Endgame: Chapter 15 (Patreon)

Endgame: Chapter 15

Thanksgiving break was too short, and by the time the first lab of the week was almost done, I was itching to get out of class. Tonight was the game that determined if we’d go to the championship, and to say I was anxious would’ve been an understatement. I tried to be patient and not rush my partner through tasks that we needed to do together, but watching Steph finish her experiment and get to leave before me almost made me regret not being her partner anymore. I managed to stick it out, and we finished with only a few minutes left in the period.

Steph was still outside when I left the room, and since I was planning on waiting for Morgan to get out of class, I stopped. “You got to stop finishing early,” I told her, “or I’m moving back to your table.”

She laughed. “Sorry, I’ll slow it down next time.”

I smiled and glanced around the empty hall. “You weren’t waiting for me, were you?”

She shook her head. “Alyssa, actually.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, we got back together.”

“Well, that’s good,” I said, taking in her noticeable lack of enthusiasm. “Right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I mean, I think so?” My eyebrows furrowed. “I really love her, it’s just…” She glanced around warily. “I don’t know, things feel a little different now.”

I nodded and studied her for a few seconds, trying to decide whether she wanted me to say anything or just listen. I decided she wanted me to say something. “I know we had our issues, but even though we weren’t right for each other, it wasn’t because we didn’t try.” I shrugged. “You deserve someone who’s going to try as hard as you do.”

“Thanks, Audrey,” she said with a tiny smile. But then she hesitated before saying anything else, and I recognized the forthcoming look in her eyes as she took in a breath.

“I’m going to,” I gestured to the opposite end of the hall, “go wait for Morgan. Big game tonight.”

“Oh, right,” she said, almost looking defeated. “Good luck.”

I gave an awkward wave and retreated to the other end of the hall just as Morgan’s class was getting out. She grinned when she saw me, and hurried over to give me a happy kiss in greeting.

“How was class?” I asked, grabbing her hand as I leaned back against the wall.

“Okay,” she answered, “I’m definitely going to need help with the new section though.”

“Study date at your house?” I asked.

She grimaced. “Date date at my house?”

 “Study.” I poked her in the chest, which only made her frown. “Then we can make out.”

That cheered her up, and she leaned forward against me and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You’re the best.” When she pulled away, I grabbed the collar of her sweater and pulled her in for one more kiss. “How are you feeling about tonight?” she asked. I groaned, and she laughed, “Thought so. What’re you going to do?”

“I need to get rid of some extra energy. I’ll probably listen to music and go for a hike around campus.”

“I’ll call you when I’m out of my next class? We can grab something to eat before we have to be at the bus.”

“Sounds perfect,” I said.

She gave me one more kiss, said, “Bye,” and then left to head to class.

I trekked to my dorm room to change into a warm set of exercise clothes, and then grabbed my earbuds and went outside. It was a gorgeous, crisp day, and there were plenty of natural paths that cut through campus for me to explore. I’d walked them all before, but it was like a new experience every time when I had different music to listen to. It did a good enough job of distracting me too, and before I knew it, Morgan was calling.

“All done?” I asked when I answered.

“Yeah,” she said. “Where you at? I’ll pick you up.”

“I’ll meet you outside the engineering building. Should I call Zulema and see if she wants to come?”

She hummed her agreement. “I’ll be there in ten minutes and then we can get her.”

“Okay, bye.” I hung up and dialed ZuZu, telling her we’d be there soon when she agreed to go.

Morgan picked me up at the engineering building in her truck, and then we drove by Zulema’s dorm to get her.

“Where are we going?” she asked, sliding onto the bench seat beside me as Morgan pulled away from the curb.

“Street tacos?” I suggested, passing a smug look at her.

She glared. “I will murder you.”

I snorted, and Morgan said, “There’s a joke here.”

ZuZu and I looked at each other, me with my lips pursed in a poorly contained grin until she laughed. “Fine. Last year I had shitty tacos right before a game.”

“Oh, no,” Morgan murmured.

“’Oh, no’ is an understatement,” ZuZu said. “My stomach started gurgling twenty minutes in.” I was already laughing, which made Morgan snicker preemptively. “I couldn’t even wait for a sub. I sprinted off the field the second there was a whistle and barely made it to the bathroom in time.”

“You’re forgetting the best part!” I cackled. “She’s sprinting off the field and all of us are watching her, wondering where the hell she’s going, and she just screams, ‘tacooooooos!’ We almost got carded for wasting time because some of us were laughing so hard.”

Morgan burst into laughter, barely managing to ask, “What did Coach say when you got back?”

“She couldn’t even stop laughing when she asked if I felt better,” Zulema chortled.

“Oh my god,” Morgan said, trying not to buckle over while she drove. “That’s priceless.”

“Yeah. It only took Audrey explaining it from their perspectives for me to find it funny too.”

I inhaled to get my amusement under control, and said, “There’s been a team-wide ban on game day tacos ever since.”

“Smart,” Morgan chuckled. “So, no tacos, then. Want to get burgers instead?”

