For the Win

by Sara Rider

  He nodded.

  “How many hat tricks has Lainey Lukas scored while playing for the US national team?”

  The entire stadium seemed to spin around him as his focus zeroed in on Lainey, heartbeat thudding against his chest. But there was no reason for him to be nervous. He knew this. “Lainey Lukas is one of the most impressive players in this country’s history, with nine hat tricks at the international level.”

  The crowd went eerily silent. He searched Lainey’s face for a reaction. Despite the tight line of her mouth, her eyes softened like she was finally seeing through the bullshit of these last few days. Seeing him again.

  “That is . . .” Grace said dramatically, “incorrect!”

  “What?” Gabe shouted.

  “No, he’s right,” Lainey said.

  Grace shrugged her shoulders. “The card says eight, and the card is never wrong.”

  “But—” Lainey’s protest was cut short by the celebratory theme music blasting through the stadium sound system.

  Gabe stood frozen with shock watching Jaime and Alyssa hug an equally staggered Lainey.

  “I can’t believe we just lost,” Aiden said.

  Gabe nodded, but the loss wasn’t what made his stomach feel like it was being crushed by an invisible weight. It was not knowing if he’d gotten through to Lainey at all. This was the first time he’d seen her since the party, and he couldn’t pass up the chance to explain himself. He strode across the stage toward her.

  “Congratulations, ladies,” he said, voice rough and low. Jaime and Alyssa immediately released her from their grip and backed off slowly. “Lainey—”

  She shook her head. “Not now.”

  “When?”

  “Later.” She spun around and jogged offstage. He took after her down the stadium tunnel and didn’t catch up to her until she was steps from the exit.

  “I won’t let you walk away from us, Lainey. We’re too good together.”

  She froze with her hand on the glass door. He was close enough to touch her, and the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss away her defenses was overwhelming, but he knew he needed to let her come to him first.

  Her body stiffened and she let out a shaky breath. For a moment, he thought she’d turn around. But she didn’t. She pushed the door open and walked out without another word.

  TWO DAYS AFTER THE trivia contest, Gabe answered the knock at his door in ratty sweats and with three-day-old stubble on his chin, not caring if it was a reporter prepared to hound him about the disastrous turn of events in the Battle of the Sexes.

  “Dad?” he said, startled when the face registered.

  His father lifted a six-pack of Coors Light and proceeded toward the loungers in front of his flat-screen. They were seventeen minutes into the third Premier League match of the day, and already Chelsea was up 2–0 over Liverpool. Gabe and his dad settled into their seats in stoic silence. It wasn’t unusual for his dad to show up unannounced to catch a game whenever his mama decided it was time to polish the silver. After the first half, though, Gabe realized his dad wasn’t here to escape his mama’s quirks. His dad’s thick mustache twitched erratically, his telltale sign of wanting to say something. It took another ten minutes before Gabe finally heard what it was.

  “Son, some things come easy in life. They flow toward you. Like beer.” His dad took a swig, as if to prove his point. “Nice and smooth. Other things . . . they come at you like a flying rock. Hard, fast, difficult to catch.”

  Growing up, these cryptic analogies were ever present whenever Gabe and Tessa needed to learn a life lesson. Most of the time they made no sense, but once in a while there were a few accessible glimmers of their dad’s brilliance. Not yet knowing where this was going, Gabe tilted back his bottle and let the amber liquid flow. “I’ll gladly choose the beer every time.”

  “Yes. You always do.”

  “What?” Gabe said. Before he knew it, his dad had leaned over and dumped a glug of pale ale over Gabe’s left hand, leaving a sticky mess. He contemplated wiping himself off with one of the dish towels in the kitchen but decided it was futile. He’d just lost his woman, his good luck charm, and his lead in the competition and spent the last two days in the same clothes. A little beer stain would only add to the overall ambience of depressed, heartbroken loser he was cultivating.

