Chapter Text
The TV blasts on about yet another car crash, or a robbery, or whatever Providence considers relevant enough to show on its ten AM local news.
Nat groans as she rolls out of bed.
Back home, early mornings used to be quiet. Sure, there was the wind chime her mom never took down despite her father's screams, and the neighbor's dog, and often some fight between the old lady down the street and the kid with the skateboard.
After her dad shot himself, the trailer lulled —especially as she got ready for school. Her mom slept in late, so she would crack a window and smoke, staring at the sky turn blue. It wasn't much, but she liked it. She enjoyed that kind of stillness.
Ever since the team won nationals and got offered those scholarships, Nat can't manage to get a single moment of peace and quiet.
Taissa always has the damn news on with the volume as high as it'll go —Nat can hear it through the wall of her bedroom. Van's footsteps are as soft as rocks, and the midnight snack stomps never fail to wake Nat up. Then there's Lottie, who's too tall of an infuriating mess to reduce to a single annoying action.
Nat looks around the room for her. She isn't in her bed, which is probably for the best. Lottie's snotty remarks and Nat's morning crankiness don't mix well.
"Turn that shit down," she grumbles as she walks into the living room, stretching a t-shirt over her shoulders.
"Put some pants on," Tai says back.
That's how it goes every time.
Tai still tries to wake the dead with that damn TV, and Nat still walks around in her underwear.
The front door opens as Nat slams their mini fridge shut, beer in hand. She leans her hips against the back of the couch, already knowing what she'll find when she turns her head to watch her.
Lottie, tousled hair and skirt zipped halfway up, doing her usual walk of shame into their dorm.
Van emerges from her and Tai's room, making one think this is her reason to get out of bed every morning. "She's back, people!"
"And like a bomb's hit her!" Tai eggs her on, finally lowering the volume of the TV.
Nat cracks the can open. She doesn't participate in this particular ritual.
Van grabs the coffee mug Taissa offers her and sprawls on the couch next to her. "Alright, who was it this time? The blonde from 205? She's got that whole woodsy, spiritual thing going on, I bet she's freaky."
"Personally, I'm rooting for Tiny Stalker."
"Ooh! Tiny Stalker!" Van cheers.
Tiny Stalker is what Tai and Van call a very short girl that has been smitten with Lottie since Brown's freshmen orientation. Misty-level obsessed with her. Nearing creepy territory.
"Walk of shame, huh?" Jackie mumbles as she walks through the door, with the deep eyebags and big hoodie she usually wears these days.
Nat chuckles. "You look like shit."
"Fuck you," Jackie says, resting her forehead on her shoulder.
She knows this is weird. Jackie and her. But it's a weird that's been happening long enough for everyone to pretend it isn't weird anymore.
Tai and Van go back to guessing as Nat rubs Jackie's back.
She isn't like this every day. Sometimes the whole Shauna thing hits her particularly hard, so instead of bursting into their dorm with ten different party fliers to go through, she drags herself to Nat and mopes while begging for physical affection.
Comforting people isn't Nat's forte, but she tries. She knows Jackie needs it since she found out about Shauna and Jeff.
Besides, she actually likes Jackie now. Sure, she used to be kind of a bitch to Nat, and it might be wrong for her to think this, but this crisis has been good for her.
She broke up with Jeff, of course, which meant no more hanging out with his idiotic friends. It left her surprisingly alone. Nat hadn't realized up until then how her entire world revolved around Shauna and Jeff.
It did, and then suddenly it didn't, and Jackie was sobbing in the locker room, and Nat found her. Maybe they wouldn't be here had she not taken so long to shower after that first soccer practice at Brown.
"You're not getting a beer belly under my watch," Jackie says, swapping the can for one of the sugarless energy drinks she orders in bulk.
Sometimes Nat is grateful for her. Sometimes she isn't.
She makes a show of drinking it.
"How's the hand?" Jackie asks her while she's at it.
Nat lifts it, swollen still and wrapped in gauze, and curls it into a thumbs-up. It hurts to move, but she doesn't want Jackie to worry too much. She doesn't need her hands to play soccer, anyway.
"You done?" Lottie asks Van and Tai, fighting the smile tugging at her lips.
She loves this, Nat thinks. She loves being the centerfold of Brown. And she loves pretending she hates it.
"You're both wrong."
She smirks at Tai and Van's frustrated sighs.
"Who was it, then?" Jackie asks as Lottie shakes off her coat.
