Chapter Text
“Hey, Tobin!”
The brunette raises her head as she hears her coach yelling from across the pitch. She throws her water bottle back into the holder, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of an equally sweaty arm.
“Yea coach, what’s up?” Tobin asks as she finishes her sprint to Abby on the other side of the pitch. Abby crosses her arms, waiting for Tobin to regain her breathing before speaking.
“Your buddy Press hasn’t been here for three sessions now. It’s a bad look, have you seen her?” Abby cuts to the chase. Christen has not been at practice for 3 sessions, missing crucial development minutes and scrimmages. It seems unlike her, if Abby had to admit. She hates seeing these stories of young players disappear. It’s always home life more often than not. New foster homes. Not enough money for rec levels. Homelessness. Disapproving parents. And Abby has no idea where Christen falls on that scale.
“No coach. Saw her last practice, she was here. She wouldn’t willingly avoid practice. That’s not Christen.” Tobin urges Abby to not jump to conclusions. “Her parents are like, really tough on her…”
Abby raises an eyebrow at the player, crossing her arms. “Care to elaborate on that Heath?” she questions with authority.
Tobin’s face pales, her hand rubbing at the back of her neck. She moves closer to Abby, brown eyes looking down. “Um I don’t think they know about the team. Or that she’s still here. Maybe they found out. She hasn’t paged me or called the house.”
Abby smacks her hand to her forehead in exasperation. She had other players to focus on as they moved towards San Diego. “She told me they knew.”
Tobin scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Well she lied. Not surprising though. They tried to get her to return the cleats she bought and everything. Maybe I should go see—”
Abby shakes her head, hand on Tobin’s shoulder. She gives a sad smile to the player. “Tobin, you’ve done enough. I’m going to handle this. Trust me okay?”
Tobin nods, nothing more to say as she jogs to the locker room.
-
“It’s good. You need to make gyros on the grill next time dear.” Cody says between moans as he eats lunch that Stacy prepared. Christen is poking at her plate, staring at wild rice.
Between the munching their bell rings. Channing pops up, eager to open it. She glances up at a tanned, bleach blonde with cropped hair.
“Hi I’m here for Christen.” Abby says curtly, eyes glancing into the home as Channing steps back. She eyes the family photos hanging in the hallway, and the intricate pieces of art as well. Hand woven mandalas and carved serenity statements.
Channing shouts out to the kitchen for her sister, identical curls bouncing as she turns her head.
“Chrissy it’s for you!”
Channing gets a smack on the side of her head by Christen as she heads to the front door. Hands settle on her hips, eyes look up to coach Wambach. The coach chuckles dryly, “Chrissy, that’s a new one.”
Christen sighs at the comment. She takes time to glare at Channing one more time before letting Abby into the foyer. “Coach, it’s great to see you and all—-”
“Save it. Mr and Mrs Press, I am so sorry to barge in on you during your lunch but I came to discuss your daughter’s place on my soccer team. If that’s alright,” Abby interjects, going to address Christen’s parents who had just risen from the table. Cody gestures to the living room couch, letting Abby sit across from them in a lounge chair.
“We asked her to quit the team weeks ago. Was that not communicated to you?” He asks Abby with a hint of annoyance in his voice. The blonde takes a short breath as the pieces click into place about Christen.
Strict parents.
Christen’s head sinks into her hands. Her heart is racing at this point. She hates this. She hates that Abby did a house call. She hates that her parents are going to be asked about sports they just don’t want her in. Kind of even hates that Tobin roped her into this in the first place— she could be happy watching Beckham and leave it at that. And most of all? Christen hates that she knows her parents will get their way. They usually do.
“No. Christen hasn’t told me she quit, just not showing up for practice. And truthfully, respectfully I think that it’s a big mistake to not want her to play.” Abby says as she pushes back a longer strand of hair from her eyes. She leans forward with passion, hoping to get through to these parents.
“A mistake?” Cody scoffs, shaking his head. “No it’s a mistake to let her think she can play like any other girl out there!”
Abby’s brows furrow at Cody’s comment. She was truly getting concerned for Christen, and hoping that she was allowed to do anything as her own person.
“Sir, I can assure you that Christen actually plays better than half the girls on my team. She’s actually, god she has talent.” Abby explains. Her eyes go wide and a tinge of a smile dances across her lips like wild fire as she imagines what Christen’s future in soccer could be if her parents stopped putting their feet down at the doors to the sport. “That’s why I’m here. To ask for your permission, to ask for you to let Christen keep playing. We’re getting close to tournaments and the team needs her. I want to keep coaching your daughter because I see a future for her.”
Abby’s earnestness gains a moment of trust with Cody. He smiles to himself, feeling a sense of pride and joy. It’s soured moments later as Cody comes to his senses, memories of his own soccer experience flooding his mind.
“Coach, listen to me. I know you mean well, and this team must be really good. But soccer isn’t a place for girls like Christen, and it wasn’t a place for men like me.” Cody bites out with a heavy breath. He leans forward, elbows on the table.