  “Beer flows away from you as easily as it comes, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. A rock, though, is rough and very difficult to catch when thrown your way,” his dad continued while staring intently at the TV, oblivious to the absurdity of each word coming out of his mouth. “But if you do catch one, you either use the rough edges as a grip to hold on tight, or you let it drop because it hurts too much.”

  Gabe paused for a few beats, trying to decipher his dad’s coded message. “Are you saying my girlfriend is a rock?”

  His dad grumbled something in Czech.

  “Are you saying she’s not a rock?”

  “I’m saying she is not your girlfriend, is she? When things got difficult, you chose the easy path. You let her go without much of a fight. You are a good man, son. You make me and your mother very proud. But you have had much come to you easily. Money, fame, soccer. The hard things, though, they are important, too. Eventually, you will have to learn that you can’t have everything you want in life.”

  “We’re talking about my career and the woman I love.”

  “What else?”

  “Huh?”

  His dad shrugged. “You like many things. How will you keep them all? At some point you run out of hands to hold on to all the things you want to keep.”

  “I don’t want to have to choose.”

  “So don’t. Fight for it all, son.”

  “Now you’re saying I can have it all?” He pressed the cold butt of his beer bottle against his temple to ward off a headache.

  “No, you can’t. I’m saying you have to try to have as many wonderful things in life as possible. That is what your mother and I always wanted for you. But at some point you will be forced to make a sacrifice for something you love.”

  He sighed. “I don’t want to.”

  “And that is why you are sitting around in wet pants instead of talking to your girlfriend.”

  “How am I supposed to fix this? Lainey won’t even speak to me, and even if I apologize, there’s still the fact she stole my rabbit’s foot. She’s the reason I’m going to be stuck practicing on Cricket Field. She was right. It’s not meant to be between us. Don’t you understand? I know you and Ma are happy, but isn’t there any little part of you that regrets not having a soccer career?”

  “Did I ever tell you the truth about how your mother and I fell in love?”

  “Yeah, yeah. You fell in love because of the spell. And when you found out about it, you decided nothing mattered more than love.”

  “We both know that’s not the truth,” his dad said, picking at the label on his bottle.

  “What do you mean?” The story of his parents’ relationship had been an immutable truth in their family legacy. Even if he and Tessa had their doubts, his parents had never wavered from the tale.

  “I was in love with your mother long before Irina ever cast that spell. I remembered her from junior high. She was a few years younger than me, but she had the prettiest long blond hair I’d ever seen. I never had the guts to talk to her until I was a soccer star, but by then I had moved away. The spell, well, it did not change how I felt about her, and the hex did not, either.”

  Gabe picked at the edge of the label curling from the condensation. “Does Ma know this?”

  His dad shook his head, with a sly smile. “Do you think in thirty-five years of marriage that woman has ever let me get a contrary word in?”

  Gabe settled back into his seat, fixing his eyes on the television while he gathered his thoughts. A part of him always k
new the superstitions were nonsense, and that they gained their power by the strength of the belief poured into them. But Gabe had also spent the entire thirty-four years of his life steeped in these bizarre beliefs. Letting go was harder than it sounded.

  “By the way, your mother has already phoned your girlfriend to apologize. She knows she was wrong. Your mother, she is an impulsive woman but a good one. A rock.”

  Gabe leaned forward and rubbed a hand over his short, messy hair. “Shit. What am I supposed to do now?”

  “You start by helping your family accomplish an important task.”

  “What’s that?”

  Though it was a rare sight, in moments like this there was no denying that Gabe got his mischievous grin from his dad.

  “NO!” GABE BELLOWED WITH as much intimidation and force as he’d ever tried to muster in his entire life. “Something else. Anything but that.”

  Tessa put her hands on her hips and groaned. She turned around to inspect herself in the long mirror. “It’s not that bad.”

