Painted Over

by Sofi Keren

  “Of course. I never did tell anyone where we buried that time capsule.”

  “Oh god, I forgot all about that. It’s probably still under the backyard.”

  “Probably pretty gross and moldy by now.”

  “Ew. Anyhow, I’ve been taking interviews for coaching gigs.”

  Paige laughed. “No way. You, a coach?”

  Ria affected a wounded look. “You don’t think I could coach?”

  “Oh, no. You’d be a great coach, I’m sure. I guess I’ve just never imagined you not being one with the ball.”

  “Me neither, at least until the past couple years. One of the things they don’t tell you when you start playing sports is how beat up your body is going to get, especially when you get older.”

  “You’re only thirty-three.”

  “Yeah, but athletes age in dog years. So I’m really a hundred and fifty.”

  “You look pretty good for being a century and a half.”

  Brandon strode up to the table and coughed to get their attention, his hands full of glasses.

  “When I told you I’d get the tab, I didn’t mean you should drink all of the alcohol in the entire bar at once.” Paige deadpanned.

  “You said we were celebrating,” he retorted. “I’m just much, much better at celebrating than you are. Anyhow, one of these drinks is for our esteemed guest. I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I got you options—Sun King Osiris like our friend Paige here, or the classic Johnny Walker Black on the rocks, like me. No pressure, but I will absolutely judge you on the choice you make.”

  “Well in that case…” Ria reached with both hands and took one of each, immediately downing the whiskey and handing the empty glass back to him. Brandon nodded his approval.

  “You know,” Ria said, “My mother told me never to accept drinks from strange men.”

  “Strange? Me?” Brandon feigned offense. “I am your perfectly ordinary, run of the mill, Brandon. Pleased to make your acquaintance, by the way.” He held out a hand and bent at the waist, as if greeting royalty.

  Ria took his hand and nodded a mock curtsy. “I’m Ria, but I take it you already know that, since apparently you were the one who invited me to this little party. What’s the occasion anyway? Paige has been remiss at filling me in.”

  “She didn’t tell you? Typical. She’s always keeping the good news to herself.”

  “She always has,” Ria replied. Paige looked at her sideways. What was that supposed to mean?

  “Well, go on, rock star,” Brandon insisted. “Tell her what you’ve won.”

  Paige felt embarrassed. “I didn’t win anything. I just got a job. A mural in Chicago.”

  “Oh, please,” Brandon interrupted. “She got picked out of hundreds or thousands of artists to do a huge mural in Boystown. And they’re paying her actual money instead of a year’s supply of hot dogs, which is what I imagine they typically use for currency up in Chicago.”

  “Paige, that’s amazing,” Ria said. “Congratulations.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “Don’t do that. Don’t underplay your achievements.” She turned to Brandon. “She’s always been this ridiculously talented. Did you know that? When we were little kids, she would draw everything she saw, from trees to soccer balls to dirty laundry.”

  “It was tough to really invoke the smell of the dirty laundry,” Paige said, “but I think I did it justice.”

  Brandon made an exaggerated slurping sound and held up his glass, which now contained only a few melting ice cubes. “Down the hatch, as they say. Anyone for round two?”

  “Round two?” Paige looked at him sternly. “I don’t think you’re using solid math skills here. And you should know, Ria is a certified mathematician and you can’t get anything by her.”

  “Seriously?” Brandon looked impressed.

  “I can add a little,” Ria said, “but who’s counting?” She gave Paige a look that meant trouble, raised her glass of beer, and drained it dry.

  “Did Paige ever tell you about when we went to the World Cup back in ’99?” Ria asked a few rounds later, her words slurring just a little.

  “No! Was that the year that—”

  “That Brandi Chastain tore off her shirt and ran around in her sports bra?”

  “How’d you know what I was going to say?” Brandon laughed. “Am I that predictable?”

  “You’re a dude. But, I can’t blame you. It was iconic. And, okay, yes, she was pretty damn hot.”

