by Tara Wimble
The emails come next. CSA sends them a detailed schedule of what this camp entails as well as a contract for Bella to agree to. Mostly about her commitment to the team and what this requires her to do. There’s a small add on about wages as well but that gets filled in by Jacque who doesn’t seem to trust her to handle it properly.
It’s strange to be looking at the words Canadian Soccer Association rather than US Soccer but once she’s signed everything that’s necessary, it falls to the back of her mind.
They’re both expected in Montreal by the 20th so things have to be tied up quickly. Bella has to explain her situation to the Athletics department and eventually ends up quitting. There was no other way to balance the time she’d be away. Jacque figures out their flights and car options before they start packing.
It’s then, when Bella is packing for camp for the first time, that things start to sink in for them both. One foot on the ladder.
Jacque makes sure that they don’t forget anything while Bella makes that important phone call to her family about her border hopping onto the Canadian national team. To their amusement, her mom takes it better than their engagement.
But everyone in her family knows how much playing soccer at this level means to her so it was never going to be an argument. Unlike her unforeseen foray into women.
The call is ended, their tickets are picked up and passports stamped and the like. Then it’s catching up on sleep on the flight while Jacque figures out a battle plan for the first few hours.
“You say that as if something’s going to go wrong.” Bella is staring at the rotating baggage claim. “We’re here, aren’t we?”
Jacque taps through her phone. “We’re here because we managed to get through the small stuff.”
“The wedding was not small.”
“No,” Jacque agrees. “But it also wasn’t populated by teammates and friends that I’ve known for a long time. They know me, probably better than you ever will-”
“Gee, Jacque.” Bella rolls her eyes. “Shame what little marriage means these days.”
“Don’t be cute.” Jacque stops her short. “-if we’re not careful, this will be your first and last day at camp.”
Bella heaves off their bags when they come around to them. “You don’t have a lot of faith in me, do you?”
Jacque stares at those big eyes, so earnest and hopeful. “No.”
“Jacque.” She whines.
“On the field? I have every faith in you. This team would be lucky to have you.” Jacque back tracks. “But off the field? Trying to play this- being together? My team is gonna take one look at you and cry ‘jail bait’ or ‘baby dyke’ and you’re gonna freak out.”
Bella looks offended.
“Or, even worse, they’ll figure out you’re straight and then I’ll look like the stupid one.”
Bella reins her expression in and takes the handle of her bag as they make their way out. “So, plan?”
Jacque leads the way. “There’s no plan just, you’ve got to commit to it all. The soccer, the team, this whole charade of feelings. Even when you don’t feel up to it.”
Bella nods. “I have to love Canada.”
That gets a laugh. “In every way possible.”
Their discussion gets more detailed as Jacque tries to pin down the personalities on the team that Bella hasn’t faced up to yet. While she’s met Sadie, Carla, Ginny and Niav, Bella hasn’t been put through her paces by the likes of Whemb or Oliv yet.
“What have you told them about me?” Bella asks when they’re in the rental car.
“About you?” Jacque repeats. “Other than the fact we’re married?”
She’s left a lot of it open and the other parts, well, she doesn’t want to boost Bella’s ego too much about what she thought of her. Most of it had been a physical description, for those that hadn’t met her, and bits and pieces that Jacque won’t let her in on.
“You’ll fit right in. We’re all a family.” Jacque reassures. “You’ve just gotta be prepared, is all.”
“Right.” Bella nods along. They’re headed straight to the field to meet the team. Being the last ones to fly in meant that they wouldn’t have time to check into the team’s hotel until later. They’d quickly gotten changed in the airport before setting off. Bella is wearing one of Jacque’s training shirts from the last camp until she’s given her own set kit.
“I mean, you’ve met a few of them but not like Whemb or Sophie or anyone.” Jacque waves to the volunteer that’s pointing them towards the parking lot of the field. The gates are being checked for them specifically so that they’re directed into the right area.