  Oh, it was that bad. The dress she had on was black and short and way too adult for a fourteen-year-old girl. It made her look almost ten years older. “What about something pink and frilly? Something more fun?” Something more innocent.

  “You sound like Mom and Dad!” With a pout on her face, she stomped back into the dressing room.

  His parents were on the extreme overprotective side—as in turtlenecks and long sleeves to a dance. Maybe even a snowsuit, though at least they recognized this flaw within themselves. That was why Gabe’s dad had asked him to take Tessa prom-dress shopping. Yet, as he watched his sister parade around the Macy’s fitting room in a series of elegant dresses meant for women in their twenties and thirties, he was beginning to appreciate his parents’ wisdom.

  A few moments later, Tessa reemerged in a purple gown with some kind of shiny, lacy overlay thing. It was the first dress she’d tried on what seemed like hours ago, and in comparison with all that had followed, Gabe grudgingly admitted it wasn’t so bad after all.

  Tessa beamed with joy when Gabe agreed to buy the dress, giving him a sweet hug that made her seem fourteen again. He paid for the dress, throwing in a pair of earrings she’d been eyeing while standing in line. And a big black shawl that he randomly grabbed from a rack on his way to the counter because it looked like it would add the right amount of modesty to the outfit. He ignored Tessa’s sounds of disgust as the store clerk ran it through and added it to the tissue-stuffed box.

  When they got into the car and pulled out of the crowded mall parking lot, Gabe realized Tessa was grinning mischievously.

  “You just played me, didn’t you? That’s why you tried on all those ridiculous dresses?”

  “Obviously. The purple dress doesn’t seem so bad in comparison to the others, huh?”

  “That Eric kid taking you to the dance better watch out. I bet he has no idea what he’s getting into with a smart girl like you.”

  The lighthearted energy between them seemed to suction right out of the car. Tessa shifted back into her seat and crossed her arms.

  “I’m not going with Eric anymore.”

  “What happened?” He clenched the steering wheel and began plotting out his revenge on the little shit if he broke Tessa’s heart.

  “He was just using me so that I’d join the varsity team. Natalie made him ask me out so that he could convince me to play because the team sucks without me. When I realized he really liked Natalie, I dumped him. He can go to the prom with her for all I care.”

  “And you’re still going to the dance?” Gabe asked, heart swelling with pride at his sister’s integrity.

  “I’m going with Emma and Megan. I don’t need a boy to take me to the dance.”

  Smart and independent, he thought. Just like Lainey.

  Gabe gripped the steering wheel tighter, realizing he was about to ask the most awkward question of his life. “Um, Tessa? Can I ask you for relationship advice?”

  Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Seriously?”

  He cleared his voice and took a left turn a little too sharply. “After Lainey, you’re the strongest woman I know. So tell me how I can fix things with her.”

  “Have you tried apologizing for what Ma said at your party?”

  “Yeah, but she won’t talk to me.”

  “What about your rabbit’s foot?”

  “Stealing my lucky charm doesn’t count as a conversation.” He sounded like a whiny little punk. Lainey had entered his life like a hurricane, leaving his head and heart in tatters on her way out.

  Tessa fixed her piercing glare on him. He pretended to be too focused on the road to notice. Eventually she exhaled her frustration. “Do I have to spell everything out?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you sure she stole it? Did you check your pocket?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Your other pocket,” Tessa said, sounding exasperated.

  Gabe started to respond, but hesitated. He reached into his left coat pocket. Sure enough, he pulled out the rabbit’s foot. The battered paper clip holding it together had been replaced by a proper key chain emblazoned with the Surge logo. Accompanying it was another note. Gabe read it out loud: “Did you really think I’d steal it?”

  “Told ya.”

  “How’d you know?” Gabe asked, awestruck by the incomprehensible way women’s minds worked.

  “She wouldn’t steal something that I gave you. And she didn’t do it because she hates you. She did it so she could get your attention. It’s a lot easier to prank someone than to admit someone hurt you. I would’ve done the same thing.” As an afterthought, she added, “Except I actually do hate Eric.”

