Page 4 of Jockstraps & Newspapers

Chapter four

Going home only to go to work

Cassiopeia

E verything hurt. Her legs ached from both standing and sitting on the field.

She stopped standing in one place and decided to move about the field.

She met with Renner, Lee, and Tens the medic for the team.

They gave her the layout of the season. Mid-spring, they started practicing.

It would be two weeks of just muscle training and team coordination.

Then, on week three, they started scrimmages.

Their first game was the first Saturday of summer.

This was going to be a full season story. She would be here for three months, minimum. Granted, that was three months of turning in freelance pieces; and King’s Fall Daily paid the highest rate for freelance. But that left her, minimum three months, shackled to the field and to Elliot Bonesaw.

She spent an hour while the team jogged the field, looking him up.

Elliot Bonesaw was ‘King’s Fall’s Darling’.

Everyone liked him. He made interviewers smile, he made cheerleaders giggle, and he made everyone laugh.

Elliot was going to be the death of her.

Every article she read about him, from fan sites to official pieces— likely paid for by Pearson —was frothing with love.

People admired him for his leadership. Readers loved his looks.

Sports fans gushed over his stats. He took this sport seriously, and yet always had a big smile on his face.

How did this even happen? She was lamenting her aching bones and the light sting of her pink cheeks as she climbed off the field.

Cass didn’t even want to walk home, but there was no helping her angry ankles.

Thankfully, she was able to limp her way from portal to portal.

Dragging herself up the stairs to her apartment was dreadful.

“I’m home!” she moaned, shoulder shoving the front door open. Cass nearly collapsed on the other side as she dropped everything in her hands to the floor.

Hungry. Exhausted. Beaten. Cass tried her best to make it to the couch. No dice. She made it to the middle of the living room and dropped to the floor. Spread out along the hard wood, she stared up at the vaulted ceiling.

Confetti exploded over her head from a puny paper cannon. Cass blinked slowly, eyelids sluggishly opening. Lily loomed over her with a broad smile full of sharp teeth and a fist full of paper confetti cannons. “Congrats!”

“Don’t congratulate me,” she cried out, tossing her arms over her eyes.

“Wait, you didn’t get it? Why did you stay out all day if you didn’t get it?” Lily pouted, dropping to her knees beside Cass’s head.

“I kind of got it,” she whined, letting Lily pry her arms open off her face.

And thus, Cassiopeia ranted about her day to her roommate.

Lily, to her credit, sat there nodding and listening to the whole story.

Cass tossed her hands about, explaining how they went to the field, the ridiculous heat, the little she understood about SportsBall…

and Elliot Bonesaw. “He’s the captain, Lily, and Pearson’s a huge fan.

If I don’t do this job well, I’ll never write in this town again. ”

“Did he say that?” Lily cocked a purple brow.

“Nooo,” Cass cried out, “but it’s implied.

Lily, he wants me to do some massive fluff piece on him.

I go in tomorrow to find out all the pieces he wants but this isn’t me.

Look at me! Do I look like a sports anchor?

I’ve never even gone hiking! And they want me to write about a sport that makes zero fucking sense . ”

“I like SportsBall,” Lily whimpered.

“Sorry, sorry, I get it. People like it. It’s popular for a reason. But I wanted to be a serious journalist, Lily. I wanted to write hard-hitting pieces. Things that matter. This…this doesn’t matter.” Cass worked her belt off her waist before struggling to sit up.

“Why wouldn’t this matter?” Lily furrowed her brows, folding her hands in her lap.

“Cause anyone who cares about sports will go to the game, why do I need to rewrite what happened?” However, after the words came out of her mouth, her face fell.

“Yeah, feel pretty goofy after that, don’t you?” Lily retorted.

“Yeah,” she hands rubbed against her tired cheeks.

“I’m cranky, overwhelmed, hungry, and heat exhausted.

I’m taking it out on something before I’ve even given it a chance.

And…like, people like sports for a reason, right?

Just cause it’s not my thing doesn’t mean hundreds of thousands of people don’t enjoy it.

It’s a good thing. Sports are a good thing and I’m just being mean. ”

Lily smiled, rubbing the outside of Cass’s sore biceps. “Besides, look at it this way. You don’t know sports .”

“Right.” Cass dropped her arms, flopping them into Lily’s soothing hands.

“So, you’re going into this fresh. Imagine how amazing it’ll look if you write about something you know nothing about, huh?

I mean, do the research, troll the forums, get on the field, ask all the questions, and write a fanfuckingtastic article!

What better way to show how good of a journalist you are and how adaptable you are, then by writing about something you have to start from scratch with? ” Lily cocked her head to the side.

“You’re right!” Cass clenched her hands into fists.

“Yeah!” Lily cheered.

“And he’s already read and liked my other stuff, so this is the perfect challenge!” Cass fought to sit up again.

“Yeah, it is!” Lily pumped her fists in the air.

“I got this!” Cass burned with glorious determination.

“You got this!” Lily put out a hand that Cass eagerly high-fived.

For a long moment, Cass stared at her roommate. The words spilled out of her mouth. “Holy cow, you’re good.”

“Thank you,” Lily popped the collar of her polo and smiled proudly. “Normally I charge ten silver for a hype session, but for you, babycakes, it’s on the house.”

Cass climbed to her feet, engulfing the barely standing Lily in a hug.

The siren pulled her in tight and rubbed her back.

Lily was a therapist. Usually, she did therapy in local saltwater pools or in the man-made lake in central park during the summer.

Cass knew her friend was a good talker, easy to work with, and a fantastic communicator, but seeing it worked on her was amazing.

She felt inspired. Hyped. Ready to go…until the fatigue set in, and her body reminded her she spent eight hours on a field in a pencil skirt and push-up bra.

“First I need to refuel, then I need to sleep.” Cass ran her fingers through her hair.

Her curls needed a wash and she wasn't looking forward to standing for another moment.

She'd have to just survive with crusty curls another day.

Not that anyone would notice. First, aloe vera, next, food, then sleep.

Shuffling through the apartment, she'd have to make it up to Lily for putting all her clothes away.

Cass ripped her clothes off, donned a tank-top and shorts, and drenched the back of her neck and cheeks in aloe vera.

Then, she dumped cold leftover noodles with chicken and broccoli into a bowl and shoveled it in her mouth.

The idea of bringing anything hot near her face was agonizing.

After throwing the dishes into the dishwasher and wishing her roommate a good night, she crawled into bed.

M orning came viciously early. Prying herself out of bed, Cass did her best not to complain too loudly.

Lily was off today, and she deserved all the rest she could get.

Cass plopped herself in the shower and made the grave mistake of washing her hair.

Without a second braincell to correct her behavior, she washed and conditioned her hair while scrubbing off the caked-on grime of her body.

Then, painstakingly did her best to dry it without noise.

Cassiopeia Darling, for the first time in a long time, wished she'd been born a caster like her sister.

Andromeda was a realm class healer with awards to her name.

She'd cured an ailing prince in the Maylor Kingdom, been shipped off to the Badlands to help heal an allied group of adventurers, and was a proud member of the emergency healer's guild.

And Cassiopeia was hoping that she could get away with a mop of damp curls in a ponytail.

To give herself extra luck, she pulled out a bandana and tied it in a bow over her head, keeping all her curls contained behind her head.

Likely gonna be on the field again, best not worry too much about hair.

She'd learned her lesson. Instead, opting for thin slacks that were breathable, a silk camisole under an easily unbuttoned blouse, and her prettiest hiking boots.

She didn't own sneakers. When she glanced in the mirror, smearing sunscreen on her cheeks this time, she repeated her mantra.

"You got this. You can write this. You're a realm class journalist."

Chanting it in her head all the way to the coffee pot then out the door.

However, as she was leaving, she did order lunch for her roommate, a small appeasement.