We agreed, and she took us through a drive-thru for burgers and fries, and then we headed to the locker room to get our gear before meeting everyone else at the bus. It was a little longer of a drive than our last away game, but we were all so excited and anxious for it that the ride went by quickly. I changed into my uniform with the rest of the team, and then headed onto the field to warm up. We were supposed to start with a lap on our side of the field, but I’d gotten relaxed on the drive with how happy everyone was, and I didn’t want to get too serious and give my nerves a chance to come back.

So, before Morgan could take off on her lap, I jumped onto her back and shouted, “Go!”

“Seriously?” she laughed, bumping me up into a more secure position. “Hey, ZuZu, want to race to the other side?”

Zulema looked around for another teammate who hadn’t started running yet. “Lopez! Jump on!”

Lopez yelled, “Woo!” and jumped onto ZuZu’s back.

“We’ll switch across the field and do another quarter,” I said.

Zulema cheated and spat, “One two three start!” as she started running.

“Hey!” Morgan took off after them.

Lopez and I were both screaming to try and speed them up, and a few other girls who were beginning their lap jogged alongside to cheer us on. Morgan had just caught up as we reached the other side of the field, and she dropped me off her back and then hopped onto mine when I turned around. She reached out and pushed Lopez’s shoulder as Zulema was about to get on her back, knocking her balance off so she staggered sideways a step.

“Cheater!” ZuZu yelled.

It messed us up too since I was laughing about it, and they caught up, so we were running side by side. I went as fast as I could, but we ended up reaching the half-lap mark at the same time. I dropped Morgan and buckled over with Zulema to catch our breath, holding up my hand to her and Lopez for a high five. After a few more seconds of recovery, we finished the rest of our lap and then went into drills with the rest of the team. And soon after that, the game was on.

It was a tough game – we knew it would be – but I was more motivated than ever to win, and that energy carried to my team. We played with heart, sprinting faster, passing cleaner, and communicating more than we ever did. The other team wanted it too. They bodied up and challenged in ways that only forced us to try harder. No one had scored by the half, and I could tell my team was getting tired.

After Coach’s pep talk, I tried to motivate them too. “Hey, I know you’re all tired,” I said, “but you’re playing damn good.” They nodded and patted each other on the backs. “Keep it up. We’re going to get our goal and we’re going to semis. This is our season, right?” They nodded again. “Right?”

“Right!”

“Right?”

“Right!”

“That’s right!” I held my hand out. “Comets on three!” Other hands piled on top of mine. “One! Two! Three!”

“Comets!”

That short break, three fresh subs, and a little enthusiasm was exactly what we needed. We went into the second half with the same amount of energy as we’d started the game with, and fifteen minutes later, we finally scored our first goal. We celebrated as much as we dared, but the game wasn’t over yet, and that goal only made the other team play harder. They upped their intensity, fighting and charging with more assertiveness, and after only ten more minutes, they pushed it too far.

We gained possession and I sent a pass up midfield to Morgan. She turned to start running with the ball, eyes up to look for another pass, and the girl defending her went for a slide tackle. But she missed the ball and collided right into Morgan’s leg. Morgan went down face first as whistles blew. And she didn’t get up. I sprinted over while she pushed onto her elbows, fists clenched as she set her forehead against the grass. The girl who’d performed the tackle had been ushered away by the ref even though the worry was clear on her face, and she took a knee several feet away while I slid to my knees at Morgan’s side.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I murmured, “what’s going on?”

Coach and the ref had come over, and both of them squatted down.

“My knee,” Morgan said, rolling onto her back. “It popped.”

Shit. “Okay,” I said as calmly as I could, “do you think you can get up?”

She tried to sit up, but even that small amount of pressure on her leg made her grimace. She shook her head and dropped back down. The game medics came out with a stretcher and slid her onto it, and I followed as they carried her off the field. They dropped her off to let her lay on the ground by the bench, and even though I had to rush because the refs weren’t going to wait to start the game back up, I squatted down next to her.

“Give me ten minutes,” she said, “and I’ll be back out there kicking ass.”

 She was joking, but I took the cold pack the medics had prepared and set it gently on her knee. “Keep that on there, and I don’t care if it stops hurting, you stay here. Trying to play again will make it worse.”

“I actually don’t think I could try if I wanted to,” she admitted with a sigh, but she took one look at the concern on my face and tried to smile. “But don’t worry about me, focus on the game.” I nodded, glancing down at her knee. “Audrey,” she said seriously, “we’re down a player now. I want you to focus on the game, okay? If you don’t want me back on the field, then you better get out there and win for me.”

“Okay,” I said, and the determination on her face got me to smile. “I will.”

I pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, got hasty guidance from Coach to switch to a defensive formation, and ran onto the field.

“I’m dropping back,” I called to my teammates as we lined up for a throw in. “Three center backs, four defensive mids. Guppa, play center back. We got this, let’s go!”

They adjusted like I said, and the game was back on. The only reason I was able to think about the game – instead of how bad Morgan’s injury likely was – was because it’s what she wanted, and I knew that if I let myself be distracted then I’d never hear the end of it. And at least the consequences of the other team’s intensity got them to tone it down a bit. They still played like hell, but we didn’t need to score. All we had to do was keep them from scoring, and the alterations to our strategy worked well. They got close to scoring a few times, but Zulema was the hero of the game, and we ended one to zero.

