Page 67 of We'll Meet Again

Ethan smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks.”

“If you want, I’ll stay after tomorrow and we’ll work on some different shots, all right?”

“That’d be perfect, Skipper, thank you.”

They shook hands on it.

At that moment, the door to the locker room burst open. The team collectively jumped with surprise, as that wasn’t usually how Coach Warren came in once he got done with the press on the pitch. But it wasn’t Coach Warren. It was Billie, hanging onto Astrid’s arm for dear life while she stumbled, laughing at a volume Ethan had never heard from her before. Nadia and Larysa followed behind, Nadia stepping quickly up to catch Billie when she tripped.

“Sorry to come barreling in, lads,” Astrid said, and she nodded toward a still-giggling Billie. “But this one’s had one pint too many, I’m afraid.”

Ethan got to his feet and relieved Astrid of Billie’s weight. She sagged against him. He could smell beer on her breath and see the rosiness of her cheeks. Her skin was warm too, making him wonder if she had already been sick.

“Hello, love,” she slurred, looking up at him. “My God, you’re sexy after a match.”

He looked at Astrid, stunned. “How many did she have?”

“No idea,” Astrid shrugged.

He looked at Billie again, whose wide eyes were fixed on Jordan. What possessed her to get this drunk? Was something wrong? What did he need to do?

“You’re like, a foot taller than a person’s supposed to be,” she said, and Jordan frowned.

“Okay,” Ethan stopped her, turning her towards his locker. “Billie, what’s gotten into you?”

“Waaaaay too much alcohol,” she admitted freely. Her eyes found her picture taped on the back wall of his locker and she stiffened. Her lips began to tremble. She looked back at him. “We’ve got to break up.”

His heart dropped into his stomach. Not only was he hearing world-ending words from his girlfriend, his whole team heard them too. They were all watching, as it was impossible not to. Peter let out a snort.

“Fucking figures,” he said. “Knight can’t control his woman.”

“Fuck you, Peter, you fucking two pump chump,” Billie shot back.

She didn’t have the high ground very long, as she leaned too far back on the bench and toppled over it with a yelp. The team was laughing, but Ethan couldn’t be sure if it was at Peter or Billie. He struggled to find amusement in either of them. His face burned with humiliation as he helped her back to her feet.

“You ready to go?” Jordan asked quietly. “I can give you guys a lift.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Ethan accepted. “I’ll change at home, I just wanna get out of here.”

Jordan nodded and picked up Ethan’s bag, freeing Ethan to hold Billie up. He tried to ignore the pitying looks on his teammates' faces as they made their way out.

They made it back to Ethan’s place in two minutes flat. Ethan thanked Jordan profusely before practically dragging Billie into the building and up to his floor. She was singing, dancing poorly, and attempted several times to start a make out session in the hallway. Finally, he made it to his apartment, pretty certain it had taken more effort to get her there than he had spent in the whole ninety minutes of football he’d just played. He was grateful he hadn’t showered, since he was sweating all over again. Once she was seated on the bed, he knelt in front of her.

“Hey,” he said seriously. “What do you mean we gotta break up?”

“You’re too good for me,” she whimpered. “I’m so cold and selfish and I hurt everyone. D’you know why?”

He shook his head. “No, darlin’, I don’t.”

“Because I’m a coward,” she said in a whisper. “I’m afraid all the time. Did you know I want to go to law school?”

He blinked, taken aback. She had never so much as mentioned it to him. “I - no, I didn’t.”

“I’ve wanted it since I was a girl,” she went on, still not enunciating properly. “But I’m so fucking scared I won’t get in. Like, the idea of it not working scares me so much that I don’t even try. And I do the same thing to people. I never let anybody close because I’m terrified of getting hurt. That’s why we need to break up. Because I’m gonna hurt you. You, the kind of person who keeps a picture of me in his locker - and a real picture, not one with my tits out or anything.”

“That’s…wow, that’s a lot to take in all at once,” he took a deep breath to slow his racing heart, and met her gaze. “First of all - and I don’t mean this to be a caveman - but if anyone else in that locker room is getting a clear view of your tits, then you need to call a coroner because surely, I’m dead.” She giggled. He started untying the laces of her shoes. “Second, I dunno who put all this nonsense in your head about being selfish, cold, or cowardly, but I hope I never find out. For their sake mostly.” He set her shoes aside. “And finally, I’m not sure you’re in the right mindset to make a final call on breaking up. You wanna put it off until tomorrow?”

“Yes, I think so,” she nodded. “That way we can get a shag in.”

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