A ‘ forgive me for being kind of a fuckwit about SportsBall and leaving you with a giant mess’ gift.

Lily's favorite food was spicy anything. If it was garlic and fish, even better.

She hiked down the steps, considering taking her car this time.

When she rounded the rust bucket of her car, however, she decided against it.

Despite how on fire her calves were, she didn't know how long or how far she was going today. Best not chance the death trap. When she was a rich and famous journalist, the first thing—other than hanging the writers award in her parents’ house—would be to buy a new car.

One that didn't break down if you blew on it too hard, definitely.

Opting for a tote bag today, a water bottle, her notepad, her crystalpad, and her bottle of sunscreen, she strode into the early morning light.

Cass couldn't help but soak in the sharp breeze of wind.

Even though the air was frosty, the warmth of the sun rising over the treetops left her in that perfect middle ground.

A blessing and a curse, the wind had started to dry her curls.

They were bouncy as she came out of her second portal next to King's Fall Daily.

The curse was she caught her reflection in the shiny windows of the building.

The mixture of her naturally pink cheeks, blonde ringlets, and the bandana, from the collar up she looked like the model of the latest cover of Cutsey Farm Babes!

"Well… these are the lumps you take for washing your damn hair, Cassiopeia," She hissed to herself, stomping up the steps to the lobby. The receptionist peeked up and gasped. Cass froze in her step.

"Oh, my, word!" The receptionist, Tilly according to her name tag, swooned. Two hands clasped to the side of her gorgon cheek, all her red scaled, corn snake hairs sighed and hissed dreamily. "You're so cute!"

Fuck. My. Life. Cass laughed sheepishly, striking a goofy pose with her tongue out for a second. "It's the curls, they get me every time."

"I love them, you look just like that actress in that one movie about the cowboy from Thistlewhip!

" Tilly wiggled enthusiastically before waving her over with flapping hands.

"Come, come, let's get you checked in. I just, I saw those curls and thought they were so cute.

I bet everyone talks about how pretty you are, huh? "

Cass didn't want to be pretty. Or cute. Or some model on display.

She wanted to be taken seriously. Her heart sank in her chest as Tilly rambled on and on about how cute she looked in that baby voice everyone gave her.

Infantilizing at its best. She tried not to grimace or to take it too hard to heart.

People thought it was a compliment. But, as Tilly gave her a badge and baby-talked her how to get up to Mr. Pearson's office, she could see all the other people in the lobby glance at her.

That's when the nasty doubt set in. Feeling their eyes on her, she imagined them snickering to themselves.

That's the journalist? She ought to be out taking selfies at coffee shops!

Look at that baby face! Awww, isn't she so cute?

Cass did her best not to snatch the badge fully from Tilly.

"Yeah, thanks, I know where it is; I remember from yesterday. "

Tilly waved at her and wished her good luck.

Cass got to the shimmering silver doors of the elevator and nearly collapsed.

How embarrassing. She saw her wavering reflection in the silver.

Could I just go bald? Would that make it worse or better?

I could shave it, right? Ideas of flattening her hair were shot down by the ache in her arms. She'd barely survived a day on the field yesterday, she did not have the mental fortitude to straighten her hair and keep it that way for days.

Her resolve was weakening as she stepped inside the elevator.

Thankfully, alone, she sank against the wall and let out a heavy sigh.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry . She swallowed a hard lump in her throat.

"This is why I need a corner office…people don't treat you like a kid when you're an award-winning journalist," she snarled, ready to snap.

To her family, she was invisible. Overshadowed by her regal older sisters and outmatched by the selflessness of her younger sisters, she was see-through.

To strangers on the street, she was some cute little fairy needing her cheeks pinched. A short, curly-haired Fae who was too cute to take seriously.

As the doors to the elevator dinged, she scraped what little pride and resolve she had left.

It's gonna be fine. She took a deep breath in as the doors slid open.

You can do this. Stepping out into the hall, she squared her shoulders.

They'll respect you when you've got awards on your shelf and your face in the paper.