  “But Mia Hamm,” Paige said, her voice dreamy. “She was the best.”

  “God, that team had so many great players. I always wanted to play like them. Every single person was so strong, and they fit together so well. You know, Paige, I always thought you were a little like Mia.”

  “Wait, wait, hold on,” Brandon said. “Paige played soccer?”

  “I told you that.”

  “Yeah, but not that you were, like, any good at it.”

  “I was never as good as Ria. And I quit in eighth grade.”

  “She could have been amazing, if she’d wanted it,” Ria insisted. “She was a really good defensive player, and she could set you up beautifully for a shot. But her heart wasn’t in it, you know? We always knew she was going to be our Georgia O’Keefe instead.”

  Paige tried to steer the conversation back on track. “So, the World Cup in 1999. We were sixteen, I think, and Ria was as soccer-crazed as ever. We’d been watching every game on TV, taping them and rewinding them over and over again to see how they pulled those crazy moves. They were playing in California at the Rose Bowl. We would yell at the TV like we were there in the stadium. The day before the final game, Ria’s dad pulled us aside and said we needed to talk. It was terrifying.”

  “We were so sure he’d caught on that we were sneaking his vodka and replacing it with water,” Ria giggled. “He said, ‘Listen girls, I know you love soccer but you’re getting a little out of hand.’ We looked at each other, totally confused. He loved soccer too, and he loved that we loved it. And then he said, ‘Your mom can’t handle the noise anymore. So, the only thing we can do is…’ And he held up plane tickets and said, ‘Get on out to sunny California to see the last game in person!’”

  “We were so excited we probably didn’t stop screaming for ten minutes.”

  “He totally surprised us. I had no idea he was going to do that.”

  “Your dad has always been awesome. It’s exactly the kind of thing he would do.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “And was the game as amazing in person as it was on TV?” Brandon asked.

  “Oh god, yes,” Ria said fervently. “I can still see every last play in my mind. I screamed so loud that I lost my voice for a week.”

  “And don’t forget, you made me paint my belly in red, white, and blue.”

  “Hey, you were the one who decided what we should paint.”

  “Ha. Oh yeah.”

  “What did you paint?” Brandon asked.

  “Paige was so in love with Mia Hamm. I loved Mia too, but Carla Overbeck was my girl. So of course, I painted Mia on my stomach, and Paige painted Hamm.”

  “Do you think she saw you?”

  “Oh, she saw us,” Paige said. “Ria’s dad doesn’t do anything halfway. Our seats were so close that I swear we could smell the players’ sweat.”

  “Sounds…fragrant.”

  “We were screaming U-S-A and ‘Mia Hamm’ over and over. I swear she looked up at us and winked.”

  “I was lucky Paige didn’t pass out.”

  “Oh, like you were so cool.” Paige made a face.

  “Do you remember the game ended in a shootout? God, I thought I was going to barf I was so nervous. But they did it. Of course they did.”

  “I can’t believe it was that close and we got to see it. I should thank your dad again for that sometime. It’s probably one of my top ten memories.”

  “Oh, top five for sure.”

  “But little did we k
now that you were going to grow up to be just as good as any player on that team.”

  “You didn’t?” Ria affected a wounded expression.

  “Okay fine, we did, but it’s not like we needed to make your ego any bigger.”

  “Ouch. I think my ego is perfectly sized for my head.”

  “True. You’ve always had an abnormally large head.”

  “Well, ladies,” Brandon broke in. “I hate to interrupt this stroll down memory lane, but I have students tomorrow, and I need at least a solid five hours if I’m going to listen to off-key singing without murdering someone.”

  Paige and Ria looked outside and both seemed shocked that the sky was solidly black.

  “Oh, crap,” Ria said. “When did it get so dark?” She looked at her phone. “It’s almost midnight!”

  “Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?” Paige asked, not quite ready to go home.

  “No, but I have a thing tomorrow.” Ria pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber. “He’ll be here in about ten minutes. Do you want a ride?”

  “We’re going the opposite way. What kind of thing do you have tomorrow?”

  “Something at our old school.”

  “Oh, are you going to give a motivational speech or something? Tell kids to stay off the drugs and play sports instead?”

  “Kind of. But I’ll tell them that pot is okay, unless you’re going to be drug tested within thirty days.”

  “Good advice,” Brandon said. “Hey, I’ll go settle up. Paige, you’re giving the bartender a really good tip.”

  “Great.”

  “I should probably wait outside,” Ria said.

  “I’ll wait with you.”

  The street was quiet, the evening air cool, only a few cars passing by. They waited in the soft glow of the street lamps.

  “So you’re really giving a speech at the school? Who would have imagined?”

  Ria looked a little embarrassed. “Okay, fine, they’re naming one of the gyms after me.”

  “Wait, there’s more than one gym at the high school now? And your name is going to be on one? No way.”

  “Yep. I always dreamed about having my name on the smelliest part of the school.”

  “That’s so great, Ria. You deserve it.”

  “Because I’m smelly?”

  “Exactly.”

  Ria hesitated. “You know, you’re welcome to come if you want. The family will all be there. Well, except for Jer, he had to head home. It’ll probably be kinda lame, you know, all those kids being forced to come listen to me talk when they’d rather be making out with each other in the hallway. But it would be cool if you came. Like we came full circle. If you don’t have to work, or, I mean, have other things you need to do. I know you have a life.”

  Paige wasn’t sure if it was the drinks, or the night that felt like a dream, but she felt so glad to have Ria back in her life again. Ria smiled at her and she felt surrounded in warmth.

  “Of course I’ll go. I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Paige…” Ria said, stepping closer.

  Paige looked into her eyes. What was she so worried about? She reached out and took Ria’s hand and a feeling shot through her whole body. Ria bit her lip, as though she was unsure and pulled her closer. In the back of Paige’s mind, a little voice told her to wait, that this might not be a great idea, but she told the voice to shut up.

  A car rolled to a stop right next to them. They barely noticed, standing there, looking at each other, until a man coughed. “Someone call an Uber?”

  It broke the spell. Paige flushed, embarrassed to be caught in such a private moment.

  “That’s me,” Ria said. “Just a second,” she told the driver.

  “Guess you better go,” Paige whispered.

  “I guess so. But you’ll be there tomorrow, right?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Ria wrapped her in a tight hug and let her go. “Thanks for a great night. And congrats again on your mural project.”

  “Oh right, that. Thanks.” She could barely corral her thoughts.

  She watched as Ria climbed in the car and shut the door, waving as it pulled away. Once it was out of sight, Paige finally let the out the breath she was holding.

  Chapter Six

  “What the hell?” Paige said to herself, once she’d finally woken up. That was not how she had expected her evening to go. What even was that?

  She tore herself out of bed, her head reminding her that drinking in her thirties was much different than back in her college days. Though it seemed to have much the same effect on her behavior.

  Brandon had already left for the day, but bless that man, he’d left half a pot of coffee behind. As the caffeine seeped into her brain, she couldn’t help but obsess about it. Could she blame it on the beer and the shots? So much for being older and wiser. It wasn’t even what she wanted, right? They’d just started talking again, after all. Why take the risk of blowing things up all over again? But still, she couldn’t help that part of her that wondered what if.

  Oh god, it was already late in the morning, and she’d promised to go to the gym dedication. Downing the rest of the coffee, Paige forced herself into the shower.

  She had thought that her old high school would look smaller now that she was older. But if anything, it looked even bigger. The school had only grown in the years since she and Ria walked its halls. Even back then she’d thought there were too many kids for one school, but the district didn’t want to add a second high school and dilute their sports teams’ talent pools.

