The One Percent

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The One Percent Page 2

by Tara Wimble


  “Crap.” She utters, welling up already. There’s two dark bruises under her eyes that always appear when anything happens to her nose. She’s going to have black eyes in the morning.

  They’re bad enough already for the boy behind the counter to stare at her face with such a worried look that she wonders when he’ll pass a domestic violence helpline number over to her. Bella says nothing and orders twice what she usually does in preparation for a long night.

  The walk home isn’t too long but she avoids eye contact with the other students hanging around the dorm corridor and pretends she isn’t bringing all this food back just for herself.

  Bella places it on her bed and stands over her desk to look in the mirror at her face. It’s worse under the glare of the light. Her eyes are black and will no doubt stay like that for a week or so, just as they did when she broke her nose. She touches it lightly, flinching when she does, and vows to ice it more in the morning.

  Lingering on the events, and the memories they bring back, isn’t what she wants to do. She wants to let go.

  Bella huddles around her phone, putting it on speaker, while she piles out her food. Thankfully her brother answers and then everything starts pouring out. The girl’s comments, the team, the draw, the ball to the face and her nose and how she’s not sure how long she can keep this up.

  “And now I’m crying.” She says, balling up food wrappers in her hands.

  “What’s that sound?”

  Bella takes another bite. “Taco Bell.” She sniffles.

  “Oh Bella.”

  Bella wipes her eye, wincing at the bruising. “It’s the nachos.” And the chicken burrito with sides. Plus what she’s still got left in the bag for the misery she’s going to endure tomorrow when she has to call in to see her doctor.

  “Go to sleep.” Is Jake’s advice. “Sleep and build yourself back up tomorrow. You’re stronger than all of this.”

  Same words, different person. “Yeah, starting to get harder to do that.”

  “Hang tight. Something will change.” He stresses. “Maybe this is just a sign that coaching isn’t for you.”

  Bella picks open her burrito. “Just like playing wasn’t?”

  Jake knows not to get into that debate and repeats his advice. Sleep and move on. It’s hard to swallow but Bella doesn’t want to make this into a fight so she resigns.

  Once she’s hung up, Bella looks around and frowns, surrounded by food and music blasting from her neighbors on both sides. Yeah, this is more pathetic than she intended it to be.

  *

  Her birthday comes around right at the end of their exhibition schedule and she doesn’t expect anybody, minus her family, to actually take any sort of note of it.

  So she goes through the motions at practice, an endless cycle of dropping cones and picking them back up again. Running drills. Going through the mundane reality that is the second leg of a two-a-day practice.

  Practice comes to a close and she listens to Coach Raymond break down exactly what the team needs to work on for their final match, the huddle comes to an end and they all put their hands in to say a final cheer.

  She plans on just slinking off quietly afterwards because her mom has a nice dinner at home planned and it’ll be nice to be back with people who recognize her as the person she always has been for a couple of hours.

  “Coach Ansar?” She turns and it’s the Sophomore who blasted her in the face a while back and almost broke her nose all over again. The girl, Bella remembers her name is Sammy, was sweet about it though, she’s a sweet kid in general, so Bella actually stops.

  “What’s up?” It’s then that Bella notices the flowers in one hand and the box of cupcakes in the other.

  “We found out it’s your birthday today and a couple of girls wanted to do something nice for you.” She demurely looks down at her feet. She thrusts the flowers out awkwardly. “So here’s some flowers--.”

  “Thanks.” Bella accepts them with a smile.

  “Oh and cupcakes!” She rushes out excitedly but then catches herself. “We didn’t make them, full disclosure, they’re store bought. So probably edible.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Bella’s smile widens even more, tucking the closed box of treats under her arm. “It was really nice of you guys to do this.”

  Sammy nods and smiles and pulls Bella in for a quick clumsy hug before rushing off.

  She stares down at the gifts and it’s not anything to write home about except for it totally is. This is really the first bright spot she’s had in a long time.

  And so if she walks a little lighter as she waits for her brother to pick her up for dinner, snacking on a cupcake while she waits, well, who can really blame her?

  *

  They end with Louisville. Luckily it’s a home game so Bella manages to spend the morning preparing herself for the day ahead. Her nose has healed quite well though her eyes still look a little dark for her liking. There’s no way to cover it up with make up because helping with drills and running around all day will only make it obvious how she’s tried to hide it.

  Still she keeps her head down most of the time and just gets on with her work. Bella’s looking at being asked to stay on for the actual season and there are a few courses that Coach Raymond is willing to help fund her to get qualified. They’re not sure what role she’s going to take but Bella figures that she can’t afford to be picky this early on.

  It’s getting lost in her head that almost has her tumbling onto her recently healed nose.

  “Watch out,” Bella feels herself bumped slightly as she’s stacking up the warm up cones. She almost rears up, fist first, to have a word with the senior girls she expects have pushed her before she’s suddenly steadied by a hand. “Almost went over there.”

  A familiar face isn’t unexpected in her line of work, or on the soccer field, but this one is particularly familiar to her being a forward.

  “Hey, I know you.” Bella stands and brushes a few stray blades of grass off of her legs.

  The other woman shrugs modestly. “I just have one of those faces, I guess.”

  “No.” Bella shakes her head. “You play. Centerback.”

  “Guilty.” She pauses. “Well, formerly guilty, I suppose. Jacque Liresch, it’s nice to meet you.” She holds out her hand for Bella to take.

  “Again.” Bella says as she accepts the hand.

  “Excuse me?” Jacque quirks her head in confusion.

  “I remember you now.” Bella smiles and it’s the first time in a long time that remembering her own playing career hasn’t felt like pulling teeth. “Bella Ansar. And if I remember correctly, you have one hell of a nasty tackle. Typical Canadian.”

  Jacque laughs and drops Bella’s hand, looking down. “Shoot, did I wear my maple leaf shirt again?”

  “Hilarious.” Bella hits out at Jacque’s shoulder and there’s just something about this woman that makes her feel completely at ease. “No, we played a few friendlies against each other. I play--.”

  Bella stops herself and swallows hard, still choