Chapter Text
The first rule that must be strictly obeyed by separated parents who do not want to be Parent-Trapped is this: Do Not Send Your Kids To Sleepaway Camp, Where They Could Possibly Reconnect With A Long-Lost Sibling.
Ted Lasso and Rebecca Welton clearly have not read the rulebook. Or, at least, they haven’t watched The Parent Trap in a while. Because on a warm June day, both bid a temporary farewell to their daughters, both just months shy of fifteen, wishing them a good time at their marine-life immersion camp in Alaska.
Grace Welton boards a plane from London while Sadie Lasso waves goodbye to her father, his truck idling in the dropoff lane at the airport.
Sadie Lasso passes the time before her flight on her phone, texting her friends and complaining about the ridiculously overpriced airport refreshments.
Using her in-flight WiFi, Grace Welton texts her friends and complains about the quality of the airline refreshments.
From: Grace
To: Ally, Dianna
They’re literally just serving tea on this flight. No coffee. Who wants this fucking garbage juice??
From: Sadie
To: Christa, Nina
This tea, like most tea, is total shit. Can’t believe I spent eight dollars on this.
~
Camp Hera is a series of corrugated metal housing units constructed at the bottom of a snowy mountainside. Icy rivers flow on either side of the largest parcel of land. Sadie pulls her parka tighter around her frame as she nears the camp, the small truck responsible for their transport so far north unnervingly cold even with windows closed.
Her phone vibrates in her pocket. Fingers numb, she checks her notifications.
From: Dad
To: Sadie
Have fun Sadie. Let me know if you find a Yeti! And please send pictures. Not just of the Yeti. But of you, too. Having fun and all that.
He has inexplicably attached a photo of himself in a Yeti costume.
In corrugated metal housing unit number six, Grace Welton unpacks her four weeks’ worth of luggage into her corner of the dormitory. Her phone vibrates with an incoming text.
From: Mum
To: Grace
Have fun Grace. Send pictures! I’ll miss you lots. Charlie will too x
She’s attached a photo of the family cat, Charlie, decked out in a tiny Richmond AFC hat.
Grace is replying to her mother’s text while the door creaks open, letting in a blast of cold air with her two other roommates. The only one she’s met so far, Emma Redford, greets the newcomers.
“You’re Hailey, great, and…?” Emma spins around. “Haven’t you unpacked already?”
“No,” replies a confused voice. “I just got here. I’m Sadie. Sadie Lasso.” Grace detects a typical Midwestern American twang in the girl’s voice.
“No you’re not, you’ve been here for twenty minutes,” Emma insists. “Where’d your cool accent go?”
“You don’t like my accent? Well, shit, let me adjust my whole life on a dime,” the girl replies sarcastically. “I’m from Kansas. This is just how we talk, okay, Emma?”
“Oh-kay. Jesus. Sorry.”
“Just don’t appreciate not being taken seriously, is all,” Sadie replies, setting her bag down. Grace finally sneaks a peek at the bold newcomer… and nearly faints.
“Hi,” Grace says. “I’m Grace.”
“You look like me,” Sadie says.
“You do,” Grace replies.
“Interesting,” they say together.
~~~
“The first rule of this… transaction… is that we will not fall for each other,” Rebecca tells Ted, watching him squeeze toothpaste onto his brush with well-practiced precision. She wraps her dressing gown tighter around her frame. “I mean, Ted… you’re excellent in bed, but I’m not… looking for that right now. A relationship-relationship, I mean.”
“Well, thank you for the compliment.” He brushes his teeth nonchalantly. As if they hadn’t just had sex . As if dental hygiene matters when Rebecca’s world is crumbling around her because fuck , she’s about to break her own first rule if he keeps being so damn good at everything he does, so damn gentle with her. So damn generous to be doing this at all. To switch so easily from Yes, I’ll be your donor to Hey, should we try the traditional way first? With that damn seductive look in his eyes. Despite the fucking mustache and every strange folksy anecdote he contains, he manages to contain so much strangely attractive energy. It’s like magnetism or something.
“I’m a rule-follower, Boss. May not always seem that way, but… I’ll make sure to keep it professional.” He meets her gaze in the mirror. Both of them are fucking lying. She can see it in their eyes, how they’re staring at each other, longingly . (Lovingly.) Fuck.
“Good. I appreciate this. And you. So much.”
And she hurries off to recover her pounding heart. Alone, staring at her ceiling, she mutters to herself (or so she thinks), “Ted Lasso, you motherfucker.”
From the bathroom, she hears, “I hope so! Get it? 'Cause, you know, we're tryna procreate.”
“Jesus Christ.” Of all the verbs, he chose procreate. What a fucking dork. The joke was lame too. But clever, she'll admit, even if trite.
(Rebecca Welton has never followed the first rules of anything well. And this probably won’t be an exception.)