I sigh.
“Yeah, but what about us? Regionals are right around the corner, and we need to be in tip top shape. We need to be focused. We can’t be entertaining all these girls who think they can put on a helmet and a jersey and become the next Joe Montana.”
Mia scoffs.
“Joe Montana? Seriously, that guy is a dinosaur and in this day and age, he would easily be outstripped by Tom Brady, not to mention Russell Westbrook or Simone Biles. No, what I mean is that my actions have actually allowed women to speak up, and that’s got to be worth something. We can’t just always hide in a hole, hoping someone notices us. We have to hold our heads up high and demand equal treatment.”
I slump low in my chair. This conversation is going in circles because Mia just doesn’t get it. Now that everyone at school knows that she’s trying out for the team, other women want in on the action as well. Granted, they don’t know that Mia’s been riding our faces for the last week, but still. The added attention brings danger to our activities, not to mention the fact that we shouldn’t be conducting ourselves this way at all.
After all, tasting a woman’s pussy isn’t exactly kosher, especially with the specter of Title IX hanging over us. Yet, I don’t regret what we did with Mia in the locker room, and I know my friends don’t either. She was lush, sweet, and so delicious, and to be honest, we can’t wait for Level Two.
But Trace holds up his hand, his expression stern.
“We need to do something about this.”
“But what?” Mia asks with confusion. “The cat’s already out of the bag.”
He shoots her a hard look.
“You need to stop what you’re doing, Mia. It’s the only way. You’ve become a leader of this feminist pack, and if they see you drop your quest to be a part of the football team, they’ll drop out too. Where you go, they’ll follow.”
The beautiful brunette gasps and then shakes her head.
“No way,” she says in a low voice. “I’m not going to drop out. I worked hard to get where I am, and I completely believe in gender equality. This is a movement and I’m not backing off just because it’s inconvenient.”
I shoot her an even look.
“I understand, sweetheart. In fact, everyone here at the table believes in gender equality, and we’re all ardent feminists as well. But sometimes, lofty aspirations don’t exactly match up with reality. We have Regionals next week. We need to be pumped and ready, not to mention crazy-focused on winning. So if you make an announcement that you’re giving up your dreams of playing football, then our problems will be solved and we’ll leave it at that. We’ll even take you to Level Two if you want, no sweat. It’s fine. We enjoy our time with you, Mia. We just can’t handle a circus right now.”
She stares at all of us.
“You really want me to publicly announce that I’m giving up my dream of playing men’s football?”
I sigh with frustration.
“Do you hear yourself? How can that even be a dream? It’s men’s football, honey. I’m not saying that there’s no place for you, I’m just saying that this isn’t the right time.”
Mia looks thoughtful and bites her lip. I almost think she’s going to say yes, but then she shakes her head.
“I can’t,” she says finally. “I’m very sorry, but I just can’t. This is something that I believe in, and I can’t just drop it because you tell me to.”
Frank lets out a hoarse bark then.
“We’re not telling you, Mia, we’re begging you to drop the issue. For the sake of the team. These distractions are no good, they come at a bad time, and nothing beneficial is going to happen because of all this. Don’t you get it? Take one for the team, Mia.”
But the curvy girl is stubborn and she’s determined to get her way.
“Again, I can’t,” she says in a low voice. “Football is a sport that’s excluded women from the very beginning, and I can’t give up this opportunity to make a difference. I know you don’t understand because you’re men, but I really believe in what I’m doing.”
I stare at her.
“Yes, but there’s such a thing as consequences, and right now, your actions are having severe consequences.”
She slams her textbook shut.
“No, I’m sorry, Howard. It is what it is.”
Trace’s expression grows ominous then.
“Then we won’t continue to Level Two.”
Mia looks distraught but also unsurprised.
“Do you really mean it? I had a good time with you guys. I never expected it to feel so amazing, much less with five men.”
Trace’s expression is inscrutable.
“I really mean it, Mia,” he says. “The first rule of teamwork is that sometimes you have to sacrifice your individual needs for the overall benefit of the team, and in this case, it doesn’t seem like you understand. You’re not willing to go there, and as a result, there’s no sense in even moving to Level Two.”
“So you won’t sponsor me,” she says in a slow voice.
Trace looks thoughtful for a moment.
“We’re not going to say that we’re not sponsoring you because I’m not even sure that people know that it’s the five of us specifically who are sponsoring you. We’re just not going to say anything for the time being.”
The curvy brunette looks confused.
“So what am I supposed to do?” asks Mia. “Look for a different five guys to bring me to Level Two?”
The thought makes my heart drop and my stomach churn. I don’t want the pretty brunette to take up with some of my other teammates. For one, she’s too good for them. Mia is all high-minded morals, not to mention sass, spunk, and fire. Some of my teammates are little more than stumps of wood, without even two brain cells to rub together.
But I also don’t want her to seek other sponsors because this whole situation has me utterly confused. We were supposed to have fun with Mia. We were supposed to stroke her curves and make her moan, and it would be a win-win situation. She would make the team, and come onto the field to play for thirty seconds at best. That way, she’d have her victory, and we’d also have ours.