Bella closes the glove compartment. “So to sum up then, play nice, play happy, play in love and we’re good?”
Jacque nods and finds a place to park. “And don’t forget, you’re here to play soccer.”
“Wait what.” Bella slams her hands down on the dashboard and Jacque almost hits the car she’s attempting to park next to. She looks over at Bella alarmed only to find a sarcastic look on her face. “Is that why I packed those cleats?”
Jacque rolls her eyes, backs out and straightens her park job. “You think you’re so cute.”
“I know I’m cute.”
Jacque shuts off the car and looks back towards Bella, serious for a moment. “You just keep up that self-confidence. You’ll need it.”
They both exit the car, popping around back to the trunk and grabbing the equipment they brought from home. Jacque locks the trunk and they start walking together towards the facility.
Bella surprises her off the bat and grabs her hand. “What’re you doing?”
“I told you.” Bella laces their fingers together. “We’re good.”
“Handholding.” Jacque snorts. “Yeah, you’re not gonna last five minutes with these people.”
*
She stands out almost immediately and not for the right reasons. The nerves are definitely there and on one of her first shooting drills she’s asked the slot the ball across goal and ends up slamming it into the side netting completely unchallenged by any sort of defender.
Her first interaction with Olivia Andreoli is being clapped on the shoulder and being told to go to the back of the line again. “Nice touch, thunderfoot.” It’s said with a smirk and Bella can’t quite get a read on it.
Still she jogs to the back of the line because she’s not starting off on the right metaphorical foot and the last thing she needs to do is start thinking too much.
Her next touch is better, she feeds the ball right onto Oliv’s foot and the clap on her shoulder is still rough but it’s reassuring this time. And there’s no sarcastic comment. The smirk remains though, Bella thinks that maybe that’s just how her face looks.
The drills start specific at first but as practice wears on and they’ve warmed up, they become more general. More passing and running. More crossing and sprinting. She mixes with defenders, midfielders, keepers and forwards. A few of them to look at her twice, sensing a new face, while others such as Sadie call her name when she passes them.
As time wears on and as they integrate more and more she starts to settle in, the familiar faces help. Even if once upon a time they were opposing players rather than teammates.
Having Jacque there helps more than she can say. The practice ends with some five v five scrimmages and they’re put on opposite teams. Everything is more amusing when she’s the one trying to get past Jacque to score and ends up being pulled to the ground in the most obvious foul possible.
The trainers on the side look at them with a mixture of confusion and laughter as Bella pleads for the call. Sadie however shouts from the goal; “That’s not a foul! That’s foreplay!”
Oh, Bella stops and looks at Jacque who shrugs and gives her an ‘I told you so’ look, that’s definitely not what she was expecting.
A few of the other players share similar looks of amusement while some don’t, passing it off as Sadie being her usual self, until the end
huddle when Bella and a few other new call ups introduce themselves to the wider, older group. The ever popular ice breaker.
She tries to make it as subtle as possible. Jacque had made that much clear to her. Sell it because they do know her better than she does. Bella shifts from one foot to the other holding her shin guards in her hands. “So, I’m Bella Liresch. I play forward. I went to the University of Illinois. Played there for a coupla years as well as for the US youth teams-” She clicks her tongue. “Currently living in Toronto with Jacque and just excited to be here, to be honest.”
“Liresch?”
Bella blinks, pretending to have forgotten. “Oh, god. Yeah, I’m married as well.” She grins a little while a few of them mutter. “I’m not Jacque’s sister if that’s what you thought.”
Jacque laughs from beside Carla. “Oh sure, just look at her hair. Totally related.”
Bella flips her ponytail over her shoulder. In the wake of that bombshell, no one asks about her time spent on the US youth teams or how she got to be here.
A few other girls go on after her but Bella is the one that the majority come up to at the end of practice to say ‘hi’ to. Most of them wander over after speaking to Jacque. Whatever her fake wife is saying, she’s selling it completely.
