Page 40

Chapter 40

Team Bonding

Robyn

T he first crack of lightning has everyone booking it for the house and clamoring for the showers. By the time everyone makes it back to the spacious living room in their loungewear and wet hair, the late afternoon has turned into early evening, and darkness from the storm settles over everything.

I don’t care that it’s still warm outside, it’s dark and rainy and I’m in the mood for a fire—albeit electric. Flipping the switch on the wall, the flames erupt in the fireplace and I sit down on one of the large chairs with a cup of tea.

“God, that was fun,” Serwaa says as she enters the living room and sits next to me on the couch. “Getting the sand out of my hair, not so much.”

Toni follows in, braiding her damp brunette hair to the side. “I feel like my whole body has been exfoliated.”

“Coach still in the shower?” Serwaa asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “He was waiting for everyone else to finish first.”

“Well this is cute as shit,” Mo says. She takes a seat next to Toni and cuddles into her. “Are we having sleepover girl talk?”

“Obviously,” I smile, extending my leg to show off my billowing stretchy pants. “I’m wearing my conversation pants.”

“There’s a hole in the crotch,” Serwaa deadpans.

“They’re well-loved.”

“Easier access for Roger,” Toni teases in that brighter-than-sunshine way of hers.

“Who has Roger right now?”

Skirt raises her hand as she strides into the room wearing, of course, a baby blue tennis skirt and matching top. “Me. Y’all don’t… use it, right?”

Toni gasps. “Roger is a very private dildo. He/they don't like to disclose that kind of information.”

Skirt simply studies all of us before finally saying, “Ew.”

“Can we order pizza tonight?” Serwaa asks everyone. “My period started and I’m in need of warm, cheezy carbs.”

“Oh my god, we’re cycle-sisters,” Khaos sings while entering the room and pulling out their phone. “I’ll order for delivery.”

A fresh and clean Isaiah finally joins us looking relaxed, and he takes the last open chair across the room from me.

“You good with pizza, Coach?” Toni asks without looking up from her phone.

“Great. Let me pay for it though, as a thank you for letting me crash your vacation.”

“Not stopping you there,” she smiles.

“Boy, it’s really coming down out there,” he muses.

“I love the rain,” Skirt sighs, braiding her platinum blonde hair. “Reminds me of home.”

“Where’s that?” he asks 1 .

“Seattle. My old team used to play in the rain all the time,” she says with fondness. “Some of my favorite memories took place in the rain.”

“Like what?” he asks, and my heart gives a little pitter-patter at him asking more questions.

“Like,” she drawls, looking off into her mind. “When I was a little girl, maybe six or seven years old, I remember my dad carrying me on his shoulders as he ran through the rain to get to our minivan that was parked really far away.” She pauses a moment, still thinking of the memory. “I have no idea where we were coming from, but I remember us laughing and holding onto him tight. I never want to forget that.”

“That’s cute,” Serwaa smiles.

“What about you, Serwaa?” he asks. “What’s a memory you never want to forget?”

My bestie looks off in her mind for a minute before humming through a smile. “I never want to forget the way my nana’s house smelled back in Ghana. Like a medley of jollof rice, fufu, and light soup. To this day, whenever I miss her, I’ll make it myself just to feel like I’m there again.”

My mouth waters at the thought and I groan. “I love your cooking.” I could swim in that tomatoey chili pepper broth.

“Is she not around anymore?” he asks her.

“No. She died about five years ago. I still have family there, but no one’s home smells the same.”

“Sounds like a team potluck is in order,” he says.

“What about you, Coach?” I ask. “What’s a memory you never want to forget?”

Isaiah’s dark blue eyes find mine for a brief moment before turning to the window beside him where raindrops cling. “I remember this one time when my mom was still alive, we were all packed into our bathroom because there was a tornado warning in effect. I was maybe eight. Yeah, eight, because she died soon after that. Anyway, all of us kids were in our pajamas and I remember being confused about the siren going off, so my mom sang to us. My dad joined in.”

“Do you remember what song they sang?” I ask.

He thinks for a minute, his brow furrowing, but then he chuckles. “You know, I never realized how on-the-nose it was until now, but they were singing “My Favorite Things” from The Sound of Music. ”

“Your mom died when you were a kid?” Khaos asks. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. Our family was… pretty broken for a while.”

I’m a little stunned he’s opening up like this. Sure, he showed me this side of him back in the day, but I quickly found out he doesn’t do that for many people—almost no one, in fact. Even Angie has a hard time knowing what’s going on in his brain sometimes. What did Dell do to him? Because the man before me—looking like he has no better place to be than here with all of us around a crackling fireplace and the white noise of summer rain—is showing himself.

His real self.

“She died in a car accident shortly after that. She was driving my baby sister Ivy back from a doctor’s appointment when she was hit. Only Ivy survived.”

There’s a collective inhale and Serwaa says, “Jesus.”

“Dad was… in a bad place for a long time. My older sister Angie basically raised us. Her and our friends’ moms who lived close by.”

“Hold up,” Skirt says. “Do you mean multiple friends’ moms from multiple homes, or someone who has two moms? Moms plural?”

“Lesbians?” Khaos gasps.

Isaiah nods. “Christina and Ana, yes.”

Khaos clutches her heart and leans against Serwaa. “He was practically raised by lesbians!”

Isaiah chuckles. “They fed us, watched us. I know Spanish because of them.”

“You know Spanish?” I ask. “I didn’t know that.”

“ Sí, hablo espanol. Más que simplemente pedir comida también. ”

Okay, suddenly my undercarriage tightens and I need to hear him speak Spanish quietly in my ear. I don’t care what he says. He could tell me he has a hernia and needs to seek medical attention, but as long as it’s murmured into the shell of my ear, I’ll dissolve.

“You okay over there, Birdie?” Serwaa asks, pulling me back to the conversation happening outside of my brain.

“Oh,” I stammer. “Yeah. I’m just hungry is all.”

She narrows her eyes on me. “Yeah I bet you are.”

“Anyone want a beer?” I ask, quickly making my way to the kitchen. Everyone chimes in and Serwaa joins me by the fridge.

“You doing okay?” she whispers as we stand in front of the open door, the artificial light and chilly air a welcome distraction.

I grab four beers. “I’m fine.”

Serwaa looks over her shoulder to the living room and back at me. “Hey. I won’t say anything if you want something to happen with him. Okay? I’ll take it to my grave.”

“I know.”

“I understand why there’s a rule against coaches dating players, but… you two have known each other so long.”

“Serwaa, I kissed him,” I blurt.

“You did?” she hisses. “When?”

“Last week.”

“Wait, what about your trainer?”

“I kissed him, too. We all kissed. And a lot more happened.” Serwaa’s eyes widen. “We’re all trying to figure out how to make us work. Like, the three of us. But I still don’t know how we can. With the team, with the Olympics, with the brand deals,” I shrug. “I’ll be eaten alive.”

“And Dell and Isaiah are… what to each other?”

“Deliriously happy and in love. Also trying to figure this out with me.”

“Holy shit. I thought Dell was just helping you with flirting.”

“He was. It turned into way more.” I lean in closer. “Serwaa, he fucked me against a yoga ball in his gym while Isaiah watched.”

Eyes dilating, my bestie bites her lip. “Fuck, that’s hot,” she whispers.

“I know.”

“So you and Isaiah haven’t…” she trails off.

“No. Nothing more than kissing and some naked shower hugs.”

“Is that a euphemism?”

I chuckle, “No. Literally.”

“This is huge, Birdie! He likes you! You’ve been worried for years that he didn’t.”

Way more than she knows. I probably don’t need to tell her about the obsessive way he’s been watching me. Would that be a huge red flag to most people? Yes. But oh god, I love it.

I swallow and nod. “Oh, he likes me alright.”

Serwaa glances over her shoulder again where Isaiah is talking to Mo about something we can’t hear from in the kitchen. “He’s doing really good with the team right now. I can feel everyone opening up to him.”

“I know. I’m so happy you guys are seeing what I’ve always seen.”

She looks back at me. “I think you need to go for it, babe. Sneak around if you have to. If you want to make it public, I’ll be here fighting for you too. I’m with you.”

With you —those two words carry a heavy weight in rugby. It might be the most common phrase heard on a pitch. When you’re running the ball, you can know you’re not alone when you hear “with you” hollered by a teammate who’s close enough to ruck over you if need be, or is ready for you to offload the ball to them.

With you is support when you need it most.

Wrapping my arms around my best friend with beers still in hand, she returns the hug. “I love you,” I whisper. “I’m always with you, too. ”

Serwaa and I make it back to the group in the living room and pass out the beers. Khaos is talking about the memory she never wants to forget: making brownies with her cousin and aunt and the way her uncle would sneak his finger in the batter.