  That made it all the more incredible that Ria had been such a superstar on the high school team. By her sophomore year, she already played more minutes each game than most of the seniors. If there was such a thing as fate, Ria was meant to be a soccer star. And it felt only right that they were back here again to recognize her for it.

  Paige checked in at the front desk and showed her ID, explaining that she was there for Ria’s ceremony as a friend of the family. After signing in, they gave her a visitor’s badge. They didn’t have this kind of security back in the day, she thought. Now cameras dotted the hallways and visitors were carefully scrutinized before they entered the building. She was glad she’d gone to school before all of this was necessary.

  Finding herself swept up in a sea of students, she followed along as they headed toward the gymnasium where Ria would speak to the senior class and cut the ribbon dedicating the building as the Ria Worth Sports Gym. The kids looked so young that Paige couldn’t tell if they looked younger now, or if she was just losing her ability to guess people’s ages. Did she look old to them?

  When she’d gone here, she couldn’t have imagined what life would be like at thirty-three. The life ahead looked like one big blur, like a canvas she hadn’t even begun to paint. Ria was probably the only person she’d known who had a true plan and the drive to follow through. Paige had her own passions, but unlike Ria’s, they didn’t lead her down a straight path.

  The pack of teenage girls in front of her spoke loudly and somehow managed to walk, talk, and text on their phones all at the same time without tripping. That was some kind of talent. She couldn’t help overhearing them.

  “At first I thought this would be totally lame, but have you seen a picture of Ria? She’s hot,” a tall blonde in a short skirt said with a laugh.

  “Oh totally,” a shorter brunette answered. “I would definitely fence jump for her.”

  The group laughed and their conversation rolled on to different subjects. Paige laughed to herself and shook her head. Ria still had it. And it was amazing to hear the kids talking so openly. While they hadn’t been secretive, she and Ria still hadn’t talked about girls loudly in the hallways. Maybe everything had changed and kids didn’t have to worry about that kind of thing anymore. Maybe they just worried about the million other things that set them apart and made them different. It made her smile and also made her feel like a dinosaur.

  The students converged on the ent
rance to the gym. Paige looked up as she walked inside. The building had received a makeover since she was in it last, but state championship banners still hung in the rafters, declaring the Carmel High School Greyhounds winners. She searched around until she found Ria’s IHSAA banners—two of them—her sophomore and senior years. They may as well have belonged to Ria. She was always the star and without her, they probably wouldn’t have won.

  Someone off to the side of the gym caught her eye and waved. Mila. Paige smiled and waved back, picking her way around the chattering teens to meet her.

  “This is amazing,” she said when she finally reached Mila and the rest of the family. “I feel like I’ve gone back in time a little.”

  “Like Doctor Who!” Mila said with a laugh.

  “You watch Doctor Who, Mila?”

  “Oh yes, but I do miss David Tennant. He was my favorite Doctor.”

  “We’ll have to debate that later. I’m still soft on Christopher Eccleston, even though he just had that one season.”

  The loudspeaker made a high-pitched squeal, and everyone winced and covered their ears. Well, some things never change.

  “Please make your way to your seats,” the disembodied voice insisted. “Our program is about to begin.”

  “This is so cool,” Benji said, shouldering his way through the crowd. “Who would have thought when we were kids that we’d be back here for something like this?”

  “I would have,” Henry replied.

  It was true. Henry had always believed Ria could do anything, and he somehow managed to avoid being the cliché type of soccer dad. He cheered and supported, but he didn’t scream and berate the coaches and try to run the games himself from the sidelines like so many other parents. That was probably a big reason why Ria never burned out. Paige had seen the constant commentary and the pressure from the other parents. She’d seen the light in the other kids’ eyes go slowly out as their love of the game was replaced by the trepidation of disappointing their moms or dads. Ria was damn lucky.

  The Worth family was still the same—still proud of Ria, still cheering and showing up anywhere they could to show support for her. Paige felt lucky to have found this family. Once they’d decided she was part of it, they’d given her all the same support.