Page 29 of Always on My Mind

“It was a dream,” she said softly, willing her heart to return to a normal rate. “It was just a dream.”

She sat up straighter and her free hand met something hard. Glancing down, she found the Emily Dickinson book there. She had fallen asleep reading it.

With a huff, she picked it up and set it on her nightstand. She still wasn’t sure Lila was right about poetry revealing the contents of the soul. Jamie hardly understood most of it, though apparently the language was affecting her. Only that, and her thoughts of Tessa, could explain that dream.

“Old-timey lesbian rubbish,” Jamie muttered, turning her back on the book and closing her eyes.

The dream still lingered in Jamie’s thoughts as she pulled her kit over her head in the Stanmore dressing room the following morning at training. She had eventually gotten back to sleep—dreamless, thank goodness—but the images flashed before her eyes all through her morning coffee and breakfast. Now, as she laced up her boots, the look in Tessa/Verity’s eyes haunted her.

“Jamie,” Niamh said, drawing her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Is my ponytail off center?”

Jamie blinked and gazed at her. The bleach blonde strands were pulled into a perfect ponytail at the crown of Niamh’s head, with a pink headband to keep the baby hairs back.

“Looks dead center to me,” Jamie said.

“Good,” Niamh replied with a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Jamie glanced around at her other teammates, chatting and helping each other get ready for training. It was Monika’s turn to help Zahra with her pins. Sofia braided Mai’s hair. Neriah sat on Eliana’s lap on the bench in front of the latter’s locker. A few of them were already warming up, helping each other with calf stretches. All eyes turned on Rebecca when her office door came open and she emerged with her mouth in a grim line as if she were about to announce someone had died.

“Ladies, I’ve got some news this morning,” she said, and Jamie’s stomach twisted. “There’s been a. . . PR issue with Stanmore’s owner, and—”

“Is this the hooker thing?” Neriah piped up. “I read about that last night!”

“The what?” Paige gasped.

“Apparently our owner was caught with two hookers at a hotel and now the press is eating him alive and saying he hates women and shit,” Neriah said.

Jamie’s jaw dropped, and the room erupted with questions. She couldn’t place who said what, but she heard “Will he be resigning? When?” “What does that mean for the club?” “Maybe we’ll get a woman owner!”

“Ladies, ladies, please!” Rebecca called over the din, waving her arms to quiet them further. The noise died down and they were all focused on her again. “Mr. Rogers has unfortunately been the subject of scrutiny as of late. In an effort to prove he views women equal to men, he has decided the women’s professional team should not be using the academy facilities.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow at the manager. “So. . . we’re getting our own?”

Rebecca’s mouth turned down. “I’m afraid not.”

“Then what—”

“We’re sharing with the men’s team.”

A pregnant beat of silence passed before Eliana let out an anguished “NO!” and the rest of them shouted their agreement with the sentiment. Again Jamie only picked out bits and pieces of her teammates’ protests.

“But what about dressing rooms?” “This only further proves he hates women!” “They spit! My boots will be covered in spit!” “We need our own pitch!” “This isn’t fair!” “Why are we being punished?”

Rebecca raised her hands once more, and the team fell silent. “Listen, I’m as upset about this as you are. I appealed to everyone I could to keep us where we are, but they said he is absolutely firm in this decision. As of today, we will be training alongside the men and our matches will take place at the Hive.”

For a long moment, no one spoke.

“But. . . what about dressing rooms?” Zahra asked, fingers toying with her hijab.

“We’ll keep our dressing room,” Rebecca assured her. “We’ll just be huffing it over to the men’s practice pitch once we’re ready.”

“We can use it as a warm up jog,” Monika said, though it was half-hearted.

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