this is our first qualifying game for semi-pro status. Let’s focus on the goal, please.” I looked over at Lila, who was still glaring at us from thirty feet back. “Lila.”
“No,” she responded simply. “I won’t do it.”
“Lila, he’s a good coach—”
“He’s a man.” She crossed her arms. “Men don’t think we belong in this sport.”
Cal held up a hand. “Whoa. I think women are just as suited for football if not better.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “The first time I saw Quinn make a guy eat dirt, my whole world changed. You can trust me on this one, I have no—”
Lila glowered at Cal. “Enough. I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Lila, he is the coach of our team now. He quit a paid, daytime job to be here. Please just try?” Lila didn’t respond. She took her helmet and mouth guard, slid them on, and then walked out toward the field. I let out a sigh of relief and looked at Cal. “That’s as much of an acceptance as we’re gonna get for now.”
“I’ll wear her down.” He clapped. “All right, Widows. I’ll have some notes for you at halftime, but for now, get out there and show me what you got!”
The team was energized by Cal’s presence, which made me happy. They were even treating me better. For the first time, I’d made good on a promise to them instead of throwing them into more chaos, and that appeared to have earned me at least a modicum of restored respect. I was still sore, overly so, and Cal mentioned it at halftime. Despite my promise not to keep things from my team anymore, I told a small fib and said I’d just gone a little too hard on a personal workout. They didn’t need to know that I was half-distracted by a night of aggressive football playing with Zeke, a night that I couldn’t quite fit into a box of understanding in my mind.
Lila was tough to deal with but seemed to at least be giving it half a shot, or maybe she just wanted to work out her aggression by putting everyone she came into contact with six-feet under. As long as the Widows stayed out of her way, she was locking our opposition up left and right. The struggles we suffered from came purely in the form of not fully anticipating how much of a gap there was between our team and the semi-pro team. Much like the Vipers, this team had nearly quadruple our team size, and though the starters remained pretty much the same, they could be a bit riskier in their actions because if someone got hurt, they had a backup on the bench. We were at max capacity on the field and had to be careful. When the clock was ticking down toward the final seconds, we were tied, and my team did not have the stamina to go into overtime.
“We’re in field goal range,” Cal said with a sigh during our final timeout. “If we do it, you guys gotta keep ‘em tied up, though. If they kick a field goal, too, we’re into overtime.”
“We can’t do overtime,” I said and then held up my hands. “Sorry, Coach—”
“Don’t,” he growled. “This has been your team for this long. I’m still learning. Lay it on me.”
“We don’t have the stamina for it. I mean, Jansen and Mala probably do, but we can’t all be superheroes.” They smiled at me, and it felt good. It’d been a while since my team seemed happy with me. “I know it’s a risk, but we need to push and try and get the touchdown. It’ll take up more time, and if we can get the conversion, it’d end it. They’d never be able to get another touchdown in that time.”
“It’s fourth down,” Cal said.
“I know it’s risky, but I think we can do it.” I pointed at Lila and Jazz. “We need you guys. All I need is a hole.”
Jazz looked over at Lila, and she was still permeating with anger. She looked back at me and shrugged. “I think we can do it.”
“Okay.” I nodded at Cal, and he nodded back.
“You heard your captain. Lock them up and get her through. This is the difference between a win and a loss.”
The whistle blew, signifying the end of our timeout, and we made our way back out onto the field. My body was screaming at me to stop, but I disregarded it. We didn’t have much longer, and all it would take was one final push. We could do it.
The whistle blew, and I waited for Kris to hike the ball. Finally, she lobbed it between her legs and back to me, and when I started to back up, I took small steps. I scanned the field like I was looking for a receiver, and the defense was all over Jansen as our resident speed trap, but I was secretly keeping my attention on the wall in front of me, waiting for a crack. Finally, Lila slammed into two of the other team’s players and knocked them back. Jazz filed in and took another out the other way, and the small space lit up like a target in a video game.
I flew forward and charged
at the opening. A few of the other team’s players noticed me running and collapsed immediately, but they weren’t fast enough. I bolted through the hole and broke out into the open field behind the guards. Those trying to shut down the receivers noticed me running, but their reaction time was too slow. I fed myself in and out of them, and when one of them came to a stop directly in front of me, I ran straight at them, ducking my shoulder and knocking them out of the way. I flew over the final yard line and into our end zone for a touchdown.
Those Widows closest to me closed in to pat my helmet and back, and relief soared through me. We were up by one touchdown, and the clock was inside of two minutes and still running down.
“Reset!” I screamed, and the Widows rushed into place, preparing for a two-point conversion. The spectators were roaring around me, and when the whistle blew, the ball snapped back almost immediately. Jansen and Mala peeled out, and we effectively confused the defense. They all rushed toward me for a sack, so I threw the ball, just barely getting it over the player guarding Jansen, and it sailed right into her hands safely inside the end zone.
“Yes!” I cried.
No one moved to kick off the ball. There was no point. The other team would never get eight points in less than a minute. When the clock finally ran out, the Widows all rushed into one another, save for Lila, who was already filing off the field. Cal tried to shake her hand, but she ignored him entirely, grabbed her stuff, and left. It was a close victory, but a victory nonetheless, and the Widows seemed better than ever as we shuffled off the field.
We picked up our stuff, thanked the other team for coming, and I smiled when I noticed several of the Widows closing in on Cal to talk with him more. One by one, everyone started to leave, and I finally felt at peace for the first time in a long time. It wasn’t the victory that did it, it was knowing that no matter what, the Black Widows were a unit. We could get through whatever life threw at us.