Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

”Look, it’s cold and wet outside and there’s nothing to do. Be a friend, let’s bring her to coffee. Would it really be so bad?” Lauren glances at her friends sitting across from her on the hotel bed. Legs crossed, incredulous expressions set.

“YES.” The pair say in unison with identical groans.

“I’m sure she’s lovely but she’s a little erm…” Amy trails off, twisting a strand of blonde hair around her finger.

“She’s stuck up Arod. Just spit it out. She plays in Sweden, she’s got these like strict routines. Come on Cheney, do we need that?” Tobin flops back on the mattress, absently chewing on her bottom lip after her confession.

“Christen is not…stuck up,” Lauren chastises the younger two women, shaking her head. “She’s never been in a camp before, I get it. She’s just an alternate and it can be lonely.”

Amy rolls her eyes, standing up and grabbing her purse. “Fine. Listen, I’ll go but this isn’t becoming a thing Cheney!” She warns as Tobin pouts. “I’m not taking in strays.”

“Seriously? Fine I guess.” The youngest of the trio springs herself up, fiddling around to make sure her wallet is in her skinny jeans pocket. Lauren swings an arm around Tobin’s shoulders and rubs her forehead briefly.

“Tobs. Be nice, okay. It’s one coffee date. We can completely ignore her after that if that's what you want.”

“It is.” Tobin gruffs.

-

Christen walks downstairs to meet with the trio before heading into the drippy Glasgow afternoon. She anxiously smooths down her hair, a useless task given the rain on her curls. She knew that she liked Lauren, but still didn’t know much about the other new kids.

“Christen! Hi, come on come on, before it starts pouring again,” Lauren waves her over to the group with a smile. “There’s a coffee place on the corner we’ve been going to if that’s okay? I don’t really know how much you’re into it…”

Christen waves her off, a hand tightening on her purse strap.

“Anywhere I can get a latte is fine Lauren, seriously. I’ll go to Starbucks.” She chuckled, glancing at the other two women who hadn’t said much of a word since she joined. Tobin is seemingly swimming in a giant hoodie, playing with the strings while glancing at the sky’s ominous clouds. Amy is checking her wallet to make sure she has some quid on her in case their credit cards don’t go through.

“Isn’t coffee like a huge thing in Sweden?” Amy questions as they walk. Christen looks over to the blonde and nods.

“Oh, they call it fika. It’s a little different than what we consider coffee.” She steps into line with the three others, taking off her coat hood and taking in the deeply rich smell of coffee. It’s a busy cafe lined with tables, and Scots minding their own busy lives. A few drank coffee out of colorful mugs with the shop’s logo on them. Steam curling off the tops of a fresh batch.

“Fika…” Tobin mutters under her breath, thinking Christen can’t hear over the drone of the bustling coffee shop.

“Fika,” Christen starts pointedly, “is more than a coffee break. It’s about, like, savoring time with others. They take these breaks in the day kind of like countries take siestas. It’s just time to stop and breathe. I love it. It slows the world down.”

Lauren smiles, nudging Tobin and Amy behind her. “So this is kind of a fika break isn’t it?”

“It can be.” Christen affirms, turning to the barista and ordering herself a simple vanilla latte. Tobin rolls her eyes at Lauren, ordering herself a dark roast with room for cream and awkwardly shifting behind Christen in the pick up line.

“I’ll grab us a table,” Lauren heads past the pair and into the side corner where a large booth had opened up.

“You can go sit, I'll bring the drinks,” Tobin offers to Christen, feeling a bit bad for her fika comment earlier. She knows it’s not kind of her, but couldn’t stop it. Christen got under her skin and Tobin had no idea why if she had to be honest. It could just be the reasons she gave Lauren. That’s it right? She’s just a bit stuck up is all.

“Hm? Oh, sure. Thanks.” Christen seems surprised, aloof at Tobin’s presence beside her. She made her way to Lauren where Amy had beelined already.

-

“So tell us more about Sweden, like you don’t play for a lot of people do you?” Amy asks, her face turning pink. “Well I mean—”

“Oh it’s fine. Really. So I’m at one of the largest clubs and we get a decent amount, but most of our rivals don’t. I’ve heard it’s kind of like Paris? Beyond psg and lyon, the other clubs are so small. I love the game they play though.” Christen beams, overselling the club. She knows they view it as strange, and aren’t quite sure she’s supposed to be here at the Olympics. “It’s hard with the league folding and then going out there and all. That I won’t sugarcoat.”

“You’re not alone in that. I think it’s brave going overseas like that. I couldn’t do that, especially not speaking the language.” Lauren states, her attention quickly moving from Christen to the unruly brunette dumping their coffee on the table.

“Got them all. Kinda hot.” Tobin says while lifting each cup from the tray she sets down heavily.

“Thanks, Tobs.” Amy reached over the table, snagging hers and scooting Lauren’s down the way. Christen reached for hers as Tobin was moving to place it down. Their hands brush and they each jump at the unexpected contact.

“Oh I was gonna hand it over.” Tobin mumbled, moving back and sitting in a chair pulled up to the middle of the table. She tucks her legs under her chin like a child, hoodie covering her knees.

“Christen was just telling us about Sweden…Tobs have you ever thought of playing abroad, like, seriously?” Amy asks between sips. Tobin deadpans,

“Yeah I’m starting for Arsenal next month at Emirates.”

Lauren kicks Tobin’s chair under the table with a groan. “Oh come on, that was a good one!”

“I for one would love to play like in Spain. Look at Barca, you can’t say that’s not amazing football.” Amy interjects while Christen nods—- trying to not pay attention to Tobin’s little one woman comedy show.

“One of my teammates says she might be going to PSG next season. Not final but it floated around her. She’s staying this season. And really it’s a great opportunity for the Champions League which is just more competitive each year so I’ve heard.” Christen takes the top off her latte, blowing on the steamy top.

Tobin hums. She’s considering her options if she had to be honest. It’s been a struggle to feel settled with a team since the league folded. She’s currently signed with the New York Fury in a lower division league, and it feels like a rec league sometimes. Tobin knows she’s better than most of her team but she gets to play with Casey, Sinead, and Allie so maybe it wasn’t so bad.

“I still can’t believe the league is just gone…” Amy sighs in exasperation. “I mean, Philly had JUST got here you know?”

Lauren somberly nods, eyes blinking away tears. “I really loved Boston…I don’t know what I’ll do after the Olympics honestly.”

It’s Christen’s turn to feel heat spreading through her cheeks at the realization that her teammates were struggling more than she thought. She sinks down into the soft padded coffee shop seat. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so cavalier. I was in your shoes, seriously. I had to get out of magicjack, and I know you guys will find somewhere.”

“Tobs has already found the fury. Lucky duck.” Amy whistles, rolling her eyes at her friend. “Talented little maestro that one is.”

“I haven’t even played yet guys. We’ll see if they need me after this summer because I think it’s just like April to august…” She shrugged, shifting to stretch out. “My ankle only just got cleared.”

The four women wait out the rest of the storm in the coffee shop, trading stories from across their soccer lives so far.

-

“I need you in pairs for this exercise, we’ll be working on passing rates.”

Tobin sinks as far down into the grass as she can, watching Pia’s pen scribble across her clipboard. No one has moved yet, knowing their coach is going to assign the pairs herself.

Tobin had no complaints about that save for the fact that she couldn’t stand everyone today. Maybe it started when Carli pushed past her in the breakfast line, grabbing the last of the bagels. Maybe it was Megan singing in the halls. Who’s to say it wasn’t Hope trying to give her advice on the elevator ride back to her room after a team walk.

“Okay Lori and Jill, Kelley and HAO…that leaves Alex and Christie, hmm Christen you’re with Tobin I want my alternates in the session! Up up VAMOS!” Pia claps to get the team up on their feet. Tobin takes a heavy breath in and heaves out.

“You got your head in the game Heath?” Christen’s sparkling voice asked with a chuckle, nudging the ball to Tobin still on the ground. The older player groaned, shaking her head.

“I can do passing drills in my sleep, Press,”

Tobin slides up off the ground, taking the ball between her feet and starting a quick juggle to tease Christen. As she sees the woman’s face grow into annoyance she relents, kicking the ball forward to Christen before pivoting to practice passing.

“Do you not read hand signals? I was wide open for like two minutes of that play!”

Tobin looks incredulously at Christen after netting a mini goal. She shrugs with an eyebrow raise “the end was the same with you or not. You carried it halfway down, that’s good enough? You want to kick next time?”

“Well yes, it’s what we’re supposed to be doing,” Christen chirps back, pulling the ball from the net and starting over. She walks down to reset the play, oblivious to Tobin’s eyeroll.

The midfielder moves to play defense against Christen’s first touch, trying to slip the ball out between strides. Christen wasn’t about to let Tobin win though, curving her hips inward to protect the ball at her feet and avoid any collisions on her path. They battle it out at the final third of the mini net. Tobin misjudges, her foot spiking the ball away from Christen while catching her shin and her hands instinctively go for the waist in front of her to steady herself. They both go tumbling in a mess of long limbs and grass.

“Wipeout on aisle 3,” Abby whistles nearby, having watched the whole event unfold. Eyes were already on the pair who couldn’t tell who’s body part was what as they tried to untangle. Christen felt warm skin under her palms, and she yanked herself back as she realized it was Tobin.

“Oww,” The midfielder groaned, holding her head. She had made contact against Christen’s sharp rib as they fell, a goose egg already forming.

“Nice to know you’re hard headed in every sense of the word.” Christen mutters, pulling herself up and out of their mess of limbs. She straightens her jersey out, seeing cleat marks on her socks.

“Hey! I knew I could get that ball if you didn’t just let yourself fall on top of me-” Tobin argues, her cheeks pink at the realization that she had in fact lost her own footing and was the reason the tackle failed. She gets up, hands on her hips as she steadies herself. Tobin’s knees wobble slightly, her lips purse as she glares straight into Christen’s green eyes.

“Ok. You two, split it up. Press, go do some stretches and join Morgan and Rampone. They're shooting mostly. Heath, sit down, we're doing a concussion test.” Dawn barked, making her way over to the two players with trainers at her side. Now Tobin feels even more embarrassed, sinking back to the ground.

“Really, I’m fine Dawn. I promise. I can do a sobriety test, wanna see?” Tobin tries to plead with Dawn while a trainer pulls out the flashlight to begin.

“Tobs. What were you doing out there? You don’t need to be that reckless one v one during a passing drill. Slide tackles work but you can’t misjudge them like that. You were supposed to just get touches in.” Dawn chastised, noticing some blood on her socks. Tobin sighs, following the fingers of the trainer in front of her.

“Clear, but no more contact for today. Take it easy, passing and shooting solo only.” Dawn says sternly, knowing that one of her favorite players knew better.

Tobin protested but walked herself over to the sidelines juggling for the rest of the practice. And maybe she watched Christen take shots like her life depended on it.

-
“You look like shit Heath.” Pinoe comments as the brunette grabs her dinner plate in the dining room of their hotel. Tobin sighs, reaching for a serving of veggies.

“Should’ve seen the other guy.” She teases, knowing Pinoe saw the whole thing.

“We saw the other guy, you idiot.” Alex scoffs, annoyed at her friend for the stupid play. She reaches around Tobin for some meatballs, shaking her head. Tobin freezes, forgetting that Alex had continued the training with Christen. She squeezed through the rest of the dining line, picking the smallest things she could and going to an empty table.

It wasn’t like the team was mad at her, something Tobin didn’t think was possible, but they did seem disappointed with her which was a cross the 24 year old would bear. Her head was throbbing, she wasn’t due for another Advil until the next morning, and everyone was annoyed with her. Not the best night of her life. And then there was the whole Olympics in a week situation

“Can totally see the goose egg.” Christen teases, passing by Tobin’s side as she shovels in meatballs. Tobin’s eyes widen, her hands going instinctively to the tender knob still forming under her scalp. It’s a lie, and she knows that but part of her still worries with opening games starting in a few days.

“It’ll be cute, come on Tobin.”

It really wasn’t but what choice did she have? Tobin sighed at the skirt, white button up, ankle socks and loafers on her bed. Folded next to the outfit was a team USA zip up from Nike.

“I don’t know, I mean we’re not even required..”

“I’m not missing my first opening ceremony, even if it’s not in person. But I guess you’ve been there and done that.” Alex says, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall next to the tiny hotel closet.

Tobin’s lips parted in surprise, unsure what to say next. She absently plays with a loose thread on the comforter, tugging at the material. “Al look I hardly played it was like being an alternate”

“So what? That doesn’t mean this isn’t special-”

“I just don’t want to wear a skirt Alex. Can we stop making it into something it’s not?” Tobin said firmly, in hopes that the other girl would know to shut up. Alex doesn’t reply, grabbing her wallet and walking out. Tobin doesn’t blame her. She knows she’s being rude. And Alex doesn’t entirely deserve it.

She knows that Alex was just trying to make her excited for tonight but her heart wasn’t in it. She’ll blame it on the Scotland weather. The dampness of a summer rain. But she knows it’s not.

So Tobin rises from the bed and decides that she’ll try to please both thoughts in her head.

She pulls the top out from the pile, rummages around to find a pair of long basketball shorts, and the supplied Ralph Lauren hat to match. Tobin runs her hand along the fabric of the shorts, loving the way the shiny fabric felt under her fingertips for the first time in a while.

“There’s no way.” Christen remarks as she streamlines into the dining room at their hotel that night.

“No way what Pressy, stop mumbling to yourself,” Kelley says, adjusting her newspaper boy cap. Christen jerks her head over across the room at a figure who was playing it fast and loose with the Olympic dress code. “Tobs? Pshhh it’s not like we’re being skyped into the ceremony.”

“Always breaking a rule, trying to be cool,” Christen mutters as she grabs a dinner tray. She was right of course. Tobin is breaking dress code with her gray shorts and lack of shoes along with the Olympic button up and hat. But Christen also knew at least the other girl was an Olympian.

It was always a strange feeling to remember that she is only here for if and when a forward has the worst day of their lives. At least that forward wouldn’t be Tobin. Christen catches herself over thinking and turns her attention back to her plate. They have roughly 30 minutes before the ceremonies begin back in London, which they’ll be watching on the big screen in the dining room. Christen wonders what it would be like to walk in it.

“What’s your deal?”

Tobin looks up from her plate to Arod sliding in at the table across from her with a brow raised. She shakes her head.

“No deal.”

“That’s bull Tobs.” Arod replies, cutting up her chicken breast and taking a bite. Tobin pushes around the soggy leaves of her salad. “Alex is pissed, and you collided with Press, like what’s going on. This outfit?”

Tobin frowned, tugging at her shorts that were the complete opposite of the entire team’s white skirts. “Alex is her own fault. She was getting mad with me, and there’s nothing wrong with my outfit. We’re not even going to be on tv.”

Amy softens slightly, bobbing her head around to finally agree with Tobin, “You’re right, we’re not on tv. I guess we should all dial it back. Hief must really want the good photos to show up. Speaking of, how’s the noggin?”

Tobin gives a shrug, “No concussion so far. Just kinda hurts.” She instinctively goes to touch the goose egg and shudders at the tender piece of skin. “You can’t even see it right?”

Arod gives her a feeble smile, lips pressed together as she avoids saying yes or no. She could see it. She was also looking for it. Tobin sighs.

Eventually the opening ceremony starts on their projector, connected to some stream for NBC. Tobin’s mind wanders from the intricate stunts and celebration of British culture. She can’t stay focused, her argument with Alex bubbling up and the collision with Press replaying. Why did Press have to be there? Why was she in the way? Was she hurt? If she isn’t, she should be. Tobin crosses her arms at her own selfish thoughts.

-

“And that is a wrap on Glasgow!” Pia shouts at the podium in the hotel meeting room with a fist pump. The girls let out a collective whoop, still buzzing off their win earlier in the evening. Two successful wins at the top of their group could not be a better start off for the tournament. “We head to Manchester tonight. I know, I know but this gives you… full day tomorrow to rest before we train and next game is the 31.”

A few grumbles make their way through the chairs. The last thing they wanted to do after a win is cram themselves into a travel bus for three hours.

“Coach, what time do we need to load up by?” Rampone asks, balancing her daughter on her lap. Riley gurgles. It’s far past the toddler’s bedtime but who was counting anymore when you’re across the world competing in an Olympics.

“8:30 is ideal. Late travel, sleep in tomorrow. Trade off.” She says with a knowing smile. “Oh! And before I forget. Roommate swap. So we don’t have to handle uh when arriving. List will be on my door. Goodnight.”

Tobin frowns and it’s pretty obvious. She hated roommate changes. She doesn’t mind the revolving door so to say of a dorm life, but camp was different. She had Alex. Alex who was the perfect roommate. Ok that may be a bit of a stretch but Tobin liked the comfort of having Alex there.

“Hey,” Alex nudges her on their way back to the elevator to their floor.

“Hey Al,” Tobin smiles, leaning against her as they wait for the next car. “Who do you think you got matched with this time?”

The brunette shrugs, pushing a strand of hair behind her ears and her headband. “I dunno. I feel like I’ve had everyone at this point,” her voice lowers to a whisper as the rest of the girls slowly file in behind them. “If I get Barnie and her snoring, I am sleeping on your floor. I swear to god.”

Tobin is startled by the elevator ding, jumping away from Alex’s whispers to beeline inside. Christen and Meghan- Kling step on with them.

“Do you guys have an idea of who you’ll get?” Alex asks the pair of current roommates as she leans back against the railing as they make their way up to floor 12.

