Scoring Wilder(20)

Olympics, watch the f*ck out, Becca and I… and sure, maybe Tara, are coming your way.




I got my first taste of blood-hungry reporters after practice that day. They were out in the parking lot, hovering around our cars with their clapping lenses and giant microphones. I walked toward them, while simultaneously hitting the unlock button on my car.

“Kinsley!— Kinsley Bryant!— Can we get a quick question—Becca—Becca?!” They were clamoring over one another to be heard, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before Coach Davis shooed them away. They were relentless. Even as I ignored them and kept walking to my car, their questions pierced the air, too loud and obnoxious to ignore.

They asked about Liam Wilder and his Tonight Show appearance; I answered quickly with either “yes” or “no” and then pushed past them. They didn’t give up, though, and kept pestering us as we hopped into my car and locked the doors.

They were too close for comfort and even as I started my car, they were brave enough to stand directly behind my car’s bumper. Little did they know I wasn’t above backing over nasty reporters. Spoiler: the rest of this story takes place from a jail cell.

“I can’t believe that,” Becca said from the back seat.

“When they want to talk about our soccer skills I'll be more than willing to give them an interview,” I huffed, clicking my seatbelt into place with a bit too much force.

“Agreed,” Becca said with a scowl.

As I backed up out of my spot, I turned around to see Tara still standing with the reporters. I’d forgotten about her during our trek to the car. All of the cameras were trained on her and she had a smile that practically engulfed her entire face. I think the girl had found nirvana.

…



"So do you guys want to come with me to the spa?" I asked Becca and Emily later that afternoon. We’d survived the first week of practice and now it was time to celebrate.

"Yes!" Becca yelled, jumping off the bed. I knew she'd be game.

"That'd be fun, but my boyfriend is coming into town for the weekend and I have to go get him from the airport," Emily frowned.

"Is he staying at the house?" I asked as she leaned against the doorway that separated my room from our shared bathroom.

"Yes," Emily began lightly, "if that's okay? I know it sucks to share a bathroom with a guy, but you say the word and we'll go get a hotel."

"Of course it's fine. Becca and I won't be home until late tonight and then there's that party tomorrow, so take advantage. You can have full-on kinky bathroom sex, just clean up afterward.” I managed to say most of that with a straight face.

All right, yes, I purposely crossed the line with Emily because it was just too fun making her blush at the mention of sex. I still couldn't believe that out of all of us, she was the most sexually active.

"I bet you're a freak in the sheets," Becca said with a suggestive wink.

Emily's face was now officially on fire. "Oh my god, you guys can't talk like that! His dad's a preacher and David is really shy."

Becca and I gave each other a knowing glance. "Yup, they definitely have kinky sex. Preacher-son-kinky-sex," Becca said, and we lost it for another minute.

“I bet he’s the only boy who could ever teach her,” I said with a devious smile.

Becca shot me a sly grin and then added, “yeah… I think that’s because he’s the son of a…”

“PREACHER MAN,” we both sang in harmony before cracking up.

“Guys!” Emily stomped her foot on the ground, making the entire situation ten times funnier. But eventually, I pulled myself together, stood up, and put my hands on Emily's shoulders.

"I swear to go easy on him.”

"Yeah. Yeah. See you guys later, have fun at the spa!" Emily called as we tromped down the stairs.




"I'll definitely split it with you," I promised as we pulled up in front of the fancy building.

"Don't worry about it. My mom doesn't mind if I get a massage every now and then. She knows it helps work out the knots from soccer."

"Awesome, then we can splurge on other stuff."

"Let's get Brazilians," Becca suggested with a straight face as we hopped out of the car.

"A Brazilian wax? Hell no."

"What? You don't get them?" Becca asked, clearly surprised.

Sorry, but I don’t need my hair ripped out by some rando in the back room of a sketchy waxing place.

"Nope."

"Oh my god, you're getting one! You have to try it at least once and it'll be good to get one now while it's summer. We can even go to the beach tomorrow and show them off."

I gave her a pointed stare. "How do you show off a Brazilian wax, Becca? 'Hey everyone, check out my shiny vagina'?"

Becca burst out laughing. "Okay, that sounded dumb. But seriously, I'm making you get one. If you hate it, you don't have to get another one."

I knew she’d end up getting her way, so I didn’t bother fighting it. I was mildly curious about it anyway.

I knew the spa would be high-end, but when we stepped inside, I felt like we were out of place. Soft music played from hidden speakers as water trickled down the side of an intricate fountain built into one of the walls. There was no one else in the waiting room except for a receptionist stationed behind the front desk wearing a calm smile.