It’s only when they’re back in the car, rolling the windows down despite how cold it is outside the indoor pitch, do they breathe a sigh of relief. “I feel like that went well.” Bella says aloud.
Jacque starts the engine. “Yeah. After you tanked your first shot that is.”
“Can we never speak of that again?” Bella pleads. “Otherwise, I think I nailed it?”
They follow the line of cars that will take them back to the hotel. “A word of advice? You might want to avoid saying that in front of Sadie or Oliv. Just a heads up.”
Bella glances over. “Saying what?”
Jacque smirks and laughs to herself. “Nothing. You’re all good.”
She doesn’t really get what Jacque’s talking about but it gets forgotten because Jacque’s driving and Bella would actually like her to pay attention and get them to the hotel in one piece.
They look like pack mules lugging everything they brought inside once Jacque hands her car off to the hotel valet.
The assistant coaches and rest of the team are waiting in the lobby when they walk in.
Dropping their bags to the floor they stand and wait for everyone else to file in for announcements. Other than the news that there’s a team dinner tonight, Bella zones out until someone mentions room assignments.
“Okay, room allocations,” The assistant reads off a list distractedly. “Olivia and Sadie, you’ve got the first key, then Kathryn and Niav, Carla and Imogen, Jacque and Bella-”
Her heart thumps hopefully only to be quickly shot down as Sadie whistles loudly. “Might want to rethink that one!”
Bella groans at her luck and Oliv nudges her in the ribs. Apparently they’re getting to that level of knowing each other after three hours. “Yeah,” Oliv voices. “Might not be productive letting the married couple room together.”
Jacque bashfully looks anywhere but Bella’s bright red face and the jeers of the team get louder until the allocations are changed. “Alright, Olivia and Bella, Sadie and Jacque-”
“Wait, what?” Sadie protests.
Jacque snorts into her hand unable to control the laughter at the changes. “Oh, good job.”
Sadie grumbles to her side still and when the list moves on, Bella hears Jacque whispers into Sadie’s ear. “Well, y’know, it might not be productive to let the fuck buddies share a room either.”
She gets shoved for that remark.
Getting to the room with Oliv is nerve wracking. On some level she’d known this was bound to happen. Though Jacque had told her to hope that she’d end up with someone a little less intimidating. That’s where Bella has lost out really.
Oliv opens the door for her while Jacque and Sadie disappear down the hall. She almost apologizes for getting her and Sadie split up but she’s not sure that she can really comment on what might be going on there.
“Do you mind taking the right one?” Oliv is already placing her bags down the side of the left bed, the one closest to the door.
“No problem.” Bella doesn’t argue or point out that taking the left bed makes it easier to reach the door. She’ll wake up to the view outside the window on the upside.
“Also, you can’t step on this side of the room.” Oliv continues. “The floor is now lava.”
Bella flinches so suddenly that Oliv can’t even keep up with her own joke. “Wow, okay. Chill, Liresch. Jacque said you’d be nervous but-”
“She thought that?” Bella grimaces at how easily she fell for that. Avoiding Oliv’s gaze, she unpacks a few things and finds something clean to wear for dinner.
Oliv shrugs and pulls her own suitcase onto the bed. “We’ve all been there. Just relax a bit okay? I’m not gonna bite your head off or anything. Despite what we’re like on the field.”
Bella knows that but it’s still nice to hear that she’s not going to wake up in the middle of the night to some sort of hazing ritual involving ice and some form of maple syrup. She relaxes, per instruction, and goes about getting changed.
Despite all of her nerves about getting into camp, it doesn’t occur to her to duck into the bathroom to change so she all but jumps when Oliv whistles loudly when she turns to see Bella taking her shirt off. Somehow Bella forgot in her time away from the national teams that everyone is always looking for the moment to tease or make fun of.