“Depends if they want alternates with everyone else-” Christen mumbles through a yawn as the day catches up with her.

“You guys are part of the team, why wouldn’t they? You two are training and everything. Sure you’ll ride the bench but you are here, that’s good. You aren’t like second class citizens.” Alex replies with a bit of surprise at Christen’s statement. Tobin feels bad for a moment, it sounds like Christen felt a bit outside of the group. And while she has her gripes about the woman, Tobin doesn’t think anyone should feel like that on their team.

“Al is right. You’re both part of the team. I’m sure Pia and Dawn are mixing you around for a reason.” She offers as they land on their floor. Christen is a bit pink and thanks them before heading to the opposite side of the floor.

Tobin slogs herself through her room with Alex, packing her bag. She combs through the bathroom, shaking her head at Alex’s full vanity set up. Makeup, perfume, foot spray, face wash, headbands, ponytail holders, and the list could keep going. Tobin on the other hand had a ziplock bag of her toiletries like face wash. Traveling light was her signature.

“Do you think the list is out yet?” Alex asks as she meticulously packs her suitcase in neat little sections. She’s laying a square of tees and tanks inside.

“Hief always texts us. What’s got you antsy over the roommates?” Tobin raises an eyebrow at her friend’s behavior, confused by this and the conversation earlier.

“I want it to be someone cool so we can swap, duh.” Alex sticks her tongue out. “I like having you as a roomie, Tobs. We’ve got monop deal to play and nails to paint.” She chuckles at her own insistence.

Tobin hums in agreement. “I would miss that.” She says, thinking about fond memories with Alex.

“Of course you would.” The striker chirps as she attempts to zip her bag up. It was just a little too bulky—

“Shit.” Alex groans as the bag struggles and unzips itself. She kicks the soft side, pouting. “I hate these stupid bags US soccer assigned us. They suck.”

“You overpack.” Tobin says matter of factly, getting on her knees to help distribute her weight on the bag to zip it up again.

“I have to be prepared.” Alex counters, rolling her eyes. “Besides you’re the one who is carrying her entire toiletry bag in a ziplock!”

Tobin grunts, pushing down harder on the bag. It finally closes and Alex stands it up against the wall as she makes one last trek around the room.

“I know where my things are and I’m being resourceful.”

Alex scoffs at her. “You keep telling yourself that Tobs.”

Tobin does another sweep around her side of the room before pulling up her bag before they go down to the bus.

“Okay. Roomie time and then we head to the bus…do you think Dawn has snacks?” She asks Alex while walking through the maze of hallways. The younger woman shrugged, making a face.

“Dawn always gives us dates or something gross. Think we can raid the vending machine?”

Tobin nods, turning the corner to Pia’s door. “You’re right. I cannot do another cup of nuts for a 3 hour bus ride.”

The pair walk up into a crowd of their teammates, trying to figure out assignments and if possible swaps. What Pia didn’t know, didn’t hurt her.

“It says…no way that’s not fair!” Kelley exclaims petulantly. “I’m with Carli and Syd is with Cheney! I want a redo.”

Carli pinches the bridge of her nose. “You’re so welcoming O’Hara, really.” She deadpans with a sigh. She knows most of the team can’t stand her, but she has Hope on her side so that’s enough. Kelley’s face turns pink and she grabs her suitcase.

“No offense Carli. I know you’d want to be in a solo room anyway. Well just. Make this work.” She attempts to brush over the clear insult and move along. Alex wiggled her way through the group, waving Tobin over.

“Okay…let’s see she did alphabetical by last name…Morgan…Morgan….oh!” Alex triumphantly pumps her fist. “I’m with Abby!”

Tobin grins. Abby knew how to throw a great hotel party and just chill when needed.

“And it says let’s see Heath was…you’re with Press!” Alex reads off with slight confusion. Sometimes the girls could read Pia’s choices in rooming as tactical, that she wanted people to learn from each other. Sometimes it was about discipline. Sometimes she knew they couldn’t stand each other. This one stumped Alex though. Midfielder with an alternate striker felt odd.

“Wait did you say I was with…” Press asks incredulously, stepping into the circle. She furrows her brow, squinting at the list on the door as the rest of the girls keep finding their roommates.

“Roomie.” Tobin says, bowing her head with a mimicked top hat. Christen grabs her bag and starts rolling it down the hall. “I’m going to snag my bus seat.” She states, quickly turning into the elevator.

Tobin is a bit dumbfounded at the quick exit but doesn’t follow. She’s waiting for Alex, her bus buddy. Rooming with Press…she has to thank her lucky stars that it’s not Carli at least. As Tobin watches Kelley listen to Carli list off suite rules before they’ve even started to leave. The freckle faced defender is trying not to roll her eyes… and might be failing.

“Al’s grabbing snacks, you got any requests?” Abby asks, slinging an arm around Tobin as Hief begins corralling the team downstairs.

“If they have sour patch kids and uh salt & vinegar chips.” Tobin shrugs, pulling her suitcase along. “No biggie if she can’t.”

“How on earth you have teeth enamel, I will never know.” Abby shakes her head, firing off a quick text to Alex who was in charge of illegal snack duty.

“Hey. My parents paid for this beautiful smile. I take care of it.”

“I miss braceface Toby,” Arod teases alongside them, rubbing Tobin’s head while leaning back into the elevator to fit everyone and their bags.

“Good old Hobin teeth was something special.” Becky laments from the other corner of the carriage. Tobin’s face grew pink under the fluorescent lights. She hated her braces. Hated the nicknames. Everything about it.

“I hate you guys.” She muttered, rolling her eyes as the group started to laugh together. It was all in good fun.

“Hey Tobs do you want Cheney and I to braid your hair on the bus?” Arod asked as they lined up one by one to chuck their bags in the storage of the bus before going in. Tobin thought for a second then smiled, nodding. She absolutely loved when Arod and Cheney braided her messy hair. God knows she’s not ambidextrous enough to do it herself.

“Yes please, Arod.”

Chapter Text

Christen was the first to board the bus after all of that. And stayed in her spot, mostly. She sits in the window seat in the middle of the bus. Not too far back, not too far forward. She’s in eavesdropping distance from each friend group and far enough to ignore them. Pinoe clamors on next, snagging the far back while Hope climbs into the front.

“Can I sit?” Amy asks, sliding in as Christen nodded a reply.

“Why aren’t you with Cheney?” She questions, sitting up from her window slouch. Arod shrugs.

“She wants to pass out and take an extra space. There’s enough for two or three of us to sleep if we wanted.” Arod shifts around, pulling out a book and her blanket. “Besides, I think you’re tolerable. And that’s a high compliment because I could have sat with Kelley and lost my mind.”

Christen laughs, her eyes finding the class clown heading to the back of the bus seats. Kelley was a riot but an acquired taste. They didn’t sit together because they had enough of each other at Stanford.

“I love Kels but you’re right I need a quiet night.” Christen agrees, pulling out her own blanket and pillow to curl up with.

“I call window!” Alex yells, scrambling into the row in front of Arod & Christen. She dives into the window seat, laying back against the fabric of the seat.

“You suck Al, you had window last time!” Tobin whines, flopping into the second seat with a sigh.

“Be faster next time!” The younger woman giggled, pulling down the window shade and wiggling down into the leather. Tobin grumbled something inaudible, rolling her eyes as she shoved her backpack under the seat.

“Tobs, put your hair over the headrest. I’ll braid.” Amy pokes her teammate through the gap in the seats. Christen glances over as the brunette does what she’s asked, long hair cascading over the headrest. Arod separates out into four sections to begin a French braid.

Tobin closes her eyes, sinking into the feeling of Amy’s twisting. She loves this. It’s one of her favorite routines with the rest of her new kids.

“Al. Can I listen as you watch vampire diaries?” Tobin asks, poking her. Alex squinted, looking up from her bright screen amid cabin darkness.

“Fine, I guess.” Alex playfully tsked, handing over the other half of her wired earbuds. She set up the phone on the arm rest between the two bus seats. “Just don’t fall asleep and ask questions.”

Tobin indignantly blew a raspberry. “It’s not my fault I was sleepy after playing a full 90 that one time Alex.”

•

Christen glances up from her book to see Arod slumped forward, movie paused on her phone as she had fallen asleep while braiding Tobin’s uncooperative hair. Hair tie still on her wrist, tresses loosely held between her fingers.

“Arod? Are you done yet?” Tobin asks, anxious to lay her head down for a moment. With no answer she wiggles her head to feel for the tension, pulling herself out of Amy’s slack grip. Tobin makes a little frustrated noise, tucking her hair back behind her ears.

“Hey. Tobin?” Christen doesn’t know what compelled her to reach over and tap Tobin’s shoulder. “Amy fell asleep but I could finish it for you.” Tobin bites the inside of her cheek, fighting the urge to say no. She was having a horrible hair day, one where it just needs to be up and away from her face at all costs and a ponytail wasn’t cutting it. She couldn’t believe she was relenting and letting Christen, a woman who she had a collision with days ago and has annoyed her since before they flew to the UK, do her hair.

Tobin turns, tucking knees under her as she faces the younger player. “Arod usually does a French braid, you know how to do those?” She asks, rolling her eyes at Amy’s sleeping. She’s of course not mad at her friend for falling asleep. They still had an hour till they got to Manchester, and it was pouring summer rain.

“Do I know…” Christen scoffs, pulling a hair tie from her pockets. “I’ve been braiding my sister's hair since I was 7. I think I can manage yours.” Christen is mildly annoyed at the question but doesn’t go any further. There’s really not enough time to address that cultural elephant in the room.

Tobin’s cheeks grow pink and she turns around, leaning her hair back in between the two seats for Christen to reach. “I uh…am not the best at braiding. Perry always told me to stop it when I practiced on her.”

Christen hummed in response, focusing on splitting Tobin’s thick hair into two parts. She’s trying not to get distracted by the smell of cedar and sage shampoo. “Didn’t realize you had a sister. I have two, I’m the middle so I did Channing’s all through school. Tyler always kept hers short.”

Tobin relaxes into the soft touch from Christen as she weaves her fingers through the hair. “Oh I have two too!” She laughs. “I’m the middle since there’s Jeff Jr. he’s a sophomore in college right now.”

“That’s sweet. Probably Channing’s age then.” Christen murmurs as her lower lip worries through her front teeth. Tobin had a few layers in her hair, or just uneven haircuts overall that are making this process difficult.

“I think, I got it.” Christen adds, putting the ponytail holder on the very bottom of the fishtail. A few pieces fell out overall but Tobin swung it over the chair with ease. She questions herself and why she just did what she did. This was Tobin. Someone who Christen found to be immature, standoffish and overall socially incompetent. But she was also there and wanted her hair braided.

“Thanks Christen. It feels good.” Tobin says facing the gap again with a wave at Christen. The younger woman smiled, leaning back in her seat.

Tobin turns back around and she shakes her head. The world wouldn’t end if she was being genuinely courteous to a teammate. That’s all there was to do anyway.

-

Two hours later and a few more blasts of thunder, they were in Manchester.

“Up and at em kiddos!” Pinoe slams her fist on the row of seats, jostling Tobin and Alex awake first. She then steps two inches over and pounds the back of Amy’s seat.

“You're supposed to be at the back of the bus, go away,” Alex croaked, just awake enough to chuck her pillow at Pinoe. The blonde closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in.

“I deserved that.” She tosses the pillow back to Alex. “But seriously, I’m the captain of your floor apparently as Pia puts it, so up. Now. We can sleep after we get back inside.”

Tobin rubs her eyes, squinting at Pinoe’s blurry figure. “Aye aye cap,” she yawns while digging in her backpack for her glasses. She’s pawing around for the stupid giant case when suddenly the backpack slides back across the metal floor.

“Oh come on!” Tobin exclaims, standing up to let Alex pass who hadn’t even noticed the bag movement. She’s too busy chasing down Abby for her room.

“Tobin? You drop this?” Tobin turned around, cheeks red with embarrassment at herself. Christen is holding the half open bag. What she assumes is Christen with the blurry outline of a curly haired figure.

“Damn. First the braid and now this, you probably think I’m a klutz.” She says, taking the bag back from Christen’s hand. Tobin can’t help but notice the warmth of Christen’s hand, the short nails, and soft skin. That quickly gets replaced by the fleeting memory of her embarrassment.

“Yeah well you are one Tobs,” Amy pipes up from her own packing, getting up and sliding her things with her.

“Whoa whoa shots fired!” Tobin threw her hands up mockingly and kept looking around before finally finding the glasses in her seat back bag. She slips them on, giant frames hovering over a small face.

Pinoe got them to eventually leave the bus and enter through the big double doors of the hotel. Manchester. There was an EPL replay on the hotel bar tv. A few people mill around, drinking a pint. A young woman at the front desk came out to greet them.

“You all are on floors 7, 8 and 9 for your stay. Ms. Sundhage already handed your keys over to Ms. Scott. She has them waiting on floor 7. We hope you enjoy the stay, and have a wonderful Olympics ladies.”

Abby ushers the team through the elevators with their bags. Most suitcases had been taken by a bellhop when they parked the bus. Tobin smushes herself up against the elevator wall next to Syd, Pinoe, and Alex.

“Do you think the rooms have bath tubs or just showers? I want to do an ice bath after the game,” Syd asks the group as they mutter amongst themselves.

“I hope they have tubs, I can’t stand those shower stalls. Water gets everywhere!”

“No way, I hate the baths. That’s your dead skin!”

“Who cares I’m stealing the mini soaps.”
-

“What is this whole captain of the floor nonsense Pia?” Heather asks, hands on her hips as the team picks up their room keys in the little lobby floor 7 hosted.

“Yeah, do we need babysitters?” Kelley asks- only to be shushed by Megan with a smack on the shoulder.

Pia raises her hands up to silence the group, giving them a firm response.

“You need chaperones. I will not have loosey goosey team that gets distracted. Each floor captain is in charge of making sure bedtimes are followed. And breakfasts are eaten. Dawn has been preparing yummy schedule, yes? Ya.” She takes a breath, looking at the faces of her young and eager team. “We are going for gold. I want you to help your teammates. Be there for each other. Off to bed. Sleep. Tomorrow is a rest day. But I still want a team walk and one fitness choice. Gym lightly. Or jog. Goodnight.”

Dawn says her goodnight as well, heading to the 8th floor they’d be staying on as staff. There has to, at least in Pia’s mind, be a firm separation that allows the team to still be themselves without a coach watching their every move. This is why they assigned captains but also separated the floors out.

“That’s our cue I guess.” Christen waves Tobin over to find the room number on their key set. The older brunette yawns, walking over to Christen.

“We’re in 707. That should be this way,” Tobin points to a wall that says 705 with an arrow one way and 706 and up another way. Their suitcases had been dropped off by the bellhop already inside the room as they opened the door.

Two full sized beds adorned each corner of the room. There was a mini fridge, desk with room service pamphlets, and a tv on the wall. The window faced east, looking out over the city.

“What bed…” Christen begins to ask only to be cut off by Tobin collapsing on the bed farthest from the door. She shakes her head, dropping her things next to the open bed. This was going to be a long three days.

Tobin sighs, rolling off her stomach and pulling her suitcase to the foot of the bed. “Christen, can I shower first tonight?”

“I was going to shower in the morning. I think we’re both just exhausted. Go set yourself up, I’m going to grab a book.” She replies, opening her backpack. Tobin pulls her ziplock bag out and heads to the bathroom.

There was something…off. Tobin felt between them. She contemplates it while waiting for the shower to warm up. This was Christen. The stuck up girl who played in Sweden and escaped the hellscape of soccer in the US. She just had to get through the next few days. They were curt with each other, that was fine right?

Tobin steps into the warm shower, closing her eyes. She has been through enough camps to handle this. She has roomed with Carli for crying out loud but this felt different. Tobin couldn’t put her finger on why. She didn’t hate Christen. Well she does. Did. Might?

Her cheeks turn pink when she remembers the kindness of the woman on the bus this morning, and the damn braid. Tobin felt bad about taking it out but she did sleep in it on the bus so it had run its course.

Christen was nice to her. She shouldn’t be such a bitch. Tobin thought of herself as a kind person. Mostly. And she would be nicer if Christen…weren’t making her feel embarrassed and judging her.

“Tobin? Are you done yet?”

Tobin wiped the last of her hair product away from her face, growling as she turned off the knob to their bath tub shower.

“Gimmie five,” She yells back, towel drying her hair.

Christen rolls her eyes at the tone. She grumbles to herself “just asking,” while turning a page of her book. Reality was that she was not focused on those pages a bit. All she could hear was the water running through the pipes in the walls behind her head, and it was loud enough for her to give up.

She sets her book down and immediately goes to her toiletry bag, pulling out her hair routine. Just a nourishing creme for the night, since she had straightened it before leaving the US.

“All yours.” Tobin gruffs as she opens the steamy bathroom door. She’s in a pair of ratty gray sweatpants and a tank top that’s sticking to some wet patches of skin. Her hair is damp, sticking to her neck and dripping down her tank sides.

Christen efforts a “Thanks,” closing the door behind her. She takes a deep breath full of whatever cheap travel soap Tobin had with her— something coconutty and crisp sea salt mixed with the cedar shampoo. It keeps her sane when she steps over a puddle from Tobin.

She slips the nourishing creme on the ends of her straightened hair, feeling a sense of relief as she goes through a routine. Moisturizing her face and neck after cleaning, lotion for her legs, and finally brushing her teeth.