Abby raises a brow, lips pursed as she tries to come to terms with what Cody revealed. She gently places her hand on his, looking into heavy brown eyes.
“I will always make sure soccer is a place for everyone. I am so sorry that it hasn’t been a space for you. I truly am. I don’t pretend to know what it’s like for you, but I can tell you I’ve had to fight for my own space a lot. As a woman.” Abby says honestly. Her left hand runs through ruffled, cropped blonde hair.
Cody nods. He pokes at his plate, and watches Christen’s face fall at the movement because she knows that he’s going to let her down. She can see it in the wrinkles on his forehead and the twinge of his cheek.
“I played soccer from middle to highschool and between the two I moved cities. Before I was in a neighbourhood that looked like me-- like us--” Cody gestures to his family and lets his shoulders sag. “I was on the road to being a gatorade all star, I was winning every state championship. My team was the real deal. But then I moved and it was just wiped away. Everyone was white and I got on the team...as a bag boy. I was treated like dirt. And when I did eventually play? Forgive me but it was more than just telling me to go pick cotton, and yes it was hard r. So I don’t want Christen in this space where she can be picked apart.”
Christen gulps at her father’s admission. She pictures him at 16 all arms and legs with his fresh fade and bright smile. And all of that taken away. All due to the color of his skin.
Abby leans forward, wringing her hands at the new information. “Mr. Press, Cody- there’s more opportunity now--”
“There isn’t a black boy in the major soccer leagues here, don’t kid yourself. They won’t tolerate our girls in there either.” Cody is firm with a finger wag at Abby. “I don’t want you to get Christen’s hopes up and she suffers like I did.”
Christen interjects with her arms crossed over her chest sullenly, “Dad but look at Patrice Evra at United. He’s winning the league!” Maybe it’s a bit petulant at this point but she really doesn’t care anymore.
“That’s england Mo, it’s not the same as it is here.”
Cody’s voice was final. Christen gets up to walk Abby back out to her car, to get a moment alone without her family hovering. Although she knows most likely Channing was watching out her bedroom window like the nosy little shit she was--
“We have the game in San Diego this weekend. It’s a shame you’ll miss it.” Abby says curtly, unlocking her doors. Christen frowns, remembering how she promised Tobin she would go. “I know this is hard to be up against. I do. But your parents don’t know what’s best for you always, and sometimes you have to leave the nest, Chris.”
Abby leaves Christen on her curb with a wave.
-
“Fine. I will cover for you like we talked about but only if you do the dishes for a month after. And Mom’s really getting into creative cooking so have fun with that.” Tyler grumbles as she swings around next to the coach bus that’s loading up all of the Pali Blues players to head to San Diego in.
“I will call every two days if not sooner. Don’t let mom talk to Arlie. She’s supposed to be on a journey of silence.” Christen promises while slinging her backpack over her shoulder and running to hand her luggage to Abby who’s standing shell shocked outside the bus. Tyler drives off, leaving the two standing there until the bus driver honks.
“You coming on kid?” The driver asks while Christen’s eyes meet Abby’s.
“I’m supposed to be with my aunt and cousins. Tyler is covering for me.” She explains while standing on the bottom bus step. Abby sighs and shakes her head.
“I heard nothing.” The coach says nonchalantly, walking up into the bus and to her seat at the front while Christen zips down to the only row with an empty seat. Tobin’s row.
“Do you need a bus buddy?” Christen asks, softly poking the brunette curled up into the window seat. Tobin’s eyes go wide as she startles herself seeing Christen after two weeks of no contact.
“Chris?! I can’t believe you came! How-- when-- where have you been?!” All of Tobin’s questions jumbled into one while she reached out to hug Christen. The younger player sits down with a slight chuckle at Tobin’s eagerness. She had to admit she missed Tobin too though, maybe more than she thought she did. Christen missed the way she had a passing buddy at practice, the way Tobin always got jelly on her cheek while eating her pb&j snack at break, and how she would make her laugh.
“I’m supposed to be at my Aunt’s but Tyler is covering for me. Something in her changed. Don’t ask me how. It’s going to become an urban legend of the big sister.” Christen shakes her head with a sigh while Tobin breaks into a full fit of chuckles.
“We missed you Chris. I missed you. Let’s kick ass in San Diego.”
-
The team arrives pretty early in the day with just enough time to walk around the hotel, the city square, and get some dinner. Team dinner is something Christen also missed although she would never admit it. The way Yuki would narrate stories about the meals, and Casey would pretend her breadstick was a sword with Tobin. Speaking of Tobin…
The game has started and the poor winger is already bruised up from taking fouls.