“What about you, Robyn?” My coach asks before taking a sip of his beer.

I never want to forget the way he tastes. I never want to forget the moment our tables turned and he admitted he’s been watching me—wanting me—all these years. But now’s not the time so say those things aloud, huh?

Probably not.

“I want to remember laying on the living room floor surrounded by candy with my family after trick-or-treating. My mom has always harped on me for what I eat, ever since I could remember. But for some reason, Halloween was always an exception. She’d sit there with me and we’d eat as much as we wanted. I’d give her all the disgusting candies like Almond Joy or plain Hersey’s bars. I would sort and take inventory. Dad would try to steal a Twix or Reese’s cup, which was a crime in my book—punishable by clawing and wrestling for it back.” I release a deep sigh. “But on Halloween, my mom was fun, and I never want to forget those nights.”

The look on all the girls’ faces tells me they know all too well what it’s like to have a mom like that. Everyone takes a sip of their beer.

“What about you, Toni?” I ask. “What memory do you want to hold onto forever?”

Toni sits up from their position cuddled against Mo. “My friend and I used to play this drinking game when we were younger, where we’d sing the lyrics to songs we mostly knew. If you screwed up the lyrics, you had to take a drink. So the more you drank, the harder it was to sing the words correctly, and thus the circle of drunkenness continued,” they laugh. “God, we were dumb. But I don’t think I’ve ever laughed harder.”

All at once, an idea pops up and begs me to release it. “You know,” I drawl, pressing the power button to the TV and grabbing my phone, “Coach here has some experience singing.”

Every muscle in his face drops. “Robyn,” he warns.

“That’s right,” I smile, tapping away until I find what I’m looking for. I mirror my phone screen to the TV and queue up the video. “Our coach once had a budding musical career in his family band, Agony Nectar.”

“Wait!” Khaos gasps. She stands for a better look. “This is awesome.”

“Guys,” Isaiah pleads. “We weren’t that good. Look, there’s only seven hundred views in ten years! I wouldn’t say—”

“We are so watching this,” Toni beams. “Press play!”

The video is grainy, the way digital videos used to be, but young Isaiah is unmistakable. It’s a cover of “ In One Ear” by Cage the Elephant and these guys are dressed the part. Isaiah’s hair is almost shoulder-length, and he’s wearing a flannel long sleeve and tight jeans. Dane’s in even tighter ones and sporting a plain black T-shirt. All I can see from Jonah is a yellow band tee of some kind, blonde hair flying every which way as he hammers away. And Joaquín’s in an oversized zip-up hoodie with bright blue Converse.

“Where is this?” Serwaa asks.

“My basement,” he sighs.

“And who’s with you?”

“That’s my brother Jonah on the drums. I’m on bass, my other brother Dane is singing, and our friend Joaquín is on electric guitar.”

“I love this song!” Mo shouts over the volume.

Skirt shakes her head. “I’ve never heard it.”

He groans, “How old are you?”

“Twenty two. ”

“Oh god,” he groans harder.

“Let’s go, brother!” I cheer in my best Hulk Hogan voice. To encourage him more, I launch into the rock song I’ve heard a hundred times—specifically this version. When everyone joins in, I turn the volume up all the way. We’re screaming the lyrics and dancing when I extend my hand to him. With a reluctant smile, he takes it in his and stands up, belting the tune and pretending to play his bass. He’s lashing forward along with me as I throw up my devil’s horns on my left hand.

I wish someone was recording this moment right now. A bunch of rugby players rocking out in a vacation home that looks like it was created by the set designer for a Nancy Meyers movie.

Agony Nectar can fuck, I’ll give them that. They’re not great, but damn, do they rock. Isaiah is just as into it now as he looks then. I wonder when the last time he picked up his bass was. When was the last time he played with his brothers? When was the last time he let it all go like that?

Watching all us ancients rock out to a totally foreign song, Skirt peels with laughter on the couch. She takes over the remote and runs away from Isaiah when he tries to take it away from her. He gives up and lets her play song after song from his basement punk band.

When one of us messes up a lyric, Toni commands us to take a drink. By the time our pizza is delivered, we’re deep into Agony Nectar’s discography. I’ve listened to these songs so much that I haven't even finished my first beer. Skirt and Serwaa, on the other hand, know almost no lyrics and are drunkenly thanking the pizza delivery girl for being the kindest, most beautiful soul in the world and urging her to play rugby. Isaiah pays and apologizes for his players with a smile.

1. A Real Hero by College & Electric Youth