The day of travel caught up to her fast, a yawn slipping out as she rinses her brush. Christen walks back into their room, placing her travel clothes in a pop up hamper the team provided. She’s in a button up satin pj top and matching pants, a far cry from Tobin’s mystery year pants and tank top she’s had since a soccer camp in Delaware.

“Goodnight.” Tobin offers gruffly as she turns her side of the room’s lamp off. Christen gets under her own covers, glancing at the older woman.

“Goodnight.”

Chapter Text

It was not a good night. It was far from a Good Night actually. 

Tobin talks in her sleep. Or well…whatever half mumbling incoherent noises where the English language happened that night. 

Christen, being the good roommate she is, is just going to bottle up this lack of sleep. Or so she thought. Thank god they didn’t have any training today. 

She wakes up a little earlier than she’d like, closer to 7am than 8am. Christen pulls the sheets and blanket up on her bed, stealing a glance at the second bed.

Hair disheveled, drool, and a tank top riding up to reveal summer tanned skin all made up the sight of Tobin. Christen shakes her head. She goes to turn on the shower, Tobin’s sleep be damned. 

And damned it was. 

The brunette shoots out of bed while Christen is washing up. She groans at the sound of the water, only thankful for one thing right now. That Christen isn’t someone who listens to music to time their shower. 

The thing she is mostly ungrateful for is her bladder and specifically its need to empty like right now. 

Tobin bites her lip, knowing Christen would be at least another three minutes or five. She decides to dig in her bag for clothes for the day. Her hands rummage through the piles to find a US soccer tee and some basketball shorts. 

Megan: floor captain speaking. Ahem. Announcement. Hotel caf stops serving bfast in 30.

Tobin checks her phone as it dings with Megan’s group text she made for everyone on their floor. Her stomach growls. Skipping breakfast wasn’t an option, not when the cafeteria would have all their carb and protein needs. 

Kling: it’s 7:45 am…why is bfast going away :(

HAO: Pinoe if this if ur plan 2 hoard the bagels it’s not working

Megan: I dont make the rulez! chef sched does. up and at em. 

Tobin: those bagels r mine HAO. i call dibs.

kling: Tobs u can’t call dibs on text 

Megan: kling right. no bueno. get ur ass down here before I come pick it up. Bring roomie princess pressy.

Tobin groans, hastily starting to change only to hear the bathroom door finally unlock with a slight shriek/gasp/exclamation. She jumps, hissing through her teeth with annoyance at Christen’s terrible timing.

“Stop looking at my ass.” She says over her shoulder, shimming up briefs and basketball shorts quickly. Tobin keeps herself moving, trying not to think about what just happened. It’s her teammate, she’s seen her in the locker room. It’s fine. 

“I’m not staring, it was presented to me. A full moon if you will.” Christen retorted back, crossing her arms over her thin tee shirt that stuck to her wet body.

“Maybe that’s punishment for hogging the bathroom and waking me up with the showering.” Tobin gruffed, wedging past her in just a sports bra and shorts to relieve herself. 

“Okay! I was not hogging it. If you had used your words and said you needed to pee, I’d have left earlier.” Christen said through the closed door. “I’m going to breakfast. Don’t forget your keycard.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Tobin rolls her eyes, replying as she washes her hands. She rushes downstairs with her keycard in hand, trying to beat the end of the hot food service. Christen gets ahead of her, scooping eggs, toast, yogurt, and fruit on her plate. A giant cashier bar drops in front of Tobin’s plate. 

“Sorry. Hot bar is now closed,” a posh voice apologizes from behind the counter. She points to the cereal bar. “You might be able to get some bagels before they run out.” 

Tobin takes a breath, picking up her tray. “Thanks…Thea.” She mumbles to the service worker, making her way across the cafeteria area to the cold bar. There’s some cereal, milk, and one blueberry bagel. Not her first choice by any means but a bagel nonetheless. She grabs it, a packet of cream cheese and builds her cereal bowl of cheerios and a hunk of weetabix. 

“What the hell is with closing breakfast at 8am.” Tobin groans as she sets her tray down at the table next to Alex. 

“The next chef is in at 9.” Alex says through a bite of strawberries. “Guess they’re understaffed, but yeah geez. Early!”

“I owe it to Carli’s stupid routine that I got here on time.” Kelley pipes in between bites of eggs. “Tobs you want a bite?” She can see Tobin’s bleary eyes glancing at the plate of scrambled eggs. 

She sighs in resignation to her growling stomach, taking her fork and scooping up a bite from Kelley’s plate. “Thanks Kel. I’m starving, and my roomie hoarded the last plate of ‘em.”

“Protein carboload away my friend,” Kelley says while drinking her orange juice. Alex tsks, taking a bite of her own plate before speaking. 

“You’re with Press right? How’s that?” Tobin furrows her brow at Alex’s question. What was she expecting? She spreads cream cheese on her bagel, shrugging. A quick glance at Christen sitting next to Meghan and Becky. 

“Fine. What else would it be?” Tobin questions her best friend, watching steely blue eyes for any sort of clue behind them. Kelley pipes up. 

“Pressy is like the world's best roommate, we used to room in college all the time. What are you expecting from her Al?” She defends her close friend, speaking from the experience of Christen at Stanford. Blue meets hazel and Kelley pipes down slightly. 

“I was just asking a question.” She says firmly. Tobin raises a brow. 

“You’re eying your competition…you’re so full of shit Al!” Kelley exclaims, pointing at Alex as she uncovers her secret. “She’s an alternate my god, baby horse. Stand down.” 

Alex turns pink, chugging her water to avoid talking to either of them. Tobin could sympathize with her slightly, knowing how hard it is to be certain your position won’t rotate or be pushed from the line up. 

Tobin bites into her bagel, still tasting the disappointment. 

-

Christen decides to explore Manchester by herself. She’s heard amazing things about a bookstore down the road, and her current book is almost finished. Easy as pie. 

So she thought. 

“Are you going somewhere?” Tobin asks as she notices Christen putting her shoes on. She’s in bed, sprawled across it with her phone on her chest having just been in a deep text thread with Arod and Cheney. 

“That would be the reason why I’m wearing shoes. Yes.” Christen responded smartly, adjusting her tote bag gently. 

“Okay. That’s fine. I guess.” Tobin twists the string on her hoodie, gnawing on her bottom lip. She did not want to do this. 

“You don’t have to babysit me, Tobin. I’m going down the street.” Christen says firmly, leaning next to the door. She’s visibly annoyed now. 

“Hey,” Tobin sits up straighter, crossing her arms over her chest as her cell falls into the depths of the bed. “We don’t take chances out here okay.” 

Christen squints, her head tilting at Tobin’s comment as she continues to gather herself. The brunette sighs, hand to her face. 

“What I mean is, I would happily go with you. We always use the buddy system out and about.” She tries to explain, hopping to her feet. 

“Tobin it’s really not—”

“If I don’t Pia will yell. You don’t want to see Pia yell.” Tobin replied, pinching her nose. “Just. Let me come with you.” 

Christen relents with a sigh, tucking her key in her bag. “Get some shoes on.” She grumbles, heading towards the elevator with a quick step. She can’t believe she’s relenting, but part of her knows the older player couldn’t care less and was actually looking out for her. 

Tobin doesn’t need to be told twice. She slips into her toms, grabs a water bottle, and her wallet. Already regretting her choices Tobin decides to take a stab at talking to Christen again in the elevator down. 

“Are we going somewhere fun at least?” She wheedles dramatically, knowing it got on Christen’s nerves. 

“If reading isn’t in your definition, you’ll be sorely mistaken.” Christen chirped, jauntily walking out of the elevator into their lobby. She heads straight into the crisp morning air of Manchester with a grin. As annoying as having Tobin by her side was, she was happy to at least be exploring. 

“We’re going to get more books? You can do that anywhere though!” Tobin argues, wind whipping through her thin hoodie. They begin their walk through the heart of the city on red stone brick sidewalks. 

Christen turns to reply as they wait at a crosswalk. “This is England! Home to literary geniuses! Brilliant minds! The selections are not the same as America. And definitely not the same as LA. Come on, I can probably find something for you to enjoy!”

Tobin raises a brow pointedly, then gestures for them to start crossing. Christen keeps her stride up and going, praying the map book she bought at a tourist shop in London of all the big cities pays off. Syd had mentioned Mapquest before but the mobile phone minutes situation over here was already a nightmare, she couldn’t imagine adding the internet to it. That button will remain untouched. 

“I mean it might be in the middle school section. Or do bookstores come with an insufferable roommates section?” Christen asks with a shit eating grin at Tobin’s immediate red cheeks. She breaks into a laugh. 

“Whatever nerd.” Tobin grits out, following her through the narrow streets. Manchester is…beautiful in its own kind of way. It reminds Tobin of the summer she spent running around NYC with her older sister Katie before college. The one last real summer vacation she’s ever had. There’s artisan market shops on every corner. Galleries with windows and little shawarma carts. It’s definitely vibrant. 

They finally end up in Chapter One Books. A charming, cozy bookshop with patrons mosing around the floors and a few big chairs set up near a fire for storytime. A small cafe brewing coffee for guests as well. 

“You can sit if you’re tired.” Christen says pointedly, gesturing to the chairs by the fire. Tobin rolls her eyes, scoffing. 

“You seriously think I’m some idiot. Maybe I want to read Christen. You ever consider that?” Green eyes narrowed at Tobin’s shit eating smirk, trying to read between her teasing. 

“Meet me at the checkout in like 30? Okay?” Christen compromises, knowing Tobin did not want to spend any more time with her than necessary. “I’m going to the adult section. With the big books. For grownups.” 

Tobin watches Christen walk away and up a staircase, jauntily on her quest for interesting novels as souvenirs. She feels a pang in her chest for a moment, ever so briefly—a fleeting feeling telling her to go upstairs with her. But it passes, Tobin not willing to verbally spar once more.

She turns around, walking through what is downstairs. Considerably a strong religious section, but Tobin feels like sticking with her personal Bible she brought from home for now. She walks through rows of brightly colored children’s books, and mouthwatering cook books to eye catching art books. There’s coffee table photography books with spreads from Ansel Adams, art of Jackson Pollock, and a Tate Modern spread collection. She fingers her way through the pages, staring longingly at the art that made her breath feel freer. 

A biography of Basquiat is in her hands in what feels like minutes. Chairs at tables taken already, but Tobin pays no mind. She sank to the floor like it was her college library in Chapel hill. Fingers helping her read the page, digesting the history behind the artist she had always felt moved by. His work was so influential but so loose. It felt different. 

-

Chapter Text

“Excuse me, are you in the queue?” 

Christen looks up from her phone with three books in her arms and shakes her head. “Sorry. Go in front of me. I’m waiting for someone.” Heat spreads on her cheeks, and she scoots further away from the checkout. 

CP: Tobin?? Where r u?! I’m @ checkout 

CP: I’m going 2 leave. W/O u.

CP: pick up tobin

CP: srsly im worried

Christen throws her head back, groaning at the realization she would have to go searching for her roommate in a giant bookstore she has already covered top to bottom. She looks to her left first, visually scanning the chairs by the fireplace for a petite brunette slouching anywhere. Next stop- cooking section. Christen walks through the tall bookcases, trying not to get distracted by the covers making her stomach growl. Art? Christen squints, not seeing her. 

A lightbulb goes off in her head when her eyes cross over Religion- she remembered Tobin going to a Bible study group the girls had started during one of their send off camps. Christen heads into that section, fingers dancing along the spines of the various sacred texts and hard hitting research books on topics like The Church of England. 

There’s a few people milling about, but none were the lanky brown haired soccer player she had eyes out for. It was getting later than Christen wanted, closer to the late team lunch Pinoe had assigned them. She lets out an exaggerated groan while turning a corner to the children’s section. 

Christen rolls her eyes, trudging through the brightly colored books about monkeys jumping on a bed, and elephants saying hello. She gets to the corner near the small children’s play area with a big carpet, only to see an empty aisle next to it. She’s frustrated now. 

Christen isn’t one to rush into judgements but a few choice ones started to run through her head. She’s known Tobin longer than the two acknowledge, having played against her in not only college but on a development team between leagues. She was a reserve while Tobin got starting 11. She lost against her twice in college. Christen can’t help but feel a twinge in her gut that the more established player had left her.

“I wouldn’t go out there if I were you,” An older heavily accented voice breaks through Christen’s racing thoughts. “Absolutely pissin’ out.” An elderly man was shaking off his raincoat and closing his umbrella in a bag in the front of the shop. 

“Oh wow gee…thank you.” Christen replied in kind, glancing out the window to see the rain storm through the city. Another thing for her to be annoyed about. No one had warned them how much it rains in the summer in England. 

“Tobin. Pick up.” She muttered to herself, calling for the fifth time to get Tobin’s dumb voicemail full warning before hanging up. Christen rolls her eyes at the cell in her palm and shoves it back in her pocket. 

This felt useless. And she wasn’t about to waste the rest of her afternoon on Tobin. Christen marches towards the checkout line. She purchases the books quick enough, staring at the doors one last time. Still raining. 

Christen’s eyes flick back towards the walls of bookshelves. She scans the floor, scans the seating, the aisles for her roommate before finally giving up. She pushes open the heavy doors and walks into the storm. 

-

Tobin hadn’t meant to get sucked into the book. She really had just wanted to waste time before Christen checked out. But pages flipped turned into minutes spent. And more minutes. And more minutes. 

Only did a stomach growl break Tobin from her reading haze. “Ohmygod!” She yelps, looking down at her watch to see it nearing 1:30pm. She had been there for hours. 

Christen. Tobin shoots up, snapping the book closed and shoving it onto the last shelf she saw open. A ping of embarrassment flushed her cheeks, she hated leaving things in the wrong place for the staff to deal with but this felt like an emergency. 

The store had only picked up more business since the rain started, offering quiet relief. Tobin walks along the aisles, squinting for the Black woman but coming up empty. The checkout is full, and Tobin hopes this could be her chance. Once she gets closer, the reality sets in. 

Christen was no longer inside the bookstore. Anger rose in her gut quickly. She had told the younger player to stay with her! “Rookies…never learn,” Tobin grumbles like she hadn’t only been called in one cycle before her. She really had no leg to stand on, especially considering the antics the new kids had done their first call ups. 

Her eyes catch a young man pull a cell out of his pocket and her reaction is faster than a bullet. Tobin’s hands are furiously checking every pocket for the damn piece of metal she knew wasn’t there. It sat on her bed in the hotel. She had no way to contact Christen. 

“For the love of god,” She exclaims, exacerbated at the circumstances of her life while pushing herself through the big glass double doors out into the streets of Manchester. Rain fell steadily but Tobin couldn’t find it in her to care about that. She needed to make it back to the hotel, with her teammate. 

“Christen!” Tobin yells out into the gust of wind rolling through the alley streets like she was searching for a ghost. There were so many people still out and about, enjoying the summer rain, and living their lives. She couldn’t look through them all enough to find Christen. 

After going up and down the block at least 5 times Tobin decides to turn and go back the way she knew they came from the hotel. She’s pissed off. Soaked. And the source of her ire is…

Right there. 

She’s seen at least three women with dark straightened hair cross her direction but none of them had been Christen. It feels like a false positive. But Tobin knows that stature. She’s stared at it far too many times on the pitch.

“Where the hell have you been?!” “Where the hell have I been? Where have you been Tobin?” 

Their shouting echoes across the brick wall buildings. Tobin is firm, arms crossed and jaw set. Her damp shirt hangs to her body, latched on to every possible curve there could be on her lithe frame. 

“Well?! Are you going to answer me?” Christen demands harshly, stepping forward into Tobin’s space. She’s pissed off, equally as soaked with water dripping down her forehead. Christen stands tall with her chest forward. 

“Me? What about you?” Tobin flipped her question back immediately. “I told you not to go off alone, and what is the first thing you do?!” She asks incredulously like she would chastise her brother for running off. She doesn’t believe whatever comes out of Christen’s mouth. 

Christen chokes down a laugh, green eyes venomous with her anger. “You could have followed me, mother dearest. I couldn’t find you in that bookstore, and you don’t answer that damn phone when I call!” 

There’s people on the street staring at them now. Figured they’d notice two Americans yelling. Tobin feels heat rise to her cheeks. The last thing they needed was anyone to figure out their identities with the team. 

“I…” She looks down, feeling downright stupid at this moment. “I forgot my phone in the hotel. I’m sorry.” Tobin slouches down into her heels, knowing she shouldn’t have left the phone for a thousand reasons including this situation with her roommate.

Christen rolls her eyes at her. “You’re sorry. That doesn’t explain any of this. Why are you so mad if you—-”

“Youse are blocking the street! Get moving,” An exasperated shopkeeper comes out to shoo them away. They’ve been yelling in front of his flower shop for at least 15 minutes and blocking the doorway unknowingly. The pair jump apart, a cart of bouquets making their way between them as he sets up an outside display. There’s a fleeting moment where each woman is glancing at the one she’ll enjoy before they come to their senses again. 

“I am so sorry. We’ll be leaving.” Christen demurely apologizes, gesturing to Tobin to move along with her down the street. The brunette rolls her eyes, walking along. She can see Christen’s leggings get darker by the second, splotches of heather gray across her toned calves and across her ass. Tobin’s eyes lingered, possibly a fraction longer than they should. 

“I’m still mad at you.” Tobin mutters as they come to a stop at a bench. 