"Sorry, I don't kiss and tell."
Van shoots Tai a knowing look. "Is that what they call it now?"
Nat chuckles just enough for Lottie to glance at her. Their eyes stick to each other like a soggy piece of gum sticks to hair. Nat drowns whatever amusement she felt a second ago with the drink in her hand.
God, she hates her.
She hates her designer clothes hanging in their closet. She hates her stupid scented candles. She hates the mocking smile that stretches her lips whenever Nat's around. She hates her dark eyes, her long legs, her soft voice.
But, mostly, she hates how her gaze is always empty when it bothers to turn in her direction. She hates that Lottie hates her back.
Lottie's eyes get lost somewhere behind Tai. Her face wrinkles. "Nat," she calls.
Nat startles. It'd be weird for Lottie to talk to her on any given day, but even more so now, after what happened yesterday.
"Hm?" She swallows the drink, which is sickeningly sweet for something that claims not to have any sugar. "What?"
The girls are quiet, watching them with bated breath like one of them may grow claws and pounce on the other.
"Uh, why are we on TV?"
Jackie gasps almost immediately, so Nat doesn't have time to second-guess Lottie. She whips around, and right there on the tiny screen is her fucking name.
Former Yellowjackets still sting!
Brown University's female soccer player Natalie Scatorccio attacks teammate Matthews after suffering an injury.
Nat grips the backrest, feeling Lottie's shoulder brush hers as she steps closer. "Tai, turn that shit up."
TWO MONTHS EARLIER
The radio in Van's pickup truck blasts "Doin' Time".
They've got the windows rolled down, their bags in the back, and jaws on the floor as they watch the colossal structures materialize in front of them.
"Holy fuckin' shit," Nat breathes out.
She doesn't think she's ever been anywhere near a building as fancy as this one, and she definitely can't picture herself as a student here.
"Finally," Tai chuckles.
Van drums the steering wheel. "We're going to Brown, bitches!"
Tai weaves her arms through Van's and honks. Nat stomps her boots on the mat.
She's happy. 'Stand on a cliffside and scream at the top of her lungs' happy. Happy like her chest may burst.
Wiskayok was as far as she was ever supposed to get. Nat was going to be one of those sad people that are born and die in the same place.
Up until four months ago, Nat didn't even have the money for community college. She was going to get a job, learn to play guitar, maybe, but that was about it.
Then they won nationals. There was all that press, and the team got offered full Brown sports scholarships, and suddenly she wasn't the lowest New Jersey had to offer.
It has been hard to wrap her head around. She spent all summer figuring a car would hit her at some point, because there was no way a burnout like her would ever get to go to an ivy league school.
But here she is, standing before its gates, a car yet to run her over.
Also…Misty?
"Oh my god, you guys are here!" she shrieks, almost knocking Nat down with a hug.
"You're…also here," Tai grins, a bit tight.
"I am!"
Nat and Van exchange frowns. "Cool! How— Why…?"
Misty stands in that sunny way she does —almost not standing at all, bouncing up and down. She points at her Brown sweatshirt.
"I go here!" she says, like they don't know this isn't just an insane coincidence.
There's a moment of silence and uncomfortable nodding, interrupted by Lottie's fucking Bentley rolling up. Well, it isn't really Lottie's, since she refuses to drive it, but her parents got it for her sweet sixteen.
It used to make Nat so angry, knowing she was going to have to fight for years to have a half-decent life while Lottie got it all laid down for her from birth.
She tries not to let it bother her too much now. College is broad; Nat won't have to see Lottie much, not like back home. Wiskayok is a small town with one school, so everything was everybody's business. Here, Lottie only has to take up space during soccer.
Mari arrives soon after; Laura Lee has been here for hours. Jackie is the last one to sulk her way into the circle.
"Hey, roomie!" Laura Lee squeals, opening her arms up to Mari.
"Uh, what?"
Misty steps in while Mari is forced into a hug. "Well, since you're all late admissions, you were assigned two dorms and roomed amongst each other."
Well. Never–fucking–mind, then.
Tai and Van gasp and elbow each other repeatedly. "All of us?" they ask.
"Yeah! Well, not me, obviously. Not in the soccer team, duh!" she chuckles bitterly. "But you are! Fun!"
Mari narrows her eyes at her, running her tongue over her teeth. "Uh-huh."
Van pumps her fist; Tai giggles along.
Nat leans toward them, whispering, "I hear one moan and I chop your tits off."
