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The coaches had spent the night off to the side of the club all night, watching, drinking, and mildly participating. They had too. The win they’d just managed had to be celebrated. But they weren’t celebrating as hard as the girls were.
Though there was only one set of eyes that Gemma cared about. And they’d been watching her all night. Not in a secret way, or an intense way, but a chiller, far scarier way. As though it was natural, as though she’d been doing it for years.
Feeling the thrill of the drinks in her, or maybe running off the high that Alice’s attention gave her, Gemma dealt with her hyperactivity in the only way she knew how to. Being a little shit.
The whole night, she’d be dancing and watching Alice. Mouthing the words. Taunting her to come onto the floor. She didn’t have much faith that Alice would, but a small part of her still hoped she would.
She remembered what had once been. When they’d set aside their differences on the rare occasion when they were at Arsenal, she’d been the one at the club with Gemma till lights out. Gemma had a secret envelope of all the photobooth pictures and digi-cam photos taken on those nights. Alice’s eyes bright and mirthful, her own filled with something she’d never named.
(There were other things too, that she remembered. Gemma remembered how fucking bony her shoulders were to sleep on, when she’d fallen asleep on the bus. She’d never forget how world-consuming it was to find out how comfy Alice’s chest was to rest on, but that had happened one time by accident, and neither of them admitted to having that memory.)
(Gemma remembered how softly Alice would sing in the shower when she knew only Gemma was in the locker room, or their away hotel room)
(Gemma remembered her fuckass order of an Americano with a squeeze of lemon, that she’d squeeze in secret in the cafeteria, always so afraid of being judged. But she let Gemma know. Gemma had left a coffee on her desk after last week, when she’d driven her home after a particularly arduous training session. Clearly no one else knew her weird little order still, because the next day Gemma found a pack of Simpkins Rhubarb and Custard sweets in her locker. The same sweets she’d eat before every game at Arsenal for “good luck”.)
(Gemma remembered that no one knew that she knew Alice like that. That no one knew, someone knew her like that. And that Alice was that person. And that in the dark and shameful parts of her brain, she still classified Alice as…her person.)
(Gemma remembered how it felt to be told that she was the only person on Alice’s list. The way a single sentence had taken the embers in her heart she’d never fully stamped out, and stoked them into flames again. She was Alice’s whole list.)
So, she had a strange fate when Downtown by Macklemore. It was a song they’d sung together many times, dancing in the dark, like there was no one else in the room with them. It had even been an inside joke when the training playlist would cycle through the same old songs again and again, eventually playing this one.
It made her feel brave for a moment.
“Come on, guys, we should be closer to the coaches. We’re a team!” Gemma shouted over the music, to the delight of her drunk teammates. Bodies jostled around her till the group was closer to the coaches. Everyone was singing, dancing, giggling. She felt drunk on the euphoria, or maybe the tequila.
Or maybe it was because Alice was smiling at her as she mouthed the lyrics. That smile where the corners of her lips twitched upwards, that smile that no one else knew was the signal that Alice was about to turn her back and grin at a wall.
She adored that smile. A bunch of drunk women screaming downtown. She raised a challenging eyebrow at Alice before one of the women pulled her back around to face them. She missed Alice draining her drink, setting it on a random sticky table.
It was probably for the best. She was a train heading off the tracks, as she vied for attention Alice couldn’t give her, or simply wouldn’t give her. So she threw herself back into the song, hoping to let herself drown in the happiness of the moment with the team, standing in the middle of their little huddle.
Then, in the sweaty heat of the club, she felt two fingers slip into the waistband of her jeans. They were cold against the base of her spine, before they crooked and tugged her. Backwards. Forcing her to stumble backwards into the person.
She has her arms around your waist.
Alice’s long arms wrapped around her waist, holding Gemma tightly in a hug. Standing in the middle of the team, she saw each of the women turning, gaping and hollering. Lizzie watched carefully, with a thoughtful furrow of the brow.