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” Christen barks back, pulling out her phone. There’s a few missed messages on there but the one that caught her eye was Kelley. 

KO: heyyyyyy u still lookin for tobs?

KO: i have an idea 

KO: not idea. Plan. Maybe.

KO: Syd told me abt renting hourly mopeds

CP: found her. So mad rn. What would a moped help.

KO: i can pick u up and show u

KO: how far from hotel

CP: idk we are by…

CP: Florals by Ivan. Can u see it on maps

KO: say less. see u soon cpth

CP: Never attach our names like that again. ew. 

“If you stick your nose in that phone one more time I'm ‘leaving’ again.” Tobin says with air quotes hanging on her words. Christen looks up, thin brows raised. 

“Oh. You’ll leave again. That’s sweet.” She dry laughs in mockery. “It was Kelley. She’s picking us up because we both don’t know where we are, it’s going to storm again, and we shouldn’t be hiking back to the hotel.” 

Tobin’s eyes narrow. She puts aside the insults for now to a more pressing issue. “Kelley is picking us up in what exactly?” She asks while sitting up. Christen can tell Tobin’s asking for a reason and it makes her stop for a moment. “In what Christen.” She repeats herself. 

“Moped with Syd. Why?” Christen looks back down at her phone to see a thumbs up from Kelley. Tobin groans. 

“I never told you this if Dawn or Pia ask, by the way! They leave the keys for the team vans at hotels in the stupidest open places.” She explained, hands moving exasperatedly. “She should have taken one of those.” 

Christen breaks into a hearty laugh. It’s from her chest and Tobin flusters at it. It’s the first time she’s heard her laugh heartily beyond a polite giggle. Something about it dances in her ears. The annoyance settled back in quickly.

“It’s not funny! I’m trying to give you tips! Kelley knows she can get the van too!” At this point Tobin’s ears were practically burning with embarrassed heat and her eyes were nearly black with frustration. 

Christen crosses her arms over her chest, grinning impishly. “It’s a little funny Tobin. You’re encouraging grand theft auto.”

Before Tobin could find her words the sound of an engine rev broke the pair out of their little angry bubble on the bench. Two mopeds wrapped in the Union Jack come to a screeching halt in front of them. Their knights in shining…us soccer gear. 

“Heard you needed a ride?” Kelley says, parking the scooter and hopping off. Christen rushes over, swinging her arms around Kelley in a giant hug. 

“You are a lifesaver Kells!” “It’s no big deal, really!”

Syd got off her scooter, going to Tobin and smacking her shoulder gently.

 “Ow! What was that for?!” Tobin complains, rubbing the spot and glaring at the younger player. Syd chuckles, squinting up at the sky. She’s trying to figure out if the rain will return. Britain would have hell to pay if her hair gets wet, again. 

“For making rookie Christen scared shitless and for making us come rescue your foolish asses.” She says, gesturing for Tobin to join her on the scooter. The brunette grumbles and slides on, situating herself around Syd’s side. 

“Is this even legal?” Christen wonders aloud as she gets on the back of Kelley’s only to be answered with a shrug by both her and Syd. 

“What manchester doesn’t know won’t hurt it!” Kelley chuckles, revving up and cruising down the side of the street. They were able to use bike lanes to get around, the moped a sort of scooter motorcycle hybrid after all. 

Kelley had google maps directing her the entire way, much to Christen’s stomach’s protest. After a few choice turns, and pushing the boundaries of how fast a tourist moped could go, they’re home. And home is US soccer’s finest hotel. 

“You made it back in one piece!” 

“You owe me 15 bucks baby horse.”

“You got Pinoe and Alex in on this mess? Kelley I swear to god…” Christen slides off the moped to hear Alex and Pinoe sharing bets. 

“They inserted themselves.” She waved Christen off, strutting over to the pair with a shit eating grin. “Back in one piece, got both of them, and not a single nick on the scooters. Take that Al.”

“I stand corrected in my previous assumption,” The dark haired woman responded coolly to Kelley. Her steely eyes however are on Christen, watching her head past Pinoe and back into the hotel lobby. She could read anger on the forward’s body, which peaked her interest. 

“Thanks again Syd,” Tobin says as she climbs off and shoves her hands in her hoodie pocket. The younger Black woman shakes her head. 

“You still aren’t welcome.” She chides. “I just followed Kelley on a moped pursuit worthy of the fast and the furious. All because of your foolery.” 

Tobin knows Syd’s frustration is out of genuine care, which is why she’s not taking great offense to the behavior. She settles with it and follows the group back inside the lobby. Alex hangs back as Pinoe skips forward with Kelley. They’re already starting to probe Christen about her adventures.

“No we did nothing of the sort-”

“Well jeez act happier then kiddo,”

“I’m only four years younger than you Megan.”

“And 50 caps, watch it.”

Tobin’s pulled over from the group with a tug at her damp jacket. Alex. “Lex, what,” Patience wearing thinner than a drive thru napkin. Blue eyes met brown with a knowing glance. 

“What the hell happened today Tobin?” She asks point blank as they sink into the overly plush lobby couch. It’s empty now, more than they’d like, but still secluded in an area near a piano and other window seating. Tobin wishes she could sink through it and to the floor. Her brain is fumbling with an answer for her best friend. 

“We went out. We got lost.” She spits out to Alex’s dismay. The striker rolls her eyes. 

“This can go the easy way or the hard way Heath.” Alex is firm in a way that she knows gets under Tobin’s skin. It’s a useful skill on the pitch, it’s demanding and curt. Tobin’s jaw squares and her lower lip threads itself between her front teeth. 

“I just told you-” Tobin stops herself, turning to face Alex more. She shakes her head. “I didn’t want her to go out alone. I was being a good roommate!”

Alex scoffed a little. The midfielder looks back at her friend, brows furrowed at the noise.

“Is something funny Al?” Tobin’s voice is heavy now with frustration. The younger player replies simply. 

“You’ve never worried about me going out alone.” 

Tobin’s face drops. She doesn’t get what Alex means. Of course she’s worried about Alex before! She’s her best friend. She’s always offered to go with her or Kelley or…

“You never worry. I just go. I know she’s a rookie but you never…you always offered to go I guess but I had solo adventures the whole time…” Alex clarified, seeing the confusion etched across her friend’s sweet, sweet face. She kind of reveled in the fact that she had the power to bring Tobin to a standstill like this. On her most rambling days, on her quiet days. 

“I trust you Al. It’s different! Who knows what a rookie could get into…I was being nice. That’s all. And I regret it- clearly. Made everything worse. Left my stupid phone in the room so she couldn’t find me until we started to give up and run into the street.” Tobin runs a hand through her messy hair, taking a deep breath. “She’s just naive. We shouldn’t have gone out like this the day before a game in this weather too.” 

Alex hums in agreement, a warm hand stretching across Tobin’s damp knee. “You’re gonna catch something if you stay in these any longer. Come on, I got spares in my room. You can tell me more up there.” 

Tobin doesn’t even try to protest the dark haired woman, following her up without a second thought. Oblivious to the idea that Christen could be waiting for her in their shared room. 

Chapter Text

“So then Kels comes barging into the yoga group, and Amy could have killed her—”

“Wait! Amy knows?! No, I cannot have Arod up my ass about this.” Tobin whines from inside the scalding hot shower as Alex keeps walking her through what she knew from before Kelley’s return with the pair. She’s sat on the toilet lid, filing her white nails.

“Amy, Lauren, Becky, Kling, and HAO actually. Oh and obviously Syd.”

“I’m going to kill Kelley.” Tobin groans, closing her eyes under the water. She is moving as slow as she can.

“She barges in out of breath and just says ‘who can drive.’ Which actually isn’t a crazy question because apparently Kling’s is expired, but of course we’re here so she couldn’t deal with it.” Alex pauses briefly to set her nail file in her toiletries bag and pulls out a lotion for her hands. “Anyway. Syd jumps up to offer to be your knight in shining armor. Just says she’s driven in England before, which is you know. Useful after all.”

Tobin is shampooing her hair, trying to get every last sud through her scalp to wash the day off.

“How has she…you know what I don’t even want to know,” She finishes that thought before it truly starts. Alex lets out a chuckle at it.

“So you think she’ll ever be called up again?” She muses lazily. Tobin sticks her head out, reaching over Alex for a deep conditioner she sat on the cabinet over the toilet. The striker hands it over without looking, arm grazing past Tobin’s chest.

Tobin pulls back into the shower like lightning, closing her eyes as hard as she could. Fuck.

“Wh-hat do you mean? Christen?” She stutters out, trying not to think about the arm that just touched her chest. It’s Alex. Her best friend. But that reaction has been happening…a lot lately for Tobin. Whatever she says to herself. Chalks it up to sensitive skin.

“Ugh, yeah,” Alex confirms, going to squeeze out her jacket on a towel. She got a little wet when handing over the conditioner. “Obvs not over this incident. Pia still doesn’t know. But I mean like. Skills wise. She’s an alternate and I just don’t think I could do that. Sit and wait for someone to be injured so I can play.”

Tobin washes her hair out, humming in agreement. “I can barely stand being on the bench. She’s a solid shot though, don’t you think?”

She turns off the water, pulling her towel in behind the curtain to dry off as Alex turns around to face the wall. They’ve been gossiping in showers since they first got called up together. Nothing they haven’t seen in locker room states of undress but Alex knows Tobin is more conservative than her about all of that.

“Don’t I know it.” She rolls her eyes, hands on her hips. “You know like, in the call ups to camp before I felt like. The forward line is old. And that maybe I’m staying on this team for more than this tournament but she’s the only person I think that could ever take it from me.” Alex reveals with vulnerability, turning around once Tobin has herself wrapped up in a towel.

The midfielder nods, trying to put herself in Alex’s shoes. She understands the struggle Alex is describing for sure.

“Okay but she plays for a club out in Sweden, which is just weird. Like you know she could find something here if she tried unfortunately.” Tobin found herself saying as she headed over to the bed where Alex had laid out old spare nike gear. The midfielder shimmied into it quickly, grateful for something warm and soft on her skin.

“Thanks Al, these are good.” She added, gathering up her wet gear in her arms. Alex shrugged, shaking her head.

“No big deal. Seriously, you know they sent me stuff on top of the team gear because I’m signed so I am swimming in Nike.” She explained with a casual hand wave. “Should I release you to Christen’s wrath?”

Tobin grimaced, knowing her fate was behind the door of her suite with Christen. Alex isn’t impressed by the grimace, brow raising.

“I really don’t want to go.” She wheedled, flopping back onto Abby’s bed. “Like. I know she’ll want to talk and all that and Al we just did that. There’s not much more I can say on the topic..”

Alex chucked Tobin’s wet clothes into her pop up hamper, hands falling to her hips after. She gives Tobin a knowing face. “You gotta face it.”

“Gotta face what now?” Abby walks into the hotel room, her bag of gym clothes at her side. Tobin rolls up, swinging herself over to get off her teammate’s bed. Abby waves her off, shaking her head that she didn’t mind.

“Al don’t you dare” “Tobin had an interesting afternoon and now has to face Christen’s wrath.” Alex says smartly, giving Tobin a look as the midfielder turned pink.

“I already did! Technically!” Tobin argued back, pulling the sleeves of the sweatshirt farther down her arms. Abby chuckled, crossing over to dump her clothes in the pop up hamper.

“Do I even want to know?” she asked, sitting on the corner of the bed to take off her shoes. Tobin shook her head quickly.

“You know Abby was going to hear it eventually, Tobs. The entire team will.” Alex shrugged, waving her hands towards the door. “Now shoo, go be an adult about it!”

Tobin stood up with a steely glare, making her way to the doorway. “You’re the worst Al!” She makes sure to say before leaving to cross the hall to her own room.

With a deep breath, Tobin swipes her keycard in until the green light tells her its unlocked.

“Christen? Are you here?” She tentatively asks into the space while opening the door.

“Present. Not sure the same could be said for you.” Christen replies coolly, propped up in bed with a book in her hands. She’s got big black rimmed glasses on, the ones that are just almost too big for her. It softens the tension in the air by a degree Tobin thinks.

“Alex pulled me aside and I just showered in her room. Sorry if you were expecting me.” Tobin replies with a touch of firmness. She feels like she’s on a tightrope and each syllable could be a death trap.

Christen places a bookmark in her book, closing it and setting it on her nightstand. The only other sound in the room was their breathing. She swings herself around to the side of the bed, getting up and going straight up to Tobin’s face.

“We’re teammates and stuck with each other. But I won’t be your friend. I won’t get involved in your shenanigans, Heath.” Christen is looking down at her just slightly, and it makes Tobin feel…hot. The sweatshirt was suddenly too heavy. She can’t breathe.

“This is bull Christen! If you would just listen-”
“Oh you think I haven’t been?” Christen snarled, eyes darkening as she got more frustrated with the midfielder. Tobin clenched her jaw, holding her fists down to her side- flexing to relieve the tension over and over again.

“Stop it.” Tobin’s voice grew low, gravelly. She steps forward, only inches apart from the younger player. “Christen. I got interested in a book and there were no seats open so I sat on the floor. You must not have seen me. I lost track of time and then you weren’t at the checkout counter. My phone was stupidly left here. So you couldn’t text me. So I went outside looking for you.”

She explains in full this time, crossing her arms. Christen moves to speak but Tobin points her index finger in her face. “So if you think for a second that I abandoned you, that I up and left you then maybe I haven’t been clear about showing who I am to you. You know what,” The midfielder scoffs, pulling herself back from Christen’s wide eyes and unchanging expression. “It’s honestly insulting. I don’t do that to people, Christen. I don’t.”

They stand in silence for what feels like infinity. A stomach growl interrupts the room and cheeks glow red.

“Sorry. We kinda missed lunch.” Christen mumbles, her expression breaking. A glimpse of a smile danced across Tobin’s lips but she would never tell you so. “Look. Tobin I hear what you’re saying. But, I was lost and alone on the streets of Manchester. You have to see how scary that was—”

“Yes. I know because so was I! That’s the point!” Tobin cuts her off, anger flashing again. Both women were stopped in their tracks by their door opening with Cheney standing in the frame.

“Bad time?” She asked, running a hand through her hair with a grimace at the state of the two younger players.

“Extremely,” “No, Tobin and I-”

“Don’t care. Dinner is now and you two missed a meeting we had as players after lunch, so you gotta sit with Boxxy!” Cheney chirped, swinging her arm around Tobin while the smaller player grabbed her key card and ID with annoyance.

Christen takes a breath, gathering herself. “Thanks Lauren.” She says before beelining to the elevator and riding down with other players. Tobin walked slowly with Cheney’s arm around her, knowing that her friend wanted to talk.

“How bad is it?” She asked, putting her hands in her pockets. Cheney smiled knowingly at one of her best friends, having expected Tobin’s reaction.

“Kelley won’t shut up about her great moped rescue so there’s that. I don’t know what is going on with Christen and you, but what I do know is the kindness in your heart. I know the strength of Him that runs through you. So I guess I’m a little confused,” Cheney says as they settle into an empty elevator, still attached over the arm. “As to why you’re fighting so much. Christen is sweet, she’s an alternate who is so helpful to have. This bickering doesn’t even make sense thinking about the roster.”

Tobin pulls herself out from under Cheney’s arm, listening to the bell ding as their elevator counted the floors down. She shakes her head, “it’s not about playing time.”

Cheney lets her walk out of the elevator and into the lobby to find their cafeteria. It’s a meeting room converted to have chairs and tables, along with a few salad bars for food service. “You’re going to have to explain more then.”

Tobin pulls out a tray, sliding along to grab the dinner meal. Tonight was a pot roast, hearty and filling. She adds a small salad and water. “She just gets under my skin, what can I say?”

Cheney gives her a look while loading up her own plate. “That’s juvenile.” She comments, heading off towards the table Amy sat at already. “Go see Boxxy.”

Tobin rolls her eyes, “you’re juvenile,” she mutters under her breath, stalking towards the table Boxx sat at with Lori, Hope, Rampone, Buehler. Christen sat at the far opposite of the last open chair.

It was a very boring meeting after all. Tobin simply stayed shut, nodding her head and inhaling her food while the veteran players walked through leadership tactics and other relevant game information. Christen did similarly, almost mimicking her roommate at some points in their listening.

“So Heath what’s this I’m hearing from O’Hara about some crazy situation involving mopeds this afternoon?” Hope asks, leaning over to pour herself more water from the table pitcher as the dinner time crew thinned out. Tobin wants to bury herself in her chair. She shakes her head.

“Press and I got separated and kells came to the rescue, it’s really nothing.” She tries to throw Hope off her scent with the bare minimum of what went on. The veteran player’s dark eyebrows raise.

“Hm. Kelley loves an exaggeration I suppose,” She mused. Tobin nods in agreement, hoping that it would blow over the camp rumor mill quickly. “You should get some sleep, gotta stay awake and alert for your sub in.”

Tobin yawns, all too aware that the day had been exhausting. While walking to clean her tray she realized this meant she’d have to go back to see Christen again. Her stomach swooped. She thought about their fight and how frustrating it was.

There was a point where Tobin had given up trying to explain her feelings, and just reacted to the accusations Christen was insinuating towards. She hated the idea that Christen thought she left her, never mind the fact that Tobin was the one who had actually been left behind in the store alone without a care in the world.

And all she wanted to do right now was sleep. But something told Tobin that Press would not let anything go.

“Tobin!”

The midfielder is brought out of her daze by a short blonde in her face.