"Owh, jealous?" Van pouts, holding up two fingers in a V shape and swirling her tongue through.
Nat slaps her arm down.
"Come with me, I can show you to your rooms," Misty says, spinning on her heels with her hands laced on her back.
Nat frowns. "She our tour guide now?" she mumbles —not quietly enough; Misty hears.
"Ha–ha, very funny," she says without turning back, her shoulders dropping with disappointment. "Freshmen aren't allowed to be tour guides."
Nat laughs, and they troop after her.
"Alright, Laura Lee, Mari, Jackie, you're in 403." Misty points to their dorm.
Laura Lee skips inside, since Mari refuses to let her help with her bags. Jackie dallies after them.
"Nat, Van, Tai, you're in 402."
"Thanks, ma'am," Nat salutes her.
"Yes, thank you for your service," Van follows.
She hears Misty's giggles and her playful bow. "See you at orientation!"
Tai waves her off and shuts the door.
"Dibs on the right!" Van shouts, and she bolts with Tai to what is now a bedroom Nat will never set foot in. She doesn't want to find anything nasty.
She throws her head back, fixes the straps of her bag. Why did she have to be put in the same room as the happy couple?
Either way, the dorm is pretty wicked. There are two couches in an L shape around a coffee table, plenty of shelves, and two tall windows. It looks a bit empty now, but it'll take the three of them no time to make a mess of it.
There's a big suitcase by the bedroom on the left. Nat watches it as she would a burglar.
"Uh, hi?" she calls, slowly approaching the door.
There's no answer, so she pushes it open.
Drenched in pink, purple, and fur, is Nat's worst nightmare, standing tall by one of the twin-sized beds.
Lottie whips around, sighing as she sees her. Three balled-up skirts get tossed on the mattress. "Shit."
"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me," Nat breathes out.
No way. There is no way she is spending her first year of college trapped in the same fucking square as Lottie Matthews.
She retraces her steps, this time knocking furiously on Tai and Van's door. It flies open, wind knocking her back. "Woah, woah, chill!" Van scolds her.
Tai stands behind Van. "What the fuck?"
Their eyes find the problem before Nat even opens her mouth.
"Oh," Tai laughs. "Absolutely not."
"Nope," Van shakes her head.
"But—"
"No chance!"
"We," Tai puts a hand on Van's shoulder, "happy and in love. You two," she points to Nat, then to Lottie, "need to work your shit out."
"Alright, you fuckin' suck, know that?"
"Love ya," Van sneers as she nudges the door closed.
Nat flips the wood off.
Lottie's leaning her side on the doorframe, legs crossed. "Are you done throwing a fit?" she snarls.
She thinks she's so much better than her. It's infuriating.
Nat chews on the inside of her cheek. She has been trying to punch less furniture whenever she's angry, though Lottie is making it difficult.
"Good. I'm taking half the closet, you take the rest. And the drawers —I won't use them."
"You want me to thank you or something?"
Lottie rolls loosely into their room. "Just letting you know. You can do whatever you want."
Nat follows her in. "Great. Can I kick you out, then?" she jokes —sort of.
"I'm trying to be civil here, Nat," Lottie nearly pleads with her.
The tone gets her feeling a little guilty. Nat guesses it stems from desperation. There's nothing to do about the rooming situation, after all. She might as well not waste her energy.
Nat raises both hands next to her head, palms forward. She gives up the fight for now. Unpacking is already a nightmare.
She unzips her duffel bag and flips it over. Whatever clothes were acceptable enough to bring spill on the carpet.
"Which half?" Nat asks Lottie, a bit unwilling, so it comes out like a mumble.
"What?"
"Which fuckin' half of the closet d'you want?"
The offer catches Lottie off-guard. She takes a second to answer. "I'm fine with either."
Nat stares at her for a moment, waiting in case she changes her mind. "Don't go complaining later," she says.
"I won't."
"Good."
"Great."
She pulls a hanger out and wraps her jacket around it, perhaps a bit too aggressively.
"Ms. Matthews!" a woman calls from the other room.
Lottie's whole face scrunches, and she mutters a string of curses.
Curious, Nat peeks her head into the living room.
The woman pushes a box inside, then a man in a suit follows with a few bags.
"Ms. Matthews!" the woman calls again. "We've brought your belongings!"
Nat takes a deep breath while her blood boils inside her veins. Lottie Matthews brought help on moving day —because of course she did.
