Page 41 of Entangled With You

Saturday night, I joined the team at our usual hotel for the night before home games. Stefa grilled me all night for details about my hot, mystery man.

“Why are you so secretive about this guy? Is he a bad guy?”

I almost choke on my saliva at the thought that flashed through my mind. Mati is a very bad guy–between the sheets.

“Nah, it’s just new and I don’t want to jinx it,” I tell her instead, but she doesn’t seem too convinced.

“Wait a minute, did you meet him on the app I downloaded on your phone?” I grin at her, and she screams into her pillow. “No way. What are the odds? I guess I better download that app, too.” I move my shoulder up and down as I give her a smirk. Maybe she’ll find a hot guy too. “How are you feeling about tomorrow? Are you ready?” She changes topics, and I’m thankful because I don’t enjoy lying, and it doesn’t come easy either.

Releasing a breath, I answer. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. It’s the biggest game of the season so far, and all I want to do is to be in sync with the team so we can pull a win. But it’s going to be tough. We’ve become the team to beat, and the Lionesses are going to go out tomorrow to the pitch looking for blood.” Stefa nods at my words, we all know we’ve become the team to beat, and sadly it isn’t only for our performance on the pitch; it’s also, in part, due to the articles Romina keeps writing about us.

“Are you going to ask Coach to let you join the press conference? I know he’s been against it in the past.”

Releasing a long breath, I think about how to answer this. I don’t want to come across as a spoiled rich girl who’s not getting her way, but I also really want to confront Romina and put an end to her lies once and for all.

“I honestly don’t know. I’m going to ask him, because that’s the least I can do. If he says no, I’ll just be open to answer any questions from the media on our way out. Somebody would want to hear it from me, right?” Stefa doesn't meet my eyes at my question, and a sinking feeling takes place in my gut. Who the hell is Romina? Not even Melissa, the woman in charge of the team’s PR, could help me out.

Matías

Buen día, mi ángel. You don’t need luck, but I’ll be at the game today sending all the good vibes.

I grin as I read Mati’s good morning message. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of his thoughtfulness.

“Good morning, sunshine. Time to go win a game,” Stefa says as she comes out of the bathroom ready to go.

I guess I overslept, but the cramps this month are a little stronger than usual. I wonder if it’s because I’m sexually active now? I’m going to have to do a Google search later; I don’t have time to think about anything other than the game right now. Our match today is at noon since the men’s team is playing at five this afternoon. Who’s responsible for scheduling the matches? Who knows. But they should do a better job keeping our games from overlapping. I’m really looking forward to playing in our own stadium, but Mati mentioned it’d take at least eighteen months, if not longer before that’s possible.

When we arrive at the stadium, a burst of adrenaline runs through my body. It’s a beautiful sunny day, and people are already in the stands. I guess playing earlier in the day isn’t so bad after all. I’ve wanted to add Mati to my friends and family list, but since we’re a secret, he said it was best not to. Plus, he didn’t mind buying his own ticket to come see me. I hope everything goes smoothly today since my sister is coming with Franco, and I didn’t tell her about Mati and me being together now. I wanted to enjoy this week just the two of us, without other people weighing in on our relationship.

After warm-up, Coach gathers us in a circle for our last pep talk before the game. “Listen, Warriors. Everything you’ve achieved this season, from creating a strong team that’s hard to beat, to tight friendships that will last you a lifetime, this game can be the cherry on top for a beautiful campaign. Or it can be a demonstration that you’re not as good as you say you are. Go on that pitch, and show the Lionesses and everyone else watching who you are and what you are made of. Pay no mind to small hits; don’t fall into their tactics. Especially you, Cata. They are known for being avid readers of Bleacher’s Pulse.” Coach looks me directly in the eyes, and I nod at him. I won’t let them get a rise out of me. “They want you to make the first mistake, but you’re smarter than that. You all have worked hard to be on top. You deserve this.” Coach ends his speech, and Noelia motions for everyone to put their hands together.

“Mess with a Warrior,” she shouts.

“Deal with her tribe!” we all roar in response, and the fans go bonkers.

This game is as physical as I expected it to be. The other team is straight out going for blood instead of trying to get the ball. I guess it’s their way of trying to break us so they can control the game. Too bad for them, Coach had us watch tapes on the Lionesses until our eyes went dry; we know their MO well.

All we have to do is keep the ball under our feet and avoid falling for their tricks. It takes a lot of effort for me to let go whenever someone kicks my leg or my ankle, or steps on my foot, instead of playing the ball. These bitches are trying to get me mad so the ref can give me a yellow card, or even a red one, and take me out of the game altogether. But what they don’t know is that there’s a quiet and sweet man in the bleachers who follows my every move, and that gives me all the peace I need to keep playing.

We go to halftime without scoring, and I can tell everyone on the team is frustrated. We are restless, and we want to win this game in front of our fans, but desperation won’t help us do that. “We need to be smarter than the Lionesses. So far, we’ve been doing a good job not falling into their game, but that doesn’t mean we need to let them hit us with everything they’ve got. We need to open the field, try to find spaces where they aren’t expecting us. Maybe everyone needs to shoot to try to score. Don’t wait for me or Sasha to be open. We’ve practiced hard this week. We can do this,” Noelia tells us in the locker room, and this gives me a new mindset. I won’t try to filter the ball to her anymore. I’m going to try to score.

The second half starts, and we all try to open the field, passing the ball from one side to the other, but it’s not working. These girls came to defend, not to win a game, and that pisses me off. No shame in that as a defensive strategy, but the reason we play is to win, at least that’s true for us Warriors. Taking the ball from one of their midfielders, I dart off toward their arch. I lift my gaze as three Lionesses rush toward me. I turn in place, searching for teammates, but I find none of them close enough to pass. I spread my arms and form a shield with my body, making it harder for the others to take the ball from me.

“Just quit already and go back to Colombia, bitch,” one of them says. I keep pressing the ball down with my right foot, just focusing on the game, and not letting her words get to me.

“You need to quit while you still can, bitch,” another one says, and that sinking feeling I had before grows.

Are they talking about the game or about Romina and her articles? The distraction is enough for one of them to push me forward. I fall on top of the ball, hitting my abdomen. I wince in pain, and finally, the ref blows the whistle, stopping the game. One of the players falls on top of me, and I see stars at the pain in my middle, tears pooling in my eyes.

“Stop it. Get up, Thirteen. Right now,” I hear the ref say, and once the player gets up, I’m finally able to breathe again.

“But ref, she made me fall. Show her a yellow card,” I hear the player say, and I see fucking red. What is she even talking about? With a lot of effort, I finally get on my feet as I see Noelia and Stefa coming to stand by my side.

“I’m going to let it pass because the game needs to continue. But next time I see you pulling one of these bullshit plays, Thirteen, I’m showing you a yellow card,” the ref says in a stern tone. Thirteen murmurs, “Whatever,” and goes to her side of the field.

“Are you okay?” Noelia asks, her expression hard as stone.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I reply as I rub my stomach and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “Let’s show these bitches how the Warriors fight,” I say as I position the ball to restart the game.