Page 61 of Tell Me Softly
She barely moved and didn’t answer. I took off for Kate’s room. At least she was awake and opened the door, though she was still in her pajamas with a cup of coffee in her hand.
“What’s up?” she asked, letting me in.
“Kate, have you seen what time it is?”
“Uhh. Yeah.” She put her cup down and grabbed a hairband to pull back her hair.
She had a giant hickey on her neck.
“Marissa, get up!” I shouted, pulling back the covers. “Kate, come on! We need to practice!”
Kate scowled at me.
“Could you just relax?” she asked wearily. “We’ll do a quick run-through before the game. We’ve already practiced a million times anyway.”
“Kate, we need that pre-game practice, it’s what helps us to––”
“Drop it, Kami. You’re not the fucking captain anymore; can’t you get that through your head?”
I walked out and slammed the door. She had no idea how to run a squad.
An hour later, we finally made it to the gym, with just ninety minutes until the game. And we hadn’t even warmed up! My teammates had bags under their eyes and were barely talking to each other.
That’s why I’d always made sure no one got drunk the night before a game back when I was leading them!
We stretched out and did a run-through, and nobody could stop screwing things up. It was bad. We were nervous, and Kate was starting to freak out.
“What the hell is up with you guys?” she shouted after a totally uncoordinated routine.
I tried as hard as I could to bite my tongue. It was obvious what was up. Everyone was hungover!
“Again, dammit!” she screamed. We all looked back and forth. I knew it was pointless to say anything just then. But I would later, no question about it.
In the changing room, we put on our uniforms and did our hair and makeup. Everyone had to use extra base to cover up the bags under their eyes.
“What time did y’all go to bed yesterday?” I asked Ellie as she braided her hair.
“Like…four-thirty?” she said, a little embarrassed.
I couldn’t believe it.
As we emerged into the gym, everyone faked a smile, trying to pretend that they weren’t worried about blowing it.
It was the first time in ages I’d felt nervous before a competition. Normally, I loved the adrenaline, the music, the raucous atmosphere. I looked up in the stands and saw the guys ready to cheer us on. They looked tired too, and Thiago, off by himself in one corner of the bleachers, was clearly furious. I had butterflies in my stomach, but I needed to focus, so I turned away from him.
Kate was saying some bullshit about how we were the best and who knows what else. My blood was boiling.
Someone shouted into a megaphone for the first team to come out, and we all sat down to see who our competition was.
As soon as the music began to boom and their routine started, I knew we were doomed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Thiago
What a bunch of assholes.
Each and every one of them.