“Well,” Oliv sighs. “-at least you’re pretty to look at, even if your shot isn’t up to scratch yet.”
Bella makes an offended noise that Oliv rolls her eyes at and the rest of their time in the room is spent slowly learning how to get on each other’s nerves in the best way possible. By the time they get the call for dinner, Oliv has already had her in a headlock for insulting her dance moves.
Jacque and Sadie look to be getting on smoother when they meet up to walk down and Bella gratefully hangs back with Jacque, as the other duo powers ahead.
“So?”
Bella rubs her neck. “I think I’ll manage.” She states. “If she doesn’t kill me first.”
Jacque laughs. “At least if she does, our secret will die with you.”
Bella sighs. “You are the worst wife ever.”
*
Their indoor training field in Montreal is a turf one. Bella hadn’t really considered it a problem before she’d been asked to train and play on it for two weeks.
The ball skims quicker, bounces higher and those sliding tackles that defenders love to use to cut her down to the ground have bestowed raw, stinging wounds on her knees and legs. The palms of her hands are also cut to pieces and she’s taken to wearing gloves while they train now.
Training on it is still preferable to braving the freezing outdoor fields though. Bella travels from the bus to the indoor complex bundled up with a scarf covering most of her face and counts the days until they’re on their way to Cyprus.
As the lone ‘American’, this is made fun of at every opportunity.
“We have weather in Illinois.” Bella huffs. “Just not like this.”
She shuffles into the complex, drying the soles of her shoes on the mat, before marching along towards the changing rooms.
It’s a good sign, though. The jokes and the teasing because it means that she’s integrating, past just being Jacque’s wife, that the team is slowly warming up to her. It also helps that since her first practice she’s been nailing her shots just where she wants them to be. Much to the amusement of Oliv.
She’s fitting in personally and professionally and there’s this rumbling feeling in her chest that good things are still on their way.
*
Bella holds the jersey in her hand for a while, just looking at it. It doesn’t feel real. She has a ring on her finger, she lives with Jacque, they’re married- but s
taring down at the Canadian jersey with ‘Ansar’ on the back of it, intended for her, seems unreal.
Like they’ve actually done it.
“You sure that’s yours and not your wife’s?” Bella glances up to see Imogen grinning down at her. “Strange, right?”
Bella nods. “Like you wouldn’t believe.” She runs her hand over the number. Number eight belongs to Carla Ross, so when given the chance, Bella opted for three so she’d at least be standing next to Jacque during the lineups.
It feels a little weird to be looking at ‘Ansar’ after signing ‘Liresch’ on leases and forms and the like for over a year now. But Jacque had suggested it and Bella had been grateful to hang on to something of her former life.
The rest of their teammates had joked that it’d be easier for them not to get mixed up when they were both playing on the field.
Bella runs her hand over the lettering, turning it over in her hands and then touching the Canadian crest. It’s definitely different than she’s used to. The red is bold, bolder than the gold that she last wore for the US, and warm.
“You gonna just stare at it or try it on?” Imogen asks. “Picture day!”
Bella grins and she shrugs out of her shirt to get ready. Everyone files in at their own pace. Jacque is the one who makes a double take when she pulls the jersey over her head, and she’s the only one still looking at her when she finishes getting ready. Her socks are tugged up her shins and shorts adjusted.
By then most of them are ready so Bella goes and sits down next to Jacque while she ties her laces. “What do you think?”
Jacque sits back up and pulls at the sleeve of her jersey. “You look good.”
Out of all the compliments she gets as they walk out onto the practice field to get their pictures taken, that’s the one that has her ducking her head and smiling.
“Alright guys, individual headshots come later so you can fix your hair when this is done.” The photographer jokes. She gets them all to line up in three rows. The shortest at the front, sitting on chairs, while the others line up behind them. Bella can hear a few laughs when she’s sat with Carla on the first row. “Okay, so first just the players. Keepers, can you bunch up in the middle a bit- Alright. On three-”