“Arod…can you not.” Tobin finishes dumping her tray and rubs her eyes. She steps back from Tobin with a deep breath.

“Okay, listen miss crankypants.” Amy drags her along towards the hall to the elevator. “We were gonna play never have I ever with some items that may or may not be confidential. Your choice. Sleep or meet us in Abby and Al’s room.”

Tobin’s ears perked up. She faces Amy with a squint. “Items huh. Gee guess I’ll make my way there.”

It’s usually just a soda or candy Dawn didn’t know about, none of them would dare do anything else before game day. But Tobin liked the camaraderie.

“Sweet! And bring Pressy, I didn’t get a chance to invite her!”

Chapter Text

Tobin walked back to her room, key card swiping her in. Christen was already back in bed reading. Glasses on and only the light at her bedside glowing.

“Hey.” Tobin says, already cutting through their weird tension. Christen doesn’t look at her, engrossed in the book. Tobin rolls her eyes, already fed up with the childish petulance. “Okay look. I’m going to Alex and Abby’s for a game night with some of the other gals. You’re welcome to come. And I mean that. You are welcome to stay here and read, but Arod wanted you to come. So it’s not just a pity invite or whatever.”

She rustles around the room, grabbing a pillow and some playing cards she kept stashed in a backpack. Trades contacts for glasses, and throws her hair up in a loose and messy ponytail.

Christen Press would be the death of her.

“Tobin.” The younger woman spoke softly, the book closing shut. “I’ll go.”

Tobin spun around in her tracks, eyes wide. She did not expect the bookworm to take her up on the offer. At the very least she considered the other woman would have slunk in twenty minutes later.

They walked together to the room in silence, mostly so they didn’t tip off Hope or anyone likely to tell Pia. They were definitely out past the team curfew.

Tobin knocked on Alex and Abby’s door with a distinct one then three beat rap.

“What on earth are you doing?” Christen asked incredulously. Tobin shook her head.

“You’ll see. Don’t knock it, till you try it.” She smirks as the door knob twists. Christen laughs.

“That’s terrible. You’re ridiculous!” She admonishes playfully at the joke as Kelley ushers them into the room. The lights are off except some glow sticks, a light up magic plasma ball orb, and a few flashlights. Arod, Cheney, Alex, Abby, Pinoe, HAO, Kling, Becky and Syd all sat in something of a circle. Becky and Kling sat off to the side, they had a deck of cards out already playing rummy. Pinoe and HAO are on the bed laying on their stomachs, Abby is next to Pinoe’s side of the bed.

“Geez, enough people in here?” Tobin remarks, throwing her pillow next to Alex. Kelley smirks.

“I can go get Hope if you waaaaant,” She sings until she’s smacked in the arm by Pinoe. “Ok ouch!”

“If you even think about telling that soul sucking gremlin about tonight, I’m locking you under the bus with our luggage next trip.” The bleach blonde threatens. HAO swings her legs off the edge of the bed, laughing at her friends.

Christen is a bit unsure where to plop herself down. She doesn’t know everyone too well and is a bit anxious. They're all chatting amongst themselves and she feels lost. She’s climbing through her teammates in an awkward step.

“Oh you brought pressy! Why didn’t you say so dude!” Kelley notices her and haphazardly makes her way through the lights and pillows to Christen.

“Kells! I am going to trip over someone, geez.” Christen complains, crossing her arms over her sides. She’s thankful to see her college teammate.

“Just like old times buddy! Dorm party!” Kelley laughs, swinging an arm around her shoulder and guiding her to the other side of the room the best she could. “Sit please.” She motions to the floor next to her. In a row sat Alex, Tobin, Kelley, Christen and Syd.

“I have gathered my dearly beloved here tonight—”
Kelley coughs as Tobin elbows her in the side to stop wasting their time. The room chuckles.

“Spit it out O’Hara!” Syd whisper shouts, knowing they have to be somewhat quiet. Next to Alex and Abby’s room was empty on one side, and the other had Syd and Cheney. So the coast is mostly clear. Across the hall however is LePeilbet and Rampone. Christie is usually cool but Amy can be a stickler.

“Okay okay! I have a six pack of Fanta, and some cokes. A bag of sour snakes, a box of some British chocolates, and please thank Pinoe for the Doritos bag!” Kelley pulls out a backpack with the goodies inside of it. Christen scoffs.

“Seriously, this is it?” She wonders out loud and Tobin rolls her eyes immediately at the tone.

“Is this not good enough for you princess?” She counters, fist full of sour snakes with sugar falling off into the carpet. Christen’s cheeks turn red and she is thankful for once that the lights are low.

“Hey! Be nice Tobs.” Alex plays middleman, nudging her best friend a bit. “She’s new, she doesn’t know how good this is when it’s been months of diets and whatever lovely Dawn can find to cure our period cramps.”

Kelley has a fist full of Doritos, dust already across her lips. She nods at Alex’s statement.

“You uh,” munch. “Didn’t get the whole call up treatment with the training and the camps and the prep in LA.” Munch. “But Dawn bless her heart, love her. She won’t stop!” Munch.

Alex gives Kelley a look and swallows her chocolate. “What Kelley is so rudely trying to say is that this is our little pre game rebellion against the boiled chicken and brown rice, and the gross spinach shakes. But it’s also time for the games!” She explains and claps once.

Everyone grows quiet aside from munching.

“Never have I ever. Everyone is familiar?” Nods around the circle grow. Alex grins toothily.

“Never have I ever…been late to training.”

Everyone rolls their eyes and takes a sip of their respective drinks. Tobin glanced at Christen taking a sip.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for being late Press.” She says egging on the younger player. Tobin can’t quite place why she wants to get under Christen’s (tanned) skin. Maybe as payback for earlier that day. Maybe to make a point. Maybe it was the way she pouted with her lower lip.

Christen closes her lid, licking her lips framed in the light of the orb nearby. “I’ll have you know it was only because there was construction in the quad at Stanford. And once in Sweden because I couldn’t read the street signs.”

Syd raises a hand. Kelley points to her.

“Okay since Alex was absolutely lame-”
“That was on purpose to warm us up” the striker protests, taking another chocolate from the box. Tobin reached into the box at the same time, fingers playfully pushing Alex away from the piece they were both trying to grab. “Tobs!” “Al,” “stop it,” “no you stop it” “gimmie”— a cough ends their little tussle.

“Since she was being lame on purpose. Never have I ever skinny dipped.” Sydney clarified, smirking at Alex’s playful protest.

Becky, Kelley, Tobin, Alex, Pinoe, and Syd drink.

“BECKY?” Kelley nearly shouts to the dismay of others. The defender blushes during her swig.

“What. It was the summer before college. We all dared each other at the lake back home. And I don’t say no to a challenge.” She smiled, taking a sour snake.

Cheney tsked at Tobin who just shrugged. “God made us naked, nothing he hasn’t seen.” She’s nonchalant about it and doesn’t clarify where, when, or why.

Christen coughs.

“Alex?” Arod questions with a brow raise. Alex grinned, ripping off a gummy’s head. “Which time?”

Pinoe whistles low at the banter. No one asks her to explain herself, all of them far too familiar with Pinoe’s ability to be found in various states of undress—incidentally. They have all seen her abs, boobs, ass, and thighs far too often to remark on anymore.

“Okay okay! Becky you can do the honors now.” Kelley assigns the fellow defender the next round with a tap to the knee. She is laying on her side with a sour snake hanging out the side of her mouth, freckles dusted with sugar.

“Never have I ever…done it in a hot tub.” a chorus of whoops echo through the room at the explicit question.

Becky, Pinoe, Syd, HAO and Christen drink. “You are all so juvenile!” Cheney admonishes the group. Her and Amy had promise rings on from their boyfriends. But…if you asked Cheney there may have been some fooling around under the belt.

Tobin stares at Christen taking another sip. “We fooled around. He was in me for like. Negative two seconds.” She mumbles, shaking her head at the bad experience. Tobin feels hot, her hands clammy. She knew tonight would get raunchy, it usually does. But something is making her…unwell. It’s too warm in the room. There’s too many people.

“Al, can we open a window?” She asks, tugging at the collar of her sweatshirt. Alex sets her Fanta down, nodding. “Of course, Tobs.” She gets up and opens the hotel window letting the cool breeze come through.

“Never have I ever faked an orgasm!” Pinoe interjects, hand raised. She drinks, Syd drinks, and so does Kling.

“Meggy megs what on earth?” Pinoe asks the younger player who throws her arms up in defeat.

“I really. Really liked this girl and she was horrible in the sack. Like. I thought some dude was poking around down there.” Kling exclaims. The room breaks out in laughter. Pinoe shakes her head. “Shucks mine was just because I was trying a man and that was never happening again.”

“His dick was so small I wanted a magnifying glass.” Syd sighed, taking her swig of Fanta.

“You straight girls with your problems.” Abby tsks, dorito in her hand. Kling closes her eyes, trying to come up with an idea.

“Oh! Never have I ever had a secret relationship!” Kling says with a smile. She doesn’t drink. But Tobin and Pinoe do. And Tobin expected more people to. She was just being honest.

“Whoa whoa. I know why I did Kiddo, gay in a rural town but you?” Pinoe holds her hands up, scooting down on the bed closer to Tobin who has her eyes closed as she’s being questioned.

She set the Fanta down on the floor, her heart beating fast. She was still overheated and her stomach felt queasy from all the sour snakes. goddamnit Pinoe.

“It was. It was um.” Tobin stuttered a bit, pulling at her sleeves. She was just playing along with the game and hadn’t even realized what she admitted to. “This girl in my high school. We’d meet and she made out with me behind the gym after soccer practice.”

Alex is the first to react, her posture straightening. Blue eyes wide in the beam of a flashlight. “You’re gay?!”

Tobin closes her eyes again, wishing she could sink into the floor. She should not have said that.

“Oh Alex calm down, it’s no big deal. Let her be!” Pinoe argues, sliding off the bed and crawling closer to Tobin. “Come here Tobs, love you dude.”

Tobin falls into Pinoe’s warm hug, letting her racing thoughts still for a moment. “Thanks Megan.” She mumbles, face squished against the fabric of the older player’s tee. Everyone is chattering amongst themselves and Pinoe speaks up again.

“If any of you give her crap about this, you’ll have hell to pay.” She reiterates, looking in Alex’s stunned direction. The striker puts her hands up, shaking her head.

“I just thought, you’d tell me something like that, Tobs.” Alex says with a pout. “I’ve been your closest friend for ages. We tell each other everything! I tried to set you up with so many guys!”

Tobin rubs her eyes under her glasses, still feeling a bit embarrassed. She feels like a little kid. And her stomach is churning with all the eyes staring at her. “Al. It’s not you. I just. I don’t know what I am. I like people. I don’t…”

“That’s okay too! Alex let her be,.” Abby says, watching Tobin crawl out of Pinoe’s arms for some space. Christen is watching her intently, but staying silent.

Kling is red faced, regretting her choices as well. She begins blubbering. “Tobin, I’m sorry I didn’t expect this game to out you,”

“You didn’t out me Kling. I volunteered the information, it’s not like. Something I’m ashamed of. It’s just, I don’t tell a lot of people.” Tobin stated to the younger player, hearing the chattering around them dampen. “And you don’t know that. I don’t hold anything against you, that’s not…not right.”

“You don’t owe us anything Tobin,” Becky says gently, reaching for some more candy. Syd nods in agreement. HAO speaks up, “I think…maybe we should phone this one in, guys. It’s getting late.”

Tobin breathes in relief. Heather rubbed her shoulder as she got up to gather everyone to go to bed. “You’re a good kid, Tobs.”

The room groans at HAO being the only adult there and deciding to shut down the party. Kelley relents and agrees as they look at the time. They start packing up the sugary snacks and the drinks. Throw them away in a plastic bag hidden under the bed with the other stash, they’d be thrown out at the end of their stay.

The lights are turned on and a chorus of groans respond. “Out. See you tomorrow for breakfast of champions ladies!” Abby starts ushering them out of the room.

“Tobin, wait. I just. You can always tell me about boys, girls—whoever. I was caught off guard, that's all.” Alex said, shaking her head at herself. Tobin nods. “Thanks Alex. It means a lot, actually. We’re cool. See you tomorrow dude.”

She makes her way past another half hug from Abby with a hair ruffle “That’s my gay kid!” and shuffles towards her room. Christen had slipped through just a little quicker, opening the door for them both.

“That was a mess tonight.” Christen remarks as Tobin squeezes past her to get inside. She flops on her bed with a groan.

“I don’t know what came over me. I usually don’t…” The midfielder is so in her head she forgets about Christen’s vow of silence against her and their tiff from earlier.

“Usually don’t what?” Christen asked as she moved around to gather her pjs and tomorrow’s outfit set out on the dresser.

“Like. Answer those dumb things. Don’t get me wrong, I play the game. But I lie, usually. But it was so hot in there and I…” Tobin rips off the sweatshirt, left in just a sports bra and her shorts. The dim light casts a shadow over her abdomen, tracing along the outline of a soft toned pack of abs.

Christen acknowledges her with a hm while her eyes try to look everywhere but the bed. She keeps glancing at the muscles on display. “I mean it doesn’t hurt to be honest. You felt the need to for some reason, that’s enough.” She says, stepping into their bathroom with the door open as she washes her face.

“Right…right…” Tobin replies as she finds her own pjs to throw on. She was so tired she felt like passing out there in her sports bra. “So. Christen…you don’t have a problem with…”

Christen steps into the door frame, toothbrush in mouth with a dark slender brow raised. “Withwhat?” She asked.

Tobin felt her cheeks flaming up again and she lets out a heavy sigh. “The fact that I’m into girls. And maybe guys. I mean. Some people don’t think it’s Christian or-”

Christen spit into the sink and walked out to Tobin who was kind of losing it. She shakes her head. Green eyes watching brown. Tobin is pacing around the beds.

“Why would I be upset at rooming with someone similar to myself. I really have no problem, your business is yours. We’re adults. I’m more annoyed at you for being a jackass than making out with other women.” Christen states while tying back her hair.

Tobin finds herself more confused at who the hell this woman was on the daily. She’s stunned into silence, brown eyes staring into green.

“Besides, I’m not Christian. But I do think you know your God better than a bunch of zealots using him in vain to dress up hatred.” Christen adds, sliding back into her bed. Tobin is feeling hot again. She has no idea what to say. So she doesn’t.

She speed runs through her nightly routine which was simplified down to a face wash and an old t shirt thrown on over boxers. “Night Christen.”

“Night Tobin.”

Chapter Text

USA VS North Korea

Match day. 2:15 kickoff.

“Are you going to pass or are you going to keep daydreaming?”

Tobin breaks out of her thoughts to see Christen standing in front of her, wide open next to a mini net as they warm up before the match. She flares on the defensive.

“Hey! We’re literally playing on football history right here, geez let me take a minute to breathe it in!” She argues, flicking the ball towards Christen halfheartedly. It arcs just enough for Christen to get a boot on it and slot it into the mini goal.

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, frustrated at the way Tobin wasn’t taking their training seriously. But whatever it wasn’t like she was going to sub in today anyway. No Christen would be going back to the locker room and changing into civilian clothes and sitting in the back behind the bench in the stands. At least Tobin would be subbing in today. She had to hand it to the midfielder there. She was seeing minutes. Training wasn’t make or break for her.

Which is precisely why the nonchalance is pissing her off.

Old Trafford is of course a magnificent stadium to behold. Many of the players are walking laps around the stadium between their warmups to take it all in. The crowd is already buzzing. They’re loud and Tobin thinks it might be the loudest one yet.

“Life keeps moving. Don’t leave your partner stranded.” Pia comments, walking across Tobin’s path. She takes the verbal redirection, going to Christen for another round of quick passes.

“Thought you’d never come back.” Christen drypanned. Tobin responds by kicking the ball straight towards Christen. Hard. The older woman will forever claim she was aiming for the goal. Maybe she was. Christen isn’t fast enough to dodge entirely out of the way. The ball bounces off her hip, sending her to the ground briefly.

“TOBIN!” Christen spits out, grimacing at the pain arcing through her. It wasn’t something horrible or awful. Just something that would turn into a splotchy purple bruise. Knocks the wind out of you though.

“Shoot. Sorry.” Tobin sheepishly said, walking over and picking up the ball as whistles blew for the end of warm ups. “Walk it off Press!”. Her cheeks are a bit red at seeing the outcome of her teeny tiny flash of anger. Tobin knew she really had to get that under control.

Christen gets up off her now scraped knees, pushing past Tobin and knocking her shoulder on the way out to the locker room. She’s pissed off. Fuming. It wasn’t so much that she’s hurt, the bruises will eventually fade but rather that Tobin was such an ass.

“Not cool.” Abby comments from behind them. She slides her water bottle back into the carrier, walking over to Tobin with a glare in her eyes. Tobin drops the ball into the bag by the bench.

“What? Me?” She asks incredulously, rubbing her shoulder with wide brown eyes. Abby shakes her head, pushing up her headband.

“You know I have the right to knock your shoulder again. What is going on with you and Press?” She asks, leading them into the locker room to change into their kits. Tobin shrugs her arm off her shoulder.

“Nothing,” She mumbles, finding her way to the locker that had 17 hanging up. Abby is next to her wearing 14 between Pinoe and Buehler who had both already dressed. Pinoe was busy trying to lead the dance party at the other side of the room. They had roughly 3 minutes to finish up.