“Ref! Aren’t you gonna call that!?” Christen screams after she watches Tobin get a cleat to the knee with 0 ball touch on it. The opposing team around her scoffs, rolling their eyes as their passing gets interrupted by the ref. Tobin pulls herself up, brushing off the dirt. The ref decides to continue play but with Pali Blue possession. Christen feels like her lungs are burning as she makes strides up and down the line. Yuki gets a ball in off of one of her crosses and they celebrate like it's the world cup. Rain opens up on the field, blurring vision and sending mud spraying up their kits.
1-1
Diego Lions get a touch on the ball in the third and send it rocketing to goal for an equalizer. Pali Blues aren’t too confident about their next course of action. They’ve been working on a tactic with Shirley holding the ball in mid and Lindsey as a false 9 to get ahead for a cross but Christen can’t seem to keep possession for the life of her.
The ball is torn from her feet again with a fierce move from the girl wearing jersey number 13. Christen can’t see the name through the rain dripping down her forehead. She can’t see much of anything which is why when a defender challenges her in the box she goes down without a second glance.
“In the box, it’s a PK.” Ref walks over to let her know, offering a hand to help her up to her feet. Christen’s stomach drops. Penalty kicks ? They weren’t prepared. She hadn’t gone over—-
It dawns on Christen as the ref draws a white line in the pitch to mark her starting spot. As she glances at the wall in front of her and her teammates, she remembers that the past 2 weeks had penalty kicks as the primary focus in case of well tonight. Except Christen never showed up those two weeks because of her extraordinary load of work for Tyler’s wedding that may or may not still be happening. And with her parents watching her like a hawk, it was hard to slip out to practice.
Casey leans over gripping Christen’s shoulder with a clammy hand. “We believe in you, kick ass Press!”
Her eyes trail past Casey, to a fellow winger with socks as low as they could possibly go. Tobin looks up from the grass for a moment, eyes reaching Christen. In those brown eyes belief is conveyed, the same sparkling determination that she saw the day Tobin met her in the park.
The whistle blows, giving Christen a brief second to swing her foot back and propel the ball forward—-
into the keepers hands.
“fuck.” The word comes out of Christen’s mouth almost like a prayer would, her heart sinking in her chest as she watches the Diego lions celebrate. They had been 1-1 before the PK, now down to 1-2 and the clock ran out. It was over.
“better luck next time,” Abby says half heartedly as she loads them up into their travel bus. Tobin throws her hair up in a messy bun with a sigh.
“Chris, you know it’s not your fault right? We miss PK’s all the time, it happens.” she tries to talk to Christen, tries to get her out of the fast approaching failure funk.
“I know. I’m just disappointed in myself I think...I should have shot further and made the keeper go wide. I don’t know what I was thinking…” Christen murmurs as she runs her fingers through her damp curls as they take a seat. The ride back to the hotel is mostly in silence as the team decompresses. It was actually game 1 of 2 that weekend, but losing that game changed their opponent for game two.
“Don’t overthink that pretty brain of yours, we’ll need it for Sunday’s game.” Tobin teases, poking her tongue out as she takes a long sip of water from her team bottle. Christen shakes her head playfully, closing her eyes and letting the silence hum as they head to the hotel.
-
“They’ve invited us to go clubbing!”
Christen looks up from her clunky cellphone, raising a finger to silence her roommate as she calls her parents landline to check in with them. The last thing she needed was Tobin to ruin that.
“Hi mom, yeah...oh did Tyler tell you that Arlie is making pasta herself tonight? Yes I’m helping, she’s very into you know the organic hand spun… pasta stuff!” Christen lies through her teeth, pacing up and down the hotel room. “Love you too!”
Tobin bursts into laughter at Christen’s flushed and panic stricken face from lying to her mother. She flops down on her bed, shaking her head. “Hand spun organic pasta? That’s a new one Chris,”
“Oh give me a break, my aunt is definitely eccentric enough for it to make sense. You’ll see I swear,” Christen replies without even thinking. You’ll see? Why would Tobin see?
“No judging I once told my mom that I was at a save the bees demonstration when I was actually at the skatepark.” Tobin chuckles, rolling on her side to look at Christen. Christen’s brow raises,
“You skate?” She asks with a curiosity. Tobin nods, flashing a bright smile. “Oh yeah it’s pretty fun but my mom hates it more than she hates soccer so I always lie about where I am when I go skating. I hide my board under my bed and I go out whenever she’s already gone somewhere. Says I’ll crack my head open. I wear a helmet!”
the room’s phone rings and interrupts their conversation. Tobin opts to pick it up first, figuring it was one of the other girls on the team. She listens intently to Casey and then lowers the phone from her ear, covering the mouth piece.
“So the lions invited us clubbing, and Casey says everyone’s coming out. Even Coach maybe. It could be fun there’s an 18+ club here.” Tobin explains to Christen. The younger girl blinks in surprise.
“Well that’s kind of them...I’ll go but I haven’t got any clothes for clubbing…” Christen tugs at her loose top, shaking her head.
“Casey...come quick and bring everyone. We have a clubbing outfit to pick.”