Rock Bottom Girl(113)

It was hard to watch.

I flinched over a particularly violent exchange between one of my midfielders and two Bugler girls who were six inches taller. “Way to stick, Matilda,” I called.

My team wasn’t sucking. They just didn’t have much experience yet, and I hoped to God this particular beat-down wouldn’t turn them off of soccer forever.

“Lozenge?” Vicky shoved a bag of cough drops at me. “Homemade whiskey and honey. Heavy on the whiskey.”

“I’m afraid I’ll choke,” I said, pushing the bag back at her.

“Just make sure you save some voice for the next game,” she cautioned me.

“How can you be so calm?”

My friend shrugged under her oversized coach jacket. “Last year, the score would have been 8-0.” She gestured at the scoreboard. “It’s 3-1 with ten minutes left. That’s a huge improvement already. These girls are going to be even better next year.”

Next year, I wouldn’t be here. Next year, someone else would be coaching them. Probably someone else who knew what they were doing.

The field lights clunked on above my head, and I felt the heat of them as if I were in a spotlight.





We lost the JV match. It wasn’t a surprise. But it didn’t do anything to calm my nerves. Between games, I stole five minutes and sought solace in my car. Deep cleansing breaths fogged the windows and did nothing to calm my racing heart. I was going to have a heart attack on the sidelines. Just like their last coach. I’d traumatize my team, ruin Homecoming for the crowd. They’d probably still have the dance later tonight, I rationalized. I wasn’t that much a part of the school and town.

Maybe the DJ would offer a moment of silence before they introduced the King and Queen.

A fist connected briskly with my window and scared the bejesus out of me.

I opened the door and found Jake grinning down at me.

“I’ve come to save you from yourself,” he announced, pulling me from the safety of my car.

“Oh my God. Look at all those people,” I breathed. The entire town of Culpepper was braving the chilly October night to watch my girls play… Well, mostly they were here to see who was crowned Homecoming Queen at halftime.

“Listen to me, Mars. You have a captive audience in those stands. You and those girls have worked your asses off. Show them.”

“What if we lose?” I hated the desperation I heard in my voice.

“Losing is never the end of the world. Losing is where the learning starts.”

“I’ve learned enough. I don’t need to learn anymore.”

He squished my cheeks in his hands, fish-facing my lips. “You put in the work. Your players put in the work. All you have to do is go out there and do your best. Leave it all on the field. It’s okay to care. It’s okay to want to win. It’s not okay to tie your worth as a human being around something like a win or a loss. Got it?”

“Gosh it,” I mumbled through my duck lips.

“Good girl. Now, do you want your present?”

“Yesh pwease.”

He released my face and handed me a small, neatly wrapped box. I took one second to admire the silver wrapping paper before destroying it.

“A fitness watch?” A very expensive fitness watch.

“For your running. Or when you’re walking Homer,” he said, popping it out of the box and fastening it to my wrist. “You can track miles, heart rate, calories. And it’s got Bluetooth. So if I text you some encouragement during the game, you can just look at your wrist instead of digging your phone out and looking like you’re scrolling through Snapchat instead of watching the game.”

I stared down at the glowing watch face. “This is really thoughtful, Jake,” I said. “By encouragement, you don’t mean dick pics, do you?”

He pulled out his phone. “Hang on.”

The watch vibrated on my wrist.

Jake: I’m proud of you, Mars. <3





“Oh.” It was the best I could do. What I wanted was to climb into his arms and smash my face against his chest. But even Jake Weston couldn’t protect me from my fears tonight. I had to face them myself. At least I’d do it with him on my wrist.

He nudged my chin up. “I’m proud of you already. You better be, too. Now, go give your girls a movie-worthy pep talk and have some fun tonight.”

“Okay. And thank you for this.” I held up the watch. “And everything else. You’ve been a really great friend.” My voice cracked.

“Don’t you dare start that, Mars,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You might not know this about me, but I’m an empathetic crier. So pull yourself together, woman, or we’ll both go in there bawling.”

I straightened my shoulders and ran a finger over the watch face.

Jake slapped me on the ass and pushed me in the direction of the stadium entrance.

“Can you text me encouragement like every five minutes or so?” I asked.

“Hell yeah, I can.”





The Culpepper Barn Owls looked as sick and scared as I felt. We were crammed into the same utility room under the announcer’s booth that I’d broken into just a few weeks ago. The sprinkler system panel was now under lock and key. However, I was confident I could easily pick the lock should the need arise. For instance, in case of a 13-0 Homecoming shut-out.