It looked like the team celebrated all the way to the locker room, but I didn’t follow them off the field, and dropped onto the grass beside Morgan. Coach and Zulema hung around too, and Morgan was smiling as she gave ZuZu a high five.

“Thanks for sitting out,” Zulema teased, flexing her arms, “and sharing the spotlight.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Morgan laughed.

“How’s your knee?” I asked.

“Still hurts,” she answered.

“Can I see it?”

Morgan removed the cold pack and undid the bandage that had been wrapped around it to show us. It was swollen, and while it was a good thing that she hadn’t been taken from the game for a broken bone, that didn’t mean it wasn’t bad.

“What did the medics say?” I asked.

Morgan pursed her lips, and I glanced up to see Coach giving me the same look.

I steepled my hands over my nose and mouth, asking through them, “It’s your ACL, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” she murmured. “But they still want me to go to a clinic tonight and make sure nothing’s fractured.”

“Okay,” I sighed. And I didn’t really know what else to say, so I looked at Coach again and told her, “Me and Zulema got this, Coach, we’ll take Morgan to the bus.”

She nodded, patted Morgan on the shoulder, and went in the direction of the locker room. I reached for the wrap Morgan had removed, and pressed a soft kiss to the point of her knee before I started to wrap it back up.

When I finished, I met her eyes and tried to lighten the disappointment in them. “You know, I really love the trophy you got me at the art show.”

And she looked at me and smiled. “I guess it’s a good thing I got it for you.”

“Come on, let’s get you to the bus.”

Zulema and I each took one of her hands as she dug the heel of her uninjured right leg into the ground, and we pulled her up. Her arms went around our shoulders, and we helped her walk to the bus and into the seats we’d had on the way there. I sat down next to her, and when she shifted sideways in the seat to lean her back against the window, I helped her stretch her legs out over my thighs.

“I’ll get your bags,” Zulema said. “You need anything else?” We shook our heads, and she gave Morgan a sympathetic smile before leaving the bus.

Morgan and I sat there for a minute in silence, and then I asked seriously, “How much pain are you in?”

“It’s bearable,” she answered. She sighed and dropped her head back against the window. “I’m going to need surgery, huh?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “We’ll make sure nothing else is going on tonight, and then tomorrow you can try to see an orthopedic.”

“You know what sucks the most?” she asked, and I hummed. “I really wanted to have a championship goal to my name.”

I huffed with laughter, but I knew her, and I knew how she used humor. I grabbed her hand and brought it to my lips, kissing the back and then tucking it under my chin. “What are you actually worried about?”

Her eyes lingered on mine for a handful of seconds before she gave a sad smile and looked down. “I’m worried I won’t play soccer as well. I’m worried that when I do play, I’ll be scared of hurting it again. I’m worried that’ll make me not like playing anymore.”

I leaned sideways to lay my head on her shoulder as I wrapped my arms around her torso. “You’ll play again. Whether or not you need surgery, you’ll have physical therapy and you’ll get your strength back. You’ll play.” I squeezed her and then sat up so I could look at her. “Then you can start trying to kick my ass on the field again.”

“Trying,” she repeated with a snort.

I laughed and leaned in to kiss her. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Thanks.” She set her forehead against mine and kissed me once more, then reached under the seat for her backpack. “I guess I should tell my mom we’re going to the doctor tonight.” I nodded while she pulled her cell phone out of her bag. “Hey,” she said when her mom answered. There was a pause. “The game was good, we won.” But whatever her mom said next, she squeezed her eyes shut and let out a heavy breath away from the speaker of her phone. “I hurt my knee tonight. I’m going to the urgent care before I come home.” Another pause. “No. Don’t worry about it. No. No. Mom, I’ll drive myself, just get some rest.” She didn’t wait for much of a response before she hung up and dropped her phone back into her bag.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Her eyes fell to her lap. “She didn’t sound like she was in the right condition to drive me anywhere.”

I took her hand again. “Pip?”

“Night shift,” she answered.

“I’ll take you.”

She met my gaze. “You sure? You have class tomorrow, it’s going to be a long night.”

“So?”

And she shrugged. “School’s important to you.”

“Morgan, you’re important to me.”

“I know,” she said, thinking about it for a second before giving an amused laugh like she was embarrassed she’d implied otherwise. “I know, it’s just, it’s not like I’m dying or anything.”

“Uh huh… okay, then how were you planning on getting into the urgent care if you can’t walk on that leg?”

She looked at me, then at her leg, and then back at me while her lips pulled into a smile. “That’s a good point,” she laughed.

“I’m taking you,” I said. “And then I’m staying the night so I can make sure you keep it elevated and iced.”

“You just want to cuddle with me,” she accused.

“I also just want to cuddle with you,” I admitted.

She held out her arms, and I leaned sideways against her and got comfortable as she wrapped them around me and rested her head on top of mine. “Thanks, Audrey.”