Yet, the situation has gone completely haywire. Instead of smiles, laughs, and moans, instead Mia looks disappointed and unhappy. The five of us aren’t any better. We look fucking depressed, not to mention anxious and hopeless. But that’s what happens when you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place: sometimes no one wins, as difficult as that is to accept. So what’s going to happen to our beautiful girl now? Even more, what’s going to happen to the team if she continues on this dangerous path?
7
Mia
I slam the screen door closed after entering the house and throw my backpack on the floor. I’m pissed and it shows. Storm clouds gather on my brow and I huff over to the fridge to grab a carton of orange juice.
My brother wanders into the kitchen as I’m studying the glass of orange liquid, feeling more and more angry.
“All good with you?” he asks in a casual voice.
I whirl on him.
“I’ll have you know that your teammates are complete jerk-offs and assholes,” I rage, my face going red. “They are totally against women’s rights and they’ve been scheming about how to keep me off the team no matter what.”
Mark pulls back a little, with a wary look.
“Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious!” I rage. “I hate those idiots! They need to get with the fact that we live in the twenty-first century now. Women are not their subordinates. We are your equals, and we should get to play on the football team just like anyone else!”
Mark blows some air out and raises a hand. I look at my twin brother. We’re definitely similar physically, with the same dark, curly hair, swarthy complexions and brown eyes, but that’s where the resemblance ends. Whereas I’ve always been a firecracker, Mark is more of a peacemaker. He’s always been the one trying to placate me, even way back when we were in kindergar
ten and little Johnny Mattson stole my dolls.
“Mia, please,” my brother says tiredly. “Can you just calm down for a moment?”
“No I cannot calm down!” I storm. “This is an insult to womankind as a whole! I can’t believe I’m witnessing this, and right in our little town of Ridgewood too! I thought we were liberal freethinkers, but who knew that the patriarchy would show its ugly face right here, in our place of birth!”
Mark looks even more tired then, slight lines forming around his mouth.
“Mia, you’re always so dramatic,” he begins.
“Dramatic!” I practically screech. “You don’t even know what dramatic is, Mark Pierce. I’ll show you dramatic when the Razorbacks get to the Finals, and I’m watching from the stands. God knows what I’m going to do with all the State officials sitting right there.”
That sets Mark in motion. He sits up straight and fixes me with a look from those serious brown eyes.
“Seriously Mia, don’t cause a scene at Finals okay? That’s so unnecessary, and it’s one of the things about you that drives me crazy. You’re never afraid to cause a commotion, and all eyes always have to be on you. Can’t you just let it rest for a little?”
“No,” I say flatly. “All those officials are going to be there, not to mention people from the administration, and hopefully more than a few college scouts. I hope they realize how awful Ridgewood High is, and how they’re looking to box out women.”
Mark looks even more weary then.
“No one is looking to box you out, Mia. How could they? You’re not going to succumb. You’re going into the ring for a bare-knuckled fight with the patriarchy, and you’re the only woman who relishes it. Frankly, it’s probably better just to let you on the team, given the trouble this has caused.”
That stops me for a moment.
“You really think I’m a bare-knuckled fighter?” I asked. “Am I that fierce?”
“You’re not just fierce, you’re annoying,” my brother says while shooting me a disgusted look. “You know, they used to have bare-knuckled boxing bouts in New York City bars at the turn of the century, and sometimes even women would fight. I bet had you been born in that age, you would have been one of them. Pulling up your skirts and heading into the ring to get bloodied. And for what? So that you can play for thirty seconds during one football game?”
I shoot him an annoyed look.
“Yes. It’s the principle of the thing, and not the actual playing time that I’m worried about.”
Mark huffs another exasperated sigh as he pours himself some orange juice.
“Yeah, but seriously Mia, how much pain are you willing to cause just to get your way? Anne told me about the tryouts, and how she wants to tryout now too.”
I shoot him a look.
“Oh, so that’s why you’re so pissed at me, right? You’ve always liked Anne.”
My twin doesn’t even deny it. His cheeks go a faint pink and I swear, his hand even trembles a little.
“Yeah, I like Anne. So what? She’s nice and a good girl. Nothing like the troublemaker you are.”
I roll my eyes.
“Well, if Anne wants to try out, then why aren’t you supporting her?”
He sighs.
“Because of my teammates, silly! Having you and Anne, as well as fifty other girls underfoot, is no good going into Regionals. It’s a pain in the ass and you need to check yourself, Mia. You’re just causing more trouble, and it’s ridiculous.”
“Or what?” I challenge. “Or you’re going to tell Mom and Dad?”
He sighs.
“No, I’m not going to tell Mom and Dad, nor would it matter because they’re going to find out anyways. This issue is growing larger by the moment and drawing a lot of unwanted attention to our family. Can you please give it up?”
I pause for a moment, standing stock still in the kitchen. My twin and I have always been close. We were born mere minutes apart, and Mark is actually my older brother by just a hair. We always tease each other that that’s why he’s responsible and sober, whereas you can get whiplash from watching me flit from one issue to another.