She steps briskly outside, head low like she's ashamed. Ashamed of what? Her outrageous amount of money? Being a brat who can't carry four goddamn boxes into her dorm room? Both?
Nat tails her, head shaking in disbelief.
"Thank you, yeah— that's fine just…yes, leave it there."
"Are you sure, miss?"
Lottie's voice keeps getting higher and her legs squirmier. "Yup. Mhm. That's great. Thank you so much, really."
"Do you need anything else, miss?"
Her arms flap furiously. "No! No, please. Go, I'll take care of this."
The pair leaves after repeated confirmation that "Miss Matthews" can handle basic human tasks. She closes the door and rests her back against it. Her cheeks are red and puffed, blowing air out.
Nat finally lets out a jaded chuckle. "Freakin' daddy's girl," she mutters, going back to keep unpacking.
This is going to be a long year.
TWO DAYS EARLIER
Coach blasts on about the same game plan they've been going over all week. Possession, halftime switch, Scatorccio outside right, something, something, Matthews center half-back, Dartmouth is on a losing streak, etcetera.
The match is scheduled for two PM tomorrow. All the girls are hyped, even though most of them aren't playing. Nat can tell Tai is pissed about not getting as much playtime as Lottie and her, so she tries not to talk to her. She doesn't want to become an emotional punching bag.
Instead, she sits on a bench, curls into herself, and takes way longer than needed to tie her cleats.
Jackie sits behind her, wrapping her legs around her hips and her arms around her waist. "Why are you so grim? At least you get to play tomorrow."
"I'm not. And you might get to as well."
"Yeah, if someone breaks her ankle."
Nat chuckles, straightening up so Jackie can tie her hair. She doesn't know why Jackie insists on doing it, and she doesn't care. She used to push her away —not just the hair thing, all of it— but Jackie is so goddamn touchy, Nat feels like a stray cat that's been tamed against its will.
She didn't have any close friends who were girls growing up, so she went straight from constant taunting, numbing, and wrestling to chaste kisses, hugs, and, well, some fake wrestling as well. But Jackie is very weak about it —not that Nat ever tells her that.
"Done," Jackie says, patting her back.
Nat swings her legs over the bench so she's facing her.
"Are you nervous about the press?" Jackie asks her, quietly. She knows Nat doesn't like to talk about anything that could make her sound wimpy somewhere the older girls can hear.
"Wouldn't have to be if it wasn't for Lottie," she bites out.
"Her dad's friend's sister's daughter talking about this game on TV is hardly her fault," Jackie tells her. Nat narrows her eyes at her. "Fine, Lottie is the cause of all your problems, is that what you wanna hear?"
She fixes her shorts so she has an excuse to look away.
"And— Press is good! It's great, actually. No women's soccer game ever gets this kind of attention."
"Yeah, yeah. I know," Nat mumbles, because she does know.
Having all those cameras around the field and the bleachers full may be nerve-wracking, but it's also fucking awesome.
Whoever that girl is —Lotties's dad's friend's sister's daughter's, some model who talked about attending the game on a talk show—, the team owes her.
But Nat won't admit that, not when Coach has been giving her shit for weeks because of said cameras and said full bleachers.
The skin around her nails is red and raw because of said cameras and full bleachers.
There's too much pressure on this.
"Hey," Jackie snaps her back, hands on her shoulders shaking her gently. "It's gonna be great, okay?"
She leans forward, touching their foreheads. Nat holds onto her forearms.
"You're gonna kick their asses all the way back to New Hampshire."
Nat snorts. "Fuckin' cheeseball," she laughs, shoving her back.
She hopes Jackie's right, though.
TODAY
"Whew! If this is how they get along on the field, those locker rooms must be going up in flames! Let me tell you, Kristen, this is why background checks are so important. I mean, this girl behaves straight out of a juvenile detention center. Anybody know her story?"
The stupid audience laughs, and it echoes through Nat's skull until it turns into an ear-splitting jingle.
"Nobody? Well, I'm just saying, Brown isn't doing their female soccer team any favors keeping this one —unless it's on a leash!"
Nat can feel her heart beating inside her throat, getting louder and louder with each pump.
"Bullshit!" Van yells at the screen.
Tai quiets her down.
Nat can't stand how the girls are looking at her, pity swimming in their eyes.
All of them but one, taking wary steps away from Nat like she's foaming through the mouth —and she might as well be.
She waves a hand in the air, trying to stop her rage with five dainty fingers. "Nat, wait—"
"I'm gonna fucking kill you, Lottie!"