“Nothing is not an answer. Tobs, I don’t wanna be an asshole about it but you clearly are, so what gives?” Abby asks while lacing up her cleats. She rolls on deodorant, closes her locker and raises a brow toward her younger teammate.

“Abby. stop it.” Tobin argues, closing the door with her phone and ID in it forcefully. “I kicked a ball when she wasn’t ready. My bad. Now can we get a move on? Don’t you have a game to play?”

Abby steps back, caught off guard by Tobin’s snippiness. “Yeah I’ll get to that.” She mutters, going to find her mascot to walk out with in the tunnel. Tobin immediately feels the sting of regret from that one but she doesn’t try to follow Abby to apologize. Some things just happen.

“She’s right, you are an asshole.” Christen’s voice cuts through the locker room as everyone clears out to either start or sit on the bench. Tobin shuts her eyes, taking a breath.

“2:15 to kick off. I repeat 2:15 to kick off.” The locker room intercom screams over their head.

“You know what Christen,” Tobin spins around to face the dark haired woman behind her. She steps closer. “Did you ever think that you’re the impossible one here?”

Christen barks out a laugh, eyes watering at the force of it. “Me? Impossible? That’s cute.” She watches Tobin’s eyes flicker with annoyance.

“Yes, you!” Tobin waves her arms, shaking her head. “God! Christen you are impossible. Impossible to read, impossible to talk to, impossible to apologize to. Impossible to breathe around.”

Christen’s brow rose. She steps closer to the angry woman, green eyes searching brown. The flush on Tobin’s neck. The way her hands were shaking. The bite of her lower lip. It all clicked.

“Breathe…you…but I didn’t think that I,” she mumbled, searching in her head for answers. “This whole time while I— I wanted,”

Tobin is centimeters from her face now. Christen can breathe in the scent of her deodorant and shampoo. Minty breath from the stash of gum she always had on her to concentrate on games. “I have been kicking myself for weeks now.” She admits quietly. “And I’m mad. Mad at these feelings, and mad that it’s you who makes me feel this way, and mad about the whole goddamn—”

Christen can’t take the rambling anymore. She can’t listen to Tobin’s wavering voice knowing she’s the reason there’s so much emotion behind it that her throat gets tight.

So she kisses her. In the locker room. Already 2 minutes late to sit in the friends and family stand, Tobin late to the bench.

It makes Tobin’s shoulders drop and her eyebrows raise. She’s smiling against the warm lips and gentle hands cupping and searching for more. Christen feels all of her pent up energy floating away as she presses herself in tighter. Lips opening wider, tongues poking for entrance-

“Hey! Loligaggers, get your ass out here you’re literally delaying an Olympics game!” Pinoe shouts into the locker room and the pair were never so grateful for the half wall that concealed them in their life. “You will have plenty of time to beat each other up later!”

Tobin pulls back first, pushing her hair back. “Uh…that’s my cue,” She says toothily, beaming up at the younger player. Christen swallowed anxiously, eyes down.

“Oh um yeah go before you get in trouble.”

-
Christen is beating herself up on the walk to her friends and family seat. It’s already frustrating enough being an alternate, but now she has Tobin to run through her mind.

“Hey! Chris, sit!” Kling waves her over to sit with her and Whitney. Christen obliges, settling into the seat. “You’ve already missed like three key plays, what took you so long?”

Christen looks at her watch, brow furrowing. Surely she wasn’t terribly late? At least five minutes after because of the amount of time it took to run up the stadium stairs. “Oh uh…just got lost looking at a bruise.” She lies but feels the real purple bruise snaking its way across her hip from warm ups.

“Oh right. Heath hit you again. What has gotten up her ass lately?” Whitney asks, taking a swig of water and leaning over as the team takes the final third. Christen feels a little bad hearing Whitney talk about Tobin like that, but she can’t argue with her. Tobin was being an asshole.

“Competitive environments can bring out the worst in people. It’ll pass, she meant no harm.” Christen lies again. Now she puts her fists in her jacket pockets, feeling like her nose will grow if she lies again to her teammates. She meant harm in one way or another because that bruise didn’t lie.

“Sure.” Whitney shrugs, sitting back as the USA loses another chance. “This is torture by the way.”

Kling sighs, slumping back in her seat. “No no see, they’re offside now if that ref doesn’t call it now— finally a flag. You’d think they could do their job at the Olympics…”

Christen has stopped watching the game analytically. She knows she should be. She knows it’s important if she ever wants the impossible feeling dream of being on that pitch to be true.

It’s just that she can’t stop thinking about Tobin’s soft lips on hers…they were really soft. Her minty breath. It tingled just in the right way. She could feel her body on her still. Lingering. The warmth, the softness. Her chest against her own.

That stupid bruise flares up and the thoughts immediately darken. Tobin who had kicked the ball so hard at her in annoyance she bruised. Tobin who was brash and standoffish. Who kissed her…

“Did you hear anything I said?” Whitney asks Christen as half time starts. Christen looks up, sheepishly.

“Oh man, I got lost watching the game. Sorry.” A third lie. Christen touched her nose out of compulsion, afraid somehow the fable became true overnight. That with a fairytale kiss—

“Oh yeah? What’s the score?” Kling questions, crossing her arms while standing in front of Christen. The darker woman sighed indignantly. She could lie for a fourth time or come clean and admit she hadn’t been paying attention. Both felt equally awful.

“Whoever can get Kling out of my face gets 2 points minimum for their team.” She bats the other player away, standing up with them all as halftime is announced. “What is even approved for our snack in this stadium?”

Whitney rolls her eyes, pushing long blonde hair from her face. “We’re supposed to meet them at the tunnel for cheese, nuts, and one fruit snack pack.”

All of them groaned. A salty stadium pretzel sounded delicious right about now to Christen. Kling led the complicated way down to the guts of the stadium, their badges letting them get access through the mounds of security.

“Geez by the time we get there we’ll have burned off the calories from the snack!” Whitney whines as Kling weaves them through the tunnel to the locker room where Dawn would be.

“Oh lighten up! Just the three I needed, snack time!” Dawn raised paper cups in their direction in a toast with their snacks proportionally sized out. Christen took hers with a smile at Dawn. She was really doing her best. The team were at their hearts college sophomores who were in the thrill of life, not worrying about eating and their figure.

“Cheers!” A hand bumped into Christen’s. Tobin.

The striker murmurs a cheers in response, taking a handful of cheese to avoid talking to the midfielder. She knows they will have to talk…eventually. But there was a whole second half of a game before that became a real concern. Tobin’s already turned her attention, seeing that Christen wouldn’t budge.

“Great work in the first half Cheney,”

“Thanks, Tobs. Are you coming in at the second half or 60?” Cheney asks between gulps from her water bottle. Pia is drawing out plans on a whiteboard for the second half, dragging players names around to create plays.

Tobin squints as she tries to remember the exact time that Pia planned. “I think it’s 55 actually. Depends on gameplay though. Think we’re swapping?”

Cheney shakes her head, eating a nut. “No. I mean I hope I stay in the whole time.”

Christen’s mildly annoyed hearing the team talk about their minutes. She knows it’s jealousy, and it’s unbecoming. But she can’t quite shake it. She glances at Pia’s plan. The only person paying attention seemed to be Carli. The usual.

A hand grabs Christen’s arm and starts tugging. “What the hell—” “just get over here!”

Kelley. Kelley is dragging her back towards the corner of the locker room where hers was. “Kelley. I repeat. What the hell.” She says with a sigh.

Kelley rolls her hazel eyes, shaking her head. “Hey hey! Quiet. We’re just chatting. Just chatting.” She’s eyeing the rest of the locker room to make sure they’d leave them alone. Everyone seemed contained to their own devices. They only had 5 minutes left, and the last 2 would be warm ups.

“Kelley. I love you. But you did not just drag me over here for nothing!” Christen whispered to her friend, sitting on the bench in front of the open locker while Kelley pushed back enough of her stuff to sit inside the lower portion.

“A little birdy. Who may have had the bleach go to her brain. Asked me about your dating life because she saw something…about 45 minutes ago,” Kelley trails off and gestures her head in the general direction of one brunette midfielder with a very messy ponytail.

Bleach.

Pinoe. She fucking saw.

Christen knows her cheeks are turning red. She knows and she knows Kelley can see and it’s immediately incriminating evidence. Pinoe saw and she told Kelley!

“Okay. Look. Here’s what’s going to happen,” Christen shoots up from the bench with a fervor. “You will tell your bleach blonde birdie. To keep it to herself. And you will forget she even chirped that. Kel. I’m serious. We’ll talk about this later but not. There’s a game happening, come on.”

Kelley raises her hands in innocence. “Hey! I’m a messenger. I think it’s kinda rad two of my best friends are fu—”

“We are doing no such thing.” Christen grimaces, trying to throw Kelley off the scent. She knows it’s no use.

“Mmm right. I’ll keep that in mind.” Kelley smirks, tapping Christen on the shoulder as Pia calls for them to head back to the pitch. “Promise you the birdie will be silenced.”

Christen crosses her arms, “it better be!” She says back with a scowl. With the locker room starting to clear, Christen heads back up to the audience.

-
“Good luck lover girl,” Pinoe teases as she slaps Tobin’s hands during their substitute switch. Tobin’s mind goes blank. She goes through the motions of her substitution. Jumping the line for good luck, praying to God, and taking a deep breath. She can taste sweat on her tongue. Smell mint from her gum. And feel the pitch beneath her cleats.

Lover girl. Pinoe.

Whistle blows for play to resume and Tobin is piecing together what Pinoe said with shock spreading across her face.

She knew! She knew and she wanted Tobin to know she knew.

Tobin’s sprinting up the field. She can see Abby feeding Alex a ball, and she can tell that Alex is just a little to far out to—

Alex passes to Tobin who dribbles her way up and around a defender. She’s wide open. Her brain goes back to Christen…Christen who was the last person she kicked a ball towards. She overthinks it, dribbles a bit too long. Chips the goal post, flying over.

She can’t help but react to it, knowing it wasn’t her best work.

“Next time Tobin. Don’t think, just shoot. Just shoot that ball. You know what you’re doing.” Abby guides her in passing with a friendly shoulder shake. Tobin nods, still bristling. She also saw from the corner of her eye Pia shaking her head in frustration.

“No no no! We got to make those!”

But play continues. Despite being up 1-0, the US are playing with frustration and they know it. Every move just isn’t enough to beat through North Korea’s strong defense. They wanted at least two more points to stand strong.

Final whistle blows and Tobin sighs in relief at the end of the game, and annoyance at her next quest. Pinoe. And Christen.

She wiggles into the end huddle, Becky pulling her in with a quick elbow drag. Pia claps.

“It was. Not best game no. But I am proud of you. We scored early, and we kept the score after half. Defense was strong. I want better finishing. Hydrate. 15 sprints. Locker room then dinner, and I may bring out the guitar.” The coach grins with an eyebrow raise, seeing the team light up at the prospect. Pia and her guitar made dinners fun.

-
Post sprints Tobin tugged on Pinoe’s shorts, gesturing the spunky player to the side while everyone filed in to start showers.

“Heath what the hell—-” Pinoe yelped. Tobin rolled her eyes, aware of the sweat dripping down her brow.

“What the hell is right.” She whispered. “You know. And you know I know that you know.”

Pinoe rolled her eyes at the juvenile response. “And? Got any more riddles three before I can shower?” She pushes back at Tobin slightly.

Tobin pressed her lips together in frustration. She absolutely did not want to do this so close to the rest of the team.

“And?! I want you to shut up about it. What you saw was none of your business, and it didn’t mean,” She fumbles on her words and struggles to categorize what did happen. She had kissed Christen. Why? Because she can’t get the striker out of her damn head.

“Yeah yeah it didn’t mean anything. Where have I heard that a million times? Look Tobs, I’m not going around outing people, relationships, whatever it is. I was teasing you.” Pinoe fiddles with the shirt in her hand, wringing it out with some clear apprehensions. “Although Kelley might know—”

Tobin throws her head back in frustration. “What the hell Pinoe you just said you don’t-”

“Hey! Look I got curious and asked her about her Stanford buddy’s dating arrangements and she put the pieces together— that is not my fault.” Pinoe says, tapping her foot impatiently. “Nothing else will come down from my end.” Her voice lowers as players start trailing out of the locker room to the bus. Abby glanced over at the pair, eyes narrowing.

“Whatever you two are up to cut it out, go shower. I am not sitting next to you while you’re like that Meg, you reek.”

Pinoe rolls her eyes dramatically. “Fine mom, I’m going,” She skirted towards the edge of the start of the lockers and mimicked a zipped mouth to Tobin. The midfielder waves her off, going in to grab her shower bag from the locker. All of this was frankly ridiculous to her. Not only was Pinoe a problem but now Kelley?

She lathers her hair up and tries not to get caught in the dangerous thought cycle of it all.

Chapter Text

Christen sits down in their meeting room with her plate of dinner, a catered meal from a nice restaurant, and listens to the dull hum of her teammates. Most players were exhausted from playing earlier in the day, showing up in loungewear or pjs and in Kelley’s case sporting a great big pillow pet onesie situation.

“Hey Christen,” Lauren Cheney slid her plate across from Christen. Christen looked up, giving her a small smile. She liked Cheney probably the most of all the players on the team. The older woman fiddled with her ponytail holder, something on her mind. Christen kept eating, knowing better than to investigate.

“Christen…I—okay look. I don’t want to be prying,” Cheney starts, looking up from her plate with a ‘sorry’ face. Christen drops her fork, taking a breath. Could she have one night of people not in her business? “This is totally not like any of my business but Tobin won’t tell me so what’s your deal with her?”

Green eyes meet blue and Christen can feel her patience growing thin. She doesn’t know what to say. Her mind starts spinning. Kelley had said she didn’t tell anyone else. And Christen knew one thing about messy, loud and riled up Kelley—that she is loyal to a fault.

“What is there to tell?” Christen mumbles, shaking her head. She defects easily enough. Lauren doesn’t take that for an answer. She took a sip of water, brow raising before interrogation began.

“Look. I know you think I’m here on Tobin’s behalf or something. But I’m not. I’m here because I like you, and what I don’t like is seeing two teammates act the way you two have.” The older midfielder explained gently. She looked back at the rest of the tables. Tobin sat side by side with Pinoe, far enough away Lauren didn’t have to worry about her hearing.

Christen shook her head, moving around the broccoli on her plate. “I don’t know what you want to hear, Cheney. Tobin is…frustrating. She kicked the ball at me today. She’s distracted and I suffer the consequences,” She pulls her sleeve up to show the purple bruising. “Sharing a room is fine. We don’t…talk much. Just. The usual stuff.”

Lauren takes a breath. She shakes her head. “Yeah that is kind of well, dumb on her end. I can’t condone that.” She swallows a bite, feeling the deepening silence between them. “Just, hear her out. She doesn’t—-I trust her with my life. She’s the most loyal person. Her communication…well I mean it could be better. I seriously want to fight her on the field when she doesn’t listen to me. But just give her a chance.”

Christen finishes her plate, napkin set over the top. She gives Lauren a once over, and a promise that “I’ll try,” as she goes to set the dish on the bussing tray.

-
“Kelley I’m going to—“ Tobin’s hand swings out pulling the defender’s sweatshirt as soon as she sees her heading upstairs from dinner. Kelley snaps around at the tug, annoyed.

“What the hell! Come on,” She exclaimed, yanking her top back from Tobin’s strong hand. The midfielder shook her head, frustrated.

“Kel, get over here.” Tobin orders, gesturing to a divot between the hallway doors. The younger player rolls her eyes dramatically, sliding over to the spot.

“What on god’s green earth is the matter with you?” Kelley is mad. She’s got a fist clenched and a hazel eye narrowed, frustrated at Tobin already.

“The matter with me? The matter with me,” Tobin laughs, “is that I know you know. And I need you to stop knowing.” She’s gruff and firm and her stomach is doing flips right now but Tobin doesn’t back track. She needs Kelley to know.

The two stare at each other for a beat. Kelley isn’t folding that easily. She shakes her head. “Tobs…you gotta clue me in here.”

Tobin throws her arms up in frustration. “Whatever fine tell the whole team, I don’t care—-” “whoa whoa!”

Kelley puts her hands on Tobin’s shoulders, shaking gently. “You gotta calm down. I mean it. It’s been a long day. Just spit it out Tobin. My head is not all here after a game.”

Tobin turns pink, sheepishly hanging her head. She and Kelley had a long history of youth camp call ups that overlapped once they got more competitive and larger across the states. This is Kelley’s first Olympics, her third uswnt event overall. She knew Kelley, she knew her very well which is why this whole ask is a little frustrating.

“Pinoe let it slip that you put pieces together about…Christen,” Tobin lowered her voice, seeing players mill past them on their way to the elevators. “I need you to zip it. I don’t want—Christen doesn’t…we’re not a thing. It just happened and we’d like it to not have happened.”

Kelley’s eyes are nearly bulging out of her head. She knew of course, but Tobin’s reaction is telling her differently. She takes a beat. This would have to be measured in approach. She doesn’t want to spook Tobin.

“Oooookay. Tobin. Listen to me. Pinoe asked about Chris’s dating life and so I told her that she hasn’t had a girlfriend in a while. Her last one left Sweden and well anyways! I asked Pinoe why and she was really not budging,” Kelley is trying to reassure her friend, looking into deep pondering brown eyes and squeezing her shoulders one last time. “She said she saw something involving Chris and it was recently. And so look I’m not, I’m not an idiot Tobs. I see the way you look at her—-” “I do not-”

“Shut up! Yes you do. And maybe you don’t know yet but you will. And listen, Christen is someone I will go to war for. I will fight for. Just as much as I love you, you idiot. So don’t hurt her. Because I love you enough to fight you and I don’t want to ruin that pretty face. Maybe black up your stupid brown eyes—” “oh come on Kelley!”

Kelley lets go of her shoulders and gives her a look with a brow raised. “I’m not done yet. I didn’t see and I don’t know and I’m not spreading rumors of what happened. I won’t do that to you two. Look. It’s late. I’m tired. We have another game in three days, I’m going to bed. Carli will ream me out if I don't follow curfew.”

Tobin pinches her nose. She nods at Kelley, “Go. And thank you, Kel. I love you dude.” “Night night toby!” Kelley waved as she headed to the elevators.

Tobin sat on the windowsill, watching Kelley as she left. She had to admit the freckle faced woman was right about one thing. Maybe she deserved a black eye.

-

There’s a series of knocks on Christen’s door. She glances up from her novel. “It’s open.”

It creaks open, hesitantly revealing the mousy haired absent roommate Christen had been half heartedly expecting to crash in another room for the night. “It's past curfew, I figured you’d be staying somewhere else honestly.”

Tobin rubs her eyes, shrugging. She slides off her shoes, pausing to rub her very tired feet. “I just was out…thinking.”

Christen closed her book, swinging her leg over to sit on the edge of her bed while Tobin rummaged for her pjs. “Thinking?” She asked incredulously. “Seriously, you were thinking?”

Tobin turned to face her with a sloppy handful of boxers and faded t-shirts. She narrowed her eyes. “Are you offended by the idea? Of me thinking?”

Christen rolled her eyes, “Okay no, I’m not. I just think your choices have said otherwise—”

“It was rhetorical Christen.” Tobin deadpans from behind the bathroom door. Christen bristles at the comeback, all previous good will gone. Tobin had nerve coming back late, being snippy, and pondering all while she sat anxious, and frustrated over their past behaviors. She turns her light off, rolling over to her side.

Tobin scrubbed at her face a little harsher than usual. Suds dripped down her chin, leaving wet marks on her faded t-shirt. Her brain was elsewhere as her body recited the motions she’s been doing for just over two decades now.

Obviously she hadn’t wanted to tell Christen that she was consulting with Kelley, better she didn’t know someone knew. Especially that someone being Kelley.

Tobin wipes her face off with a clean hand towel, taking a deep breath. The events of the day run through her mind one last time. She’s mad at herself. She’s mad at Christen. They should not have done that. She’s mad at how her body responds to Christen— mad at how her body has responded to women in general if she had to be honest. At least with men she could control things.

Tobin opened the bathroom door, greeted by the darkness of the room. She was caught off guard but Christen decided to throw in the towel. Quietly she walked to her bed, climbing under the top sheet and pushing the quilt down.

“Goodnight.” Tobin said out loud. She’s not sure if Christen hears her. She doesn’t want the other woman to reply, if she had to be honest. Tobin wanted to just say it.

She closed her eyes, settling into the warm embrace of the hotel bed. What the hell had the last 24 hours been?

“Goodnight Tobin.”
-

“Next we play…” Pia paused for a drum roll to break out among her players. Arod and Cheney lead the way with their table joining in on the fun. “New zealand. In New Castle. But we aren’t moving, no no. This is our new home base for now. We will move, if we keep going forward into the gold medal match. Two days. You have tomorrow off and then we start match day training. Today is drill training. Yes, yes sprints! Starts at 10am.” She claps to finish her announcement, letting the team go back to eating breakfast.

“I can’t do sprints,” Arod groaned, poking at the eggs on her plate. “My legs are still killing me from yesterday!”

Tobin rubs her neck, shrugging. “Dawn has Advil if you need it,” she suggests knowing that Amy often declined pain meds until the last minute. The blonde pouts, shoveling in her food. Tobin couldn’t blame her though, the medication ritual song and dance during tournaments was annoying. Last time she needed a pain killer a fifa trainer had to watch her take it before the second half of a game.

“Oh Advil? You grabbing some T?” Pinoe waltzes to their table with her tray, having come in late just a bit before Pia finished. Tobin shakes her head, taking a sip of her crappy hotel coffee.

“Arod doesn’t want to get some, and I keep telling her you gotta get it now before you’re ten passes deep and begging for it while fifa trainers hold it hostage.” She explained. Pinoe tsked, knowing all too well.

“I vote for getting it now.” She says to Amy as she sits. The blonde groans at her teammate, pouting into her eggs remnants again. Tobin stands up, dumping her tray.

“I’m going to the weight room,” She announces as her eyes catch Christen walking in. They still hadn’t talked even though they both woke up at the same time this morning. Tobin didn’t know what to say and Christen was icing her out.

-

The weight room had been transformed for them specifically with more sets of small weights, an extra treadmill and bike. Tobin had her headphones on, choosing to spin on the bike for the workout Pia had all but ordered of them. Drills started at 10, which they’d do out on a practice field so she had at least another half an hour to get her blood pumping.

That also meant a half an hour to exist in her own brain without anyone chiming in. Her stupid, stupid brain. Tobin pushed down hard on the pedals, with more force than necessary as she grinded her jaw while thinking about the past two weeks. The Olympics were meant to be hard, sure. 2008 taught her that.

2008 was full of learning moments, trying not to fall under anyone’s feet, and surviving. But now it’s 2012 and she’s sick to her stomach because her roommate is soft and smells like sea salt—

“Enough!” She shouts to no one, her voice reverberating off the empty walls. She had a game to focus on. She had goals to score, and risks to take—

thwack.

Tobin pushed her foot down too far. The secure safety foot strap jammed into the arch of her sneaker, catching her like a flip flop hitting a rock. She tumbles into the handlebars, the wind knocked out of her.

“You know you can’t avoid me forever Tobin,” Christen pushed open the double doors of the gym room, speaking before really getting her eyes on Tobin.

The brunette groans, pushing herself up and over to fall on the floor. She vaguely hears Christen, too focused on trying to regain her breath.

“You’re that scared of me? So spooked you fell off your bike?” Each of Christen’s steps felt like a lifetime as she approached Tobin on the ground. Hanging over her like a passing cloud, one with an eyebrow raised in contempt.

“Fuck…off.” Tobin grunts out. Her left hand swings behind her to push her torso up and off the ground. Her bicep strains with the movement. Christen crouches lower, taking in the bruises setting along Tobin’s leg. Green and blue blooming over sun tanned skin. And briefly, just briefly Christen forgets why she’s even there. Tobin’s nostrils flare. She opens her mouth to speak but thinks better of it, heaving as air rapidly returns to her chest.

“Now, if I did that I can’t watch your face when I call Kelley in to see—-” “Shut. Up.” Tobin’s right hand clamps over Christen’s lips. Brown eyes meet green. Tobin feels the warmth of Christen’s lips under her palm and pulls back ever so slightly.

“Is this the part where I say make me and you—” “Chris. Shut up.”

Tobin pulls herself up to her feet, scuffing at the floor next to the machine she fell off of with annoyance. “Damn machine is broken.” She grumbles. She wants to kick it. She wants to physically break it. She’s angry and embarrassed, and mad that Christen is here and makes her heart ache.

Christen had pulled herself up from crouching and stood with her arms crossed, letting the uncomfortable silence build in the workout room. They had drills in fifteen minutes.

“I’m not avoiding you.” Tobin finally relents to the tension. She had picked up her water and bag of cleats, shaking her head at Christen’s growth.

“You left the cafeteria as soon as I arrived. I’m not stupid Tobin. I know your moves.” She argues.

“Moves?” Tobin laughs incredulously. She throws her arms up, wincing. “I don’t have any moves. In case you didn't notice. I’m terrible with moves. I wanted to work out. I worked out. And now I’m—jesus, what do you want me to say Chris?”

Christen stepped forward, using all of her height to get into Tobin’s space. “We..we kissed and you are still acting like—-”

Knocking on the workout room glass door interrupted them. Christen sharply turned around, cheeks going scarlet. Kelley.

Tobin groans, pulling at her bag's drawstrings tighter. Kelley and her habit of coming in at the worst time.

“Hey guys, remember those drill sessions? Well they are happening after all—”

“We know Kelley.” Tobin and Christen said in unison, the older player pushing past her and out the door.

“What did I walk into?” Kelley asks Christen as the door swings shut behind Tobin’s huffy exit. The striker closed her eyes, letting out a sigh.

“You and your chance of interrupting me is…too high.” Christen picks up her backpack, heading towards the door.

“Hey.” Kelley argued, keeping up with her pace. “I’m sorry I was on roundup duty for Wambach.”

They start their way to the bus for the pick up and drop off at the training grounds they’re borrowing for the week. Tobin is already in line for the bus with Alex.

“It’s nothing. We were just. Talking. You interrupted, that is all.” Christen lamely explained as they got closer to the line. Kelley squinted, putting two and two together in her head.

“Oh! Oh my god you haven’t talked about the—the…kiss,” Kelley starts then quiets in Christen’s ear. Christen grows red.

“Shhhh! My god Kelley someone could hear. And it’s none of your business—-”

“Stanford best buds made it my business. I’ve known Tobin since she had braces. It’s my business Press. Get over it.” Kelley snapped back, crossing her arms as the line shuffled forward. Christen groans.

Meanwhile Tobin is dealing with her own set of 20 questions in the bus line.

“Tobs, we gotta talk about the other night. Like I’m just confused since we lived together for summers and you’ve known me since forever. Like how did girls not come up?”

Alex is chittering away about Tobin not telling her she was gay. Of course she feels jilted over it all. Typical straight girl bs. Tobin leans against the side of the bus, shrugging.

“I don’t know Al. It’s not like hey howdy nice to meet you, I have sexual relations with women?”

Pinoe chuckles at Tobin’s deflecting, elbowing her playfully. “Oh come on, that’s totally what we should do. Just going around, asking for hot eats you know?” She teases. Tobin smacks her shoulder, getting red at the lewdness of her comments.

“Shut up Pinoe.”
“Gladly!” Pinoe jaunts ahead on the bus as the pair shuffle forward. Alex stifled a laugh, smiling at her friends. She places her hand on Tobin’s shoulder.

“I didn’t mean it like that! Oh, Tobs,” the midfielder stiffened. A few years ago the touch would have felt electric, but now it mostly stung. “You know I love you. I’ll be your wing woman, your right hand man. “

Tobin tries to smile at the support, she knows Alex is being genuine but her brain is still reeling from the past 24 hours. Together they walk up into the bus, sliding into fabric covered seats. Alex snags the window seat, immediately putting her headphones in. Tobin simply presses her forehead against the back of the seat in front of her and looks down.

It’s a short drive but feels like hours. Tobin is convinced each street light is red to specifically punish her. Christen sat in the row across from her but with a Kelley sized buffer between them.

Each time her sad brown eyes cross over there Kelley gives her a look that calls her pathetic.

Practice is cold and dreary but not wet which is the most they’re asking for. Tobin feels like she’s playing through the motions with each drill. They’re mindless at this point in her career. She can dribble through poles in her sleep. She can win most rondos with a cheeky tap.

“Faster Toby, faster passes,” Pia barks from center field as the players practice a passing drill in a line back and forth. It’s very simple but Tobin isn’t keeping up with the rapid increase in pacing. Her partner, HAO, is getting visibly frustrated.

“You have gotta be quicker,” Heather echoes Pia, speaking as a veteran player. She’s bouncing off her knee now, anything to throw Tobin off her game even more. The younger woman had to be disciplined and she knew that.

Tobin kicks her right foot out to catch Heather’s ball right as a wave of pain travels up her stomach. She misses, the ball goes rolling past.

“Tobin?” Heather steps into the line, watching her friend wince in pain. “You good? Need a water?”

Tobin shuts her eyes, her jaws clenched shut.

“I don’t…I don’t feel good.” She mumbles, swallowing. Heather puts an arm around her shoulder, nudging her away from the rest of the passing line. Last thing she needed was a ball to hit her in the head while resting already.

“You feel a little clammy tobinho, I’m going to get you some water. Sit tight.”

Heather jogs to the ice box, pulling out a cold water bottle and some fruit snacks. She jaunts back, thrusting the bottle into Tobin’s sweaty palm. The brunette chugs it, swaying on her right hand holding herself up.

“Better?” Heather asks tentatively. “I can flag the trainer, she’s talking to Dawn but I’ll yell.”

Tobin manages a scoff at her friend’s antics. “I feel like I’m gonna hurl.” She cracks an anxious smile, swallowing again. Heather brushes some loose strands back from Tobin’s forehead.

“You don’t feel hot, just wet.” Somehow the veteran player has turned into a doting mother figure in five minutes flat when faced with a younger player ready to vomit at a moment’s notice. “Please don’t vomit on the pitch. I’m grabbing the trainer. Scooch.” Heather nudged Tobin closer to the boundary line before getting up to grab a trainer.

The passing line had finished, Pia giving a water break before sprints. Alex wandered over to Tobin, gasping at the sight. She had been next to her in the line and saw her leave from the corner of her eye.

“Tobin?!” The midfielder waves her off, closing her eyes again. “Al, I’m f-fine. HAO is getting the trainers.”

Alex puts her hands on her hips. “That’s not fine and you know it!” She crouches down next to Tobin, frowning. “You look like shit.”

“Gee thanks Al.” Tobin spits off to the side, her mouth somehow dry and full of spit from needing to vomit. She’s fighting it with every part of her body.

“What?! Come on. You look bad. I’m on your side here.” Alex assures her. Tobin squints, opening her eyes as she hears more commotion as Heather finally gets the trainer to head their way.

The rest of the players were getting water by the bench. Tobin’s eyes track them one by one, until she uncomfortably meets eyes with Christen.

“Alright Tobin what’s going on. Heather said you might be nauseous?” The trainer asked, crouching down with Dawn at her side.

“What did you eat this morning Tobin?” Dawn asks, frantically opening up a notepad in case she needs to rip the chefs a new one. Alex moves out of the way, squeezing Tobin’s shoulder as she leaves to continue training.

Tobin licks her lips, feeling the dizziness set in. She grimaces, her upper stomach hurting as she breathes. “I had coffee. A cereal bowl. With yogurt. And uh some eggs off Arod’s plate.” Tobin takes a deep breath, swallowing again. “I don’t think this is breakfast guys.”

The trainer pulls back with a forehead thermometer, nodding. “I’m ruling out a flu because you don’t have a fever so far. Have you pulled anything? Did you do any work out before this session?”

Tobin grimaces, nervously lifting up her training jersey to reveal her yellow and green bruised stomach. “I was on the bike and fell over the front. My foot got caught in the safety strap.” She sheepishly explains to the chorus of horrified gasps. HAO rolls her eyes, tsking at the younger player. “Toby, you should have led with that!”

Tobin’s face flushes a deeper shade of red.

“That is not a pretty sight. Okay.” The trainer, Steph, took a breath, lowering the jersey. She’s seen almost everything at this point in her career from broken bones to vomit and wounds bleeding out, and she’s still uneasy at that bruising. “Go back to your room and use a cold compress. If you feel the need to throw up, do it. But tell us immediately if there’s any blood or if your ribs hurt. This should calm down in a day, fade out without major injury. I’m not telling Pia to take you off the roster unless there’s blood or the queasiness doesn’t subside by match day.”

HAO lets out a breath through her teeth, reaching down to help Tobin to her feet. “Seriously what the hell dude.” She comments. Tobin rests her head on the veteran player’s shoulder, mumbling, “I didn’t think it was that bad,”

They start to explain her situation to Pia but Tobin’s mind was too focused on making sure she didn’t yak all over the field to hear anything.

“Does she need someone to watch her? Like head injuries do?” Pia asked, going through her list. “Toby is usually top three in sprints anyway. I’m good to let her go.”

Dawn spoke up next, stepping in with her notepad. “If I may. I think she needs someone with her. I don’t want her hydration levels to drop severely before well if she’s still on your starter list Pia. Accountability. Besides, the poor thing is horribly dizzy I can tell.”

They all glance over at the midfielder who swayed slightly while locking her knees to stay firm. Tobin looks down away from all the peering eyes, feeling inept and useless. HAO rubs her back, still sticking with her.

“Okay. Okay. Press!” Pia calls for Christen. Tobin’s eyes widened at the call. The last thing she needed was Christen to make her heart rate go up while she’s about to vomit everywhere. She didn’t need to pop a blood vessel and throw up an organ. HAO feels her stiffening and raises a brow…and then it clicks for her.

“Yes coach.” Christen jogs over, glancing at Tobin briefly before turning her attention to their coach. Pia smiles, checking off something on her clipboard.

“You are rooming with Heath, yes?” She watches the darker skinned woman nod slightly. “As you see. She’s feeling ill, not in a bad way but needs to be watched. I trust you to do your training but for now. Please be there for her.”

Christen’s brow raised at the assignment and she takes a step back. “Coach, what are we talking about here? If I may,”

Heather interjects, trying to save Christen from the insubordination dripping off her tongue. “Pia, I really wouldn’t mind being one of the people who watch Tobin. I mean, we all wouldn’t mind in the coming days on a shift watch. She can still watch training and video, it’s not a bother and this way Christen can keep training in case she needs to be pulled in.”

Pia shuts that down quickly, a hand running through her cropped graying hair. “No no. HAO. You are a starter. In fact, please go join the rest. Christie should be starting the sprints.” HAO knew better than to argue with an assignment from Pia, squeezing Tobin’s shoulder one last time before jogging off.