But Mark has always been my confidant. He’s my sibling, and he’s always supported me through thick and thin, even if he thought I was crazy. That’s why it cuts to the core that he’s asking me to give up my dream now.
“Wait, so you’re telling me to drop the issue?” I ask slowly.
My brother has the grace to hang his head.
“Sort of. Yes. I don’t know, Mia. I’m just so tired sometimes. I mean, we’re eighteen. Life should be about football games, parties, and dating the opposite sex. Instead, you’ve decided to tackle Title IX gender parity issues, and you’re making a huge deal about it, as usual. I just want a little peace and quiet.”
I get it because I’ve been an activist since I was twelve. The first time I made a poster board was for the prevention of cruelty to animals, and my commitment to various causes has only grown through the years. Just last week, I participated in the Climate Change protests led by Greta Thunberg, the Swedish teenager who launched a movement. I sincerely believe in her words, and am genuinely terrified of global warming and what that means for our future. As a result, I feel justified in my activism. If I don’t speak up, then who will?
But I also understand my brother’s reluctance to support me. After all, I’ve been dragging Mark to protest after protest for years now. He’s helped me picket, driven more than a few carpools, and defended me when I was viciously attacked by naysayers. I should be grateful to my twin.
But why isn’t he backing me now? I mean, I kind of get it. The Razorbacks are headed into the most important part of the season shortly. Yet, Mark’s never been one to back away from a hot topic just because of intimidation or peer pressure. It must be something else.
“It’s Anne, isn’t it?” I ask. “You don’t want her to find five guys to sponsor her. But things are different with Annie, don’t you see? Mark, you could be one of the five. She just needs to find four others.”
He nods wearily.
“You’re right, but I don’t want Anne noodling about trying to find four, or even one other man to back her bid. Anne’s not you, Mia. You’re able to withstand nasty words being hurled at you; you’re able to hold steady like a rock in the middle of a storm. But that’s not what it’s like for Anne. Anne is sensitive and she talks a big game sometimes, but she’s not cut out for this kind of thing.”
I squint at him.
“Wait, are you dating Anne now?”
Mark has never been super popular with women because he’s cute, but he’s only five six. Plus, my twin’s not exactly the most alpha of men. He tends to let women run over him sometimes, although I think it’s because he’s too nice, and not because he’s weak.
He huffs some air from his mouth, and then nods.
“I’m taking her out on Friday,” he acknowledges. “It’s going to be our first date.”
With that, I throw myself into his arms, giving my twin a big hug.
“Oh my god, I’m so excited for you! And this is your first date, like ever, right?”
My brother goes beet red.
“No, I went on that date with Michelle Cannon last year,” he says in a stiff voice. “It didn’t go well, but it was still a date.”
I shoot him a wry look.
“Trust me, Mark. It was not a date because Michelle’s mom was with you the entire time. Didn’t she pay for your meals when the three of you were at MacBurger?”
My brother goes scarlet all the way to his hairline.
“In fact, Mrs. Cannon was nice enough to pay for us, thank you very much. But she sat at a different table at MacBurger, so Michelle and I had some time on our own.”
I throw my arms around his shoulders again in a joyful hug.
“Mark, you’re so adorable but naive sometimes,” I say. “That was not a date. But it doesn’t matter! I’m so excited that you’re going on your first date this weekend
with Anne.”
He bites his lip, summoning his courage.
“And that’s part of the reason why I want you to stop with this whole tryouts thing, Mia. I want Anne relaxed and ready for our date. I want her happy and bubbly, and not obsessed with joining the football team. Can you do that for me, Mia? Please. I hardly ever ask anything of you, you know that. In fact, our entire lives, I’ve been the one who’s always there for you. Just give me this, okay? Make my life a little easier for once.”
I bite my lip, thinking. The fact is, nothing Trace, Troy, Howard, Frank or George said made me feel differently about my quest to bring gender parity to the football team. But my brother touches my heart in a way that they can’t. I’ve watched Mark go through his awkward phase, and I know how difficult it must be to be a senior in high school while never having dated a girl before. My guess is that he’s still a virgin, and probably very likely to continue being one for a long while.
With that, I nod slowly.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” asks Mark.
I sigh.
“Okay, I’ll give up on this football tryouts thing. It’s for you, Mark, because you’re my brother and I want you to be happy. This date with Anne is big, and I want what’s best for you too.”
For the first time during our entire conversation, Mark’s face lights up with a bright smile.
“Thanks little sis,” he says fondly while mussing my brown curls. “I appreciate it.”
I reach right back and muss his tousled hair as well.
“No sweat,” I say. “But I’m not forgetting this. I want you to be happy, and to have a good date, but I also want to get my point across with the football team. Activism is in these days, don’t you know?”
My twin rolls his eyes, but he’s still over the moon.
“It’s always the ‘in’ thing for you, Mia.”
“I know,” I burble before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Now tell me what you’re going to do with Anne on Friday.”
My Brother's Teammates Page 4