  “Then help me, Tessa. Help me win her back,” he pleaded. There was still a faint shred of hope that things could work out.

  “If she won’t talk to you, you have to make her. For someone as competitive as Lainey, that prank was her way of communicating with you. You need to show her that you’re taking the Battle of the Sexes competition just as seriously. That’s how you’ll get her attention. Show her that you respect her.”

  “By publicly humiliating her and her teammates?”

  “If another team in the ASL punked you, would you sit around crying about it? Or would you get revenge?”

  His face broke into a huge grin. Could winning Lainey back be as simple as playing to win? Doing what he did best while giving his teammates the leadership they deserved? He might not know how Lainey’s mind worked, but he did know how to be a tough competitor when the stakes were raised. It almost sounded too easy. “Tessa, you’re a genius.”

  Her smile was just as wide. “I know.”

  LAINEY TWISTED THE SHOWER tap to blast as hot as possible without scalding her skin and tried to ignore her teammates’ post-practice chatter. She never understood why some women felt communal showers were an appropriate place to socialize, especially considering they were all naked. Lainey didn’t have many hang-ups about her body, but the stark white walls and glaring fluorescent lights created an ambience that screamed bleak interrogation room, not cozy day spa. Besides, if she was going to hang out in the buff with someone, she damn well expected an orgasm.

  Just like that, the memories of her and Gabe in their most intimate moments inundated her soul like a torrent of acid rain. She leaned under the spray and realized the zesty taste of salt on her lips was from tears, not sweat. Dammit! Lainey Lukas was not a crier.

  She needed to shift her focus to happy thoughts. Lainey envisioned the inaugural AWSL championship game in her head, the Falcons versus the LA Angels. With the Falcons winning, of course. The LA Angels were talented, but they couldn’t quite manage to best the Falcons on their own turf in their friendly match last week. The Falcons were destined to be champions—she could feel it in her blood. This time, Lainey would be there to ce
lebrate with her team and experience the sweet glory of victory. She grabbed the bar of soap and lathered away the crusty layer of sweat on her face, letting her mind create the complete picture of victory. The fresh scent of grass and mud on her skin, her breath abrading the raw walls of her lungs, the cheering from the crowd as she holds the trophy. But her fantasy kept getting one major detail wrong. No matter how much she tried to rein in her mind, she couldn’t help but picture Gabe on the sidelines celebrating with her.

  Her daydreaming was disrupted by a shrill, desperate cry.

  She grabbed her towel and ran to the main changing room, followed by the rest of her teammates. Alyssa stood in the middle of the room, wrapped in white terry cloth, with a shell-shocked expression on her face. Her black hair was still dripping wet, creating puddles on the floor.

  “What’s wrong?” Jaime asked, trying futilely to look over Lainey’s shoulder.

  “Where are my clothes?” Alyssa growled, looking at no one in particular. “Who took them? I have a date with that cute guy from the Thunder tonight. I need those jeans!”

  “Did you check your locker?” Lynn suggested with a smirk, clearly getting a kick out of her teammate’s apparent mental breakdown.

  “How about I check yours?” Alyssa stomped over to Lynn’s cubby and peeked in. “Not there. And neither are yours.”

  Panic ensued as the women all raced to their lockers, only to find their clothes missing. Their practice uniforms had already been taken away to be laundered. Lainey’s underwear, shoes, and purse all remained, and were seemingly untouched. The only actual piece of clothing in their lockers was an extra-large Surge jersey. She pulled it out of her locker to look at the name on the back.

  GABE’S#1FAN.

  “I guess this is revenge,” Lainey said by way of explanation.

  “Two battles left,” Alyssa said, creepily calm. “We have to kick their asses no matter what it takes. Are you sure tomorrow’s fund-raiser is going to work?”