With a balance that will keep her safe,
Gemma tilted her head to the side, turning to look over her shoulder at Alice. A smile stretched across her face as she reached behind her to cup the other woman’s cheek. There was a twinkle in Alice’s eye, one she hadn’t seen in years. To anyone else, it looked like exasperation or arrogance. To Gemma, she knew it was playfulness.
Have you ever felt the warm embrace,
The forward twisted in her arms, and she put them on Alice’s shoulders. She didn’t wrap her hands around her neck like she once would’ve. They weren’t 20 anymore, when Gemma was the only one in the world who could hold Alice like that.
She was her coach now. Not her most loathed teammate, not her inseparable roommate, not her… Alice. To make matters worse, her head coach was watching intently. Everyone was. No one knew them this way. No one knew Alice this way.
A spike of possessiveness shot through Gemma. No one knew Alice like this anymore.
And yet, Alice had still initiated this. Maybe they weren’t 20, but maybe she was still the only one who had Alice like this. This was Alice letting her know that.
Of a leather seat between your legs.
Gemma put her hands on Alice’s shoulders, feeling the bones of her collarbone beneath her thumbs. Slowly she pushed her away, watching Alice’s eyebrows raise, a small smirk twitching at her usually impassive face.
Swaying her hips, Gemma lowered herself, her fingertips dragging down the fabric of Alice’s top. Very work-event-appropriate top. Voice masked by the din of the club, she mouthed the lyrics.
Mentally, she dismissed the warmth on her cheeks as heat from the crowded club. Her cheeks were beginning to ache in a way she hadn’t felt in years. Her eyes never leaving Alice’s, she got to watch the moment a grin finally broke through Alice’s mask.
The arms around her waist fell away. Only to be replaced by four fingers this time in her waistband, and dipped slightly into her underwear, yanking her back. Their hips crashed together.
You don’t want no beef, boy.
This time it was Alice singing at her. Down, at her. Not touching her beyond the fingers against her lower stomach. Gemma felt a heat trail down from her face, through her sternum, to pool somewhere she was going to not think about.
Know I run the streets, boy,
Alice pointed at herself as she sang this. It was cocky, in a way she hadn’t seen Alice in years. Gemma felt her knees go weak and jutted her chin up at Alice defiantly, to hide her reaction. It didn’t matter, because she felt Alice’s grip on her jeans get tighter, almost picking Gemma off the floor.
Better follow me, downtown,
Of course she’d never stopped working out. Everyone probably thought she did because of her cancelled gym membership, but it was likely because she didn’t want to be around people.
In fact, she bet Alice was just as conditioned as she’d been at 20, just minus two good knees. Never one to justify laziness, nor cut herself some slack.
What you see is what you get, girl,
Alice’s gaze broke hers for a single second. Flicking over her head, looking to where Gemma knew the team would be standing, and probably staring. Gemma’s gaze never left Alice’s face; in truth, she’d forgotten the whole room existed. Before looking back at her, singing the lyrics a little more earnestly than what was warranted for a club.
Gemma finally understood.
Don’t ever forget, girl.
This wasn’t Alice letting Gemma know that she still had her like that. To touch her like that, to know her like that, to unlock her like that.
She was letting everyone else know. Everyone would know that there were parts of herself that only belonged to Gemma.
Ain’t seen nothing yet, until you're downtown.
Gemma reached up and grabbed the nape of Alice’s neck, and pulled herself close. She felt the other woman’s arm wrap around her, holding her steady. They shared a smile before Gemma turned around again to her teammates. Hand still on Alice’s neck. Alice still holding her firmly against her side.
The lady greyhounds looked crazed, Siobhan shaking her sister like a glowstick whilst jumping up and down. Maddy and Margy were holding their phones, whilst the others shrieked. Suddenly, something had shifted in Gemma’s world. The team hadn’t felt fully right, or complete, before. But it felt full with Alice by her side.