“Now, you two,” Pia turns back to the pair of roommates with a serious expression across her face. “Press, you are to monitor Heath as her roommate. She hurt her stomach and Steph is worried about blood in her throw up.”

Christen’s brow furrows, and she shakes her head. This is so not what she signed up for. Dawn steps forward, her hand out to get everyone’s attention. “Sorry Pia, I’m going to step in here. Christen, I know this sounds gross and like a lot. But I don’t have staff to assign to her. Fifa limited us, and it’s much easier to have you—who knows each other's personality and reactions -- than a staff member like me babysitting.”

The brit holds out her clipboard, the group squinting at her scribbles. “Steph is concerned with organ damage from the bruising but I also want to make sure hydration levels are good. She’s dizzy and swaying—”

“Sorry, can we stop talking around me?” Tobin speaks up, her voice shaking slightly. “Fine. I’ll be supervised. I will make sure it gets back to staff if I’m yakking blood. I feel fine. Just weak, and like HAO said I can still watch training. I’m not an invalid.”

Pia smiles at the outburst. She loved seeing passion from her players even at the most inappropriate of moments because she knew from this that Tobin cared enough to speak up.

“Tomorrow you have off. Then we do training the next day. Today is just drills. No penalties, no corner kicks. I want you resting.” She reiterates. Christen rolls her eyes.

“Got it coach. Come on Tobin, let’s go back to the hotel.” She relents, turning to the medical staff who traveled in separate vehicles than the team bus. Tobin raises a brow at Christen’s sudden drop of questioning and acceptance of a role she clearly did not want.

She follows Christen, and once out of ear shot of both parties asks, “What made you change your mind?”

The dark haired woman crosses her arms, not looking back at Tobin as she speaks. “I want to eventually be named to the full team. I’m not going to fight Pia even if I think this is utterly ridiculous and a waste of my time,”

“Well at least you’re honest,” Tobin retorts, feeling the sting from Christen’s biting complaint about the entire situation. Or maybe it was her stomach pinching at the very spot blooming in colors she’s never seen bruises turn before.

“You want honesty?” Christen stops, letting Tobin stumble to stop as quickly in her steps. “I could—no I should be, if they cared so much about you to do all this, l should be replacing you on the roster. But they don’t and they don’t care about me either.”

“Oh like you’d play midfield that easily.” Tobin scoffed, pushing past her. Christen takes offense, speeding up to walk alongside the shorter woman.

“Excuse me. I can play midfield. I’d be an attacking mid. Besides, they can move people around. And you know I could! You are just—”

“Shut up.”

Tobin climbs into the back of the van, wincing as she buckles herself in. Christen follows suit and they let an uncomfortable silence fall between each other on the ride.

-

Tobin and Christen make minimal conversation the rest of the day. Tobin wallows in bed with an ice pack on her stomach 30 minutes off and on and the tv running old direct to tv movies. Christen reads her pile of books, glancing over occasionally to make sure Tobin’s not passed out or burning herself with ice.

She can’t help but keep an eye on the blossoming splotchy bruise across Tobin’s pale skin. It’s ugly in a beautiful kind of way. Like something she’d see in a museum. Her abs are flexed to where the curve of muscle shows. It reaches far enough to where Christen can see a divot of a hip and the waistband of Tobin’s boxers and suddenly it’s impossible to go back to her book. How on earth did someone get hip bones that sharp and rounded abs? It wasn’t fair.

Tobin coughs, the muscles constricting and relaxing under the yellow, blue and purple. Her nose scrunches at a sour taste in her mouth and she washes it down with blue Gatorade.

Christen bookmarks her page and sets her book down with a sigh. It’s 2pm and they've not gotten lunch yet. She looks over to Tobin,

“Do you want lunch? Are you still queasy?”

Tobin looks up and blinks at the sudden olive branch between the stale silence of the room. She rubs the back of her neck, sitting up higher.

“I could eat. My stomach is…I can’t tell what’s pain and what’s hunger if I had to be honest.” Tobin laughed at herself, rolling her eyes at the stupid predicament she’s in. Christen nods, picking up her key card.

“Tell you what. Can I go bring us up some food? And I’ll ask Steph if you can have Advil.” She offered so that Tobin didn’t have to worry about getting up, the elevator, or teammates being nosy.

“Oh. Thanks um yeah that would be great. Do you know the menu?” Tobin swings her legs out, standing up (albeit wobbly) and slowly walking to where her wallet sat on their tv stand. “Here.” She hands Christen her keycard for the food swipe.

Christen’s hand brushes Tobin’s as she takes the card, feeling warmth billowing off her.

“Lunch today…the signs were black bean tortilla soup, chicken breast with side salad, and maybe some grain bowl? I can text when I get there.” She offered. Tobin smiles— then grimaces at her stomach.

Christen feels a prick of embarrassment, cheeks heating up as she realizes how bad of a shape her teammate is in. And she’s been an asshole. Repeatedly.

“Can you ask if they’ll add chicken to the tortilla soup? I should get my proteins in. I appreciate it Chris.” Tobin says while hobbling back to her bed. She awkwardly sits, holding herself steady before swinging her legs up to the mattress.

Chris. Christen noticed the nickname. She wouldn’t comment on it to Tobin’s face but she heard it. She’d been called a lot of things over the years. Pressy usually stuck for teammates…Chris felt different…intimate even. More intimate than their kiss she had to say.

“Chicken tortilla soup, coming up.”

Chapter Text

“So you two still haven’t talked about it?!”

“No Kells.” Tobin sighs, throwing her head back on the pillow. “Been a bit preoccupied.”

Kelley smacks her kneecap, earning herself an ice pack thwack. “Hey!”

“Tobin, you literally sleep next to her every night—-you know what I mean.” Kelley doesn’t give in to Tobin’s glare. She sits up and sighs. “Why are you afraid to talk about it? What made you do it? You wouldn’t be the first teammates to make out god knows—”

“I shared a wall with Pinoe and Abby last camp, trust me I know.” Tobin states pointedly. She rubs the back of her neck, wishing she could get up and move around. “And it wasn’t making out! It was…a kiss. With a bit of tongue, maybe. But—-”

“Oooh feisty,” Kelley laughs, hazel eyes twinkling in the low hotel light. She playfully pouts at her friend. “You enjoyed it. And I think you know you did Tobs, you—”

“Oh do we have company?” Christen asks, entering the hotel room with a tray with two soup bowls. “Kelley stop harassing the poor woman;”

The pint sized brunette crossed her arms. “I rebuke that statement. I don’t harass. I…had reason to make Toby laugh…yeah yeah.”

“She’s harassing me, get her out and I’ll let you pick the next movie.” Tobin whines while grabbing the tray from Christen’s hands. She sits up, balancing it on her bedside table. She hated eating in bed, but knew there were no other options.

“Kells.” Christen chastises, shooing her away from Tobin’s bedside. “Go on. We’ll see you at dinner or breakfast tomorrow, I’m sure.”

Kelley stands up, taking the hint that the two actually did want her out. She pauses in the doorway, taking a look at her two friends. “Night friends and your secrets!”

Both women groan in response while the door swings shut.

-
Tobin’s already eating, spoon delicately scooping up broth and chicken. It’s nourishing, it feels like she actually has energy again. Her head is still out of sorts, not quite pounding but the pain in her abdomen is taking priority.

“Oh! I got these from the PT. Two with dinner and then two with breakfast.” Christen remembers, pulling a travel pack of Advil from her pocket. She sets it on Tobin’s bedside table.

The midfielder swallows, reaching for the packet. “Thanks Chris.” She mumbles, ripping it open. Christen nods, eyes darting to tv and seeing the movie they’d been watching roll into local news.

“What did Kelley mean? By secrets?” She asks, green eyes glued to the screen. She can’t look at Tobin. Christen knows, obviously, what she meant but she needs to hear it from Tobin’s mouth.

Tobin chugs her water. She slowly puts the tray on her bedside table again. She looks at Christen curiously.

“Chris…you know what she meant.”

Christen bristles at the response. She bites her lower lip. Eyes still watching an anchor talk monotonously.

“Why’d you start calling me Chris?” The forward asks quietly. It’s small, unsure. Christen had noticed the change in the past few days. Something about it made her insides fuzzy, even though her friends like Kelley had called her that for ages. You only ever gave out nicknames if you were fond enough, her father had told her. Otherwise they’d get full names every day.

Tobin runs her hand through her hair, rubbing the back of her neck. “Oh. Uh. I can stop if you want.” She offers. Christen turns pink, eyes lowering to the bedspread. She can see threads poking through the quilt.

“…I like it…but why on earth—”

Tobin flings her sheets back and moves to crawl on top of Christen’s bed. She sits on the edge, centimeters apart from Christen.

“We kissed Chris.” Tobin states like she’s reading off facts in a court of law. Christen makes a surprised cough, her stomach swooping low.

“We…we did. And it meant nothing. Or well we…”

Green met brown. Tobin is taken aback. She wasn’t expecting Christen to be the one denying what happened. It’s got her hot under the collar of her tee. She doesn’t know where to go next.

“Nothing?” Tobin asks. Her tongue wets her chapped bottom lip. Christen glances away.

“Yes. Nothing, I thought that’s all it was. Madly impossible to you.” She breathes out, trying not to notice the smell of Tobin’s skin so close to her. Earthy and the sweetest hint of a fruit. The spice on her lips from the soup lingered.

“Are you kidding? No..no I…” Tobin is frustrated and throws back a laugh. “God, it’s happening again. You, getting under my skin, and I just want to choke...”

Christen frowns. Her eyebrows knit together in offense. She hovers over what to say like it’s a video game prompt. She has a few options, but none of them are what she truly wants to do.

Tobin is closer now, nostrils flared as they sit in charged silence. Her eyes are searching for anything that will betray Christen’s feelings. And so she does, catching the shakiest of breaths.

“It wasn’t nothing.” Tobin breathes out, nose to nose with Christen now. The striker’s unsure hands move up, resting on Tobin’s warm torso. She falls into the chasm between them, closing it.

Tobin’s mouth is hungry, pressing and pushing with a ferocity that’s heart pounding. Christen is reserved. She’s exploring, curious. Her hands make their way up to Tobin’s jaw, cradling her head.

Tobin’s hands are pushing at Christen’s chest, fabric getting caught between strong fingers searching for more of anything and everything.

Christen pulls back for air, and to assess the woman with blown pupils across from her. Her hair has static flyaways, and the striker gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ears. Tobin whines at the sudden loss.

“We…we can’t. Tobin, we shouldn’t, you don’t even like me.”

It’s Tobin’s turn to frown, her lower lip swollen from moments before. She shifts at the change in atmosphere.

“That’s not true.” She offers, looking down at her hands now twisting the brown hotel bedspread.

“It’s not?” Christen looks curiously at the older player. She can’t read Tobin and it’s driving her insane. She’s used to boyfriends and girlfriends who she can read—body language or intentions, next moves and she’d even predict her own breakups. But Tobin is confident while seeming aloof. She’s an arrow without a path, a hike with no map. She doesn’t make sense.

“You drive me crazy. When I played you in college, you were a menace. I remember that final, every time we play. When I’m scrimmaging against you, I can’t keep up. And I’m fast. Like I’m fast Chris. But you’re just a speed bullet. And you see things…spaces that I can’t fit myself into. And it drives me insane. But that’s admiration.” She pauses to rub the back of her neck, looking up at Christen with maybe the softest pair of brown eyes she’s ever seen. “You drive me insane off the field too. I think you’re stuck up, actually. And I think you create this wall of armor, let your accolades speak for you while you get overlooked,”

“Gee thanks Tobin.” Christen interjects with an eye roll, shaking her head. “You think I’m a bitch.”

Tobin pulls back, straightening her back and shaking her head. “No. I’d never say that. You’re not a…bitch,” she pauses, struggling to say bitch even though she’s routinely said it on the pitch under her breath. Has she at some point wanted to call Christen a bitch? Maybe. But it feels wrong on her tongue. She wants to scrub the word off.

Christen sighs, getting off her bed and going to her luggage. She’s digging for pjs, trying to ignore Tobin.

“I didn’t say those traits were bad.”

Christen rolls her eyes, pulling a pair of sweats from her bag. She doesn’t have a comeback. A defense of herself without a jury of her peers.

Tobin’s eyes stare at Christen’s back, not willing to let their conversation drop. Pain stings across her stomach, a reminder of the events of the day.

Christen changes in their bathroom, the dull hum of the light the only sound in the suite. She feels hurt if she’d have to put a finger on it. Her brain feels foggy, like it’s blanketed in layers of rain clouds threatening to spill over.

‘I think you’re stuck up, actually’ echoed in her ears, sinking deeper into her heart. Christen had come across that particular critique of herself more than a few times in life. Neurotic was another. A favorite of childhood bullies and college pricks.

She steadies herself against the sink, staring at herself in the mirror. She’s upset with herself,
naturally. Because while Tobin’s comment crawls under her skin, she can’t help but think about their kiss the other day. Just as Tobin had mentioned earlier, they knew each other before the Olympics. Not just of her but their paths had crossed multiple times before. College championship games. And then there was Pali Blues but Christen was a reserve player floating wherever she was needed as a super sub.

And every time Tobin played against her it made her skin prickle in anticipation. She would sit on the bench with her eyes laser focused on the brunette ponytail with 98 emblazoned on her jersey. Defenders be damned. She lost first championship to Tobin Heath, and then her heart.

Christen opens the bathroom door, hesitating in the door frame as she sees Tobin sitting exactly where she was before.

“Our conversation wasn’t over,” she offers quietly. She had sat up slightly, folding her legs in and her long hair was mussed from raking her hands through it.

Christen drops her clothes into the team supplied hamper, turning to face Tobin once more.

“I think it was.” Firm. Christen moves to the bed, sitting on top. Tobin still hasn’t budged.

“No…I-I you didn’t let me finish Chris.” She states with a sigh. Her hands are playing with a string from the bedspread, careful not to pull to make a hole. Her brow is furrowed and her tongue darting across her swollen lips.

“Finish what Tobin? Calling me stuck up? What’s next, am I frigid? Do I kiss like I’m sterile—”

Tobin takes her chance to run her fingers up and to Christen’s knee. It stops Christen in her tracks. Her trpalm covers the round, bony flesh.

“You’re not frigid. Opposite, in fact.” She states as if it’s a matter of fact. Christen doesn’t believe her. She scoffs.

“Shut up.” It’s cool and cruel from Christen’s lips, but Tobin isn’t phased. The older player hears it as a threat, rather than a command. She shrugs.

“You can’t even take a compliment Chris?” It’s teasing, it’s aloof, and it’s meant to make Christen feel insane. And Tobin’s successful.

Christen’s embarrassment floods her body and she’s curling her toes to try and stop it. Her body clenches at the violence of the emotion coursing through her. The worst part is she knew Tobin was enjoying this.

“Stop it.” She growls. “You’re getting in my head and I don’t appreciate it.” Christen leans forward, locking eyes with the midfielder. Nostrils are flared. Tobin runs her fingertips along Christen’s forearm, shaking her head. She’s close enough to smell Christen’s perfume.

Tobin likes the way her brain is telling her ‘danger’ as she keeps egging Christen’s anger on. She can’t help but relish in it.

But, despite her short nails on Christen’s goosebump covered skin, she’s holding herself back. Tobin won’t, can’t get herself to, make a move without Christen expressing consent. And she’s not going to push for it either.

“Okay.” Tobin breathes out, pulling back ever so slightly. The adrenaline speaks in their silence. Breathing bouncing back and forth like a tennis volley.

“I think it’s best we go to bed,” Christen pulls herself away, going to shuffle the already closed blinds and curtain. Tobin rolls her eyes, taking the cue to change and brush her teeth.

She picks up her long teeshirt and a fresh pair of boxers, closing the bathroom door and is oblivious to Christen’s internal walking-cleaning-private exclamations-

Tobin’s eyes are immediately on the bruise across her stomach. It’s less angry than it was this morning. The blue and purple had lightened slightly. Less of an angry near black color.

She traces it with her index finger, hissing at the sting. The ibuprofen had helped Tobin not feel the pain as she moved, stretched, or changed but it didn't catch everything.

Tobin shimmies on the teeshirt, pulls up the boxers, and brushes her teeth. She can still hear Christen rummaging around their suite. Tobin can’t recall their room being that messy, especially for camp standards. She shrugs, pushing open the door.

Christen is repacking her suitcase. She has everything in piles on the floor. Neat ones nevertheless, still in piles.

“Have a one way ticket out of here or something?” Tobin drawls, leaning against the door frame. She yawns, stretching out. Her black sleep shirt rises, showing her toned abs poking out just above the boxer briefs.

“It’ll be faster if we don’t make it past this next round.” Christen states matter of factly while folding a training tank before sliding it into place. Tobin’s brows furrow, her forehead crinkles at the thought.

“What on earth do you mean…we still have tomorrow before we go to New Castle…” She rubs her eyes, finding them heavy.

“Well. Yes we do.” The striker stands up, going over to their desk. She starts rummaging through all the things, her books and Tobin’s bible, and their us soccer water bottles among other branded things. “But that’s either move on or go home after all. Final match is here.”

Tobin sits on her bed, blinking back sleep. “Chris. Just take a breather. Go to bed.”

Christen faces the sleepy eyed brunette, seeing the day's events played out on her drooping face. She relents slowly, setting down the bag in her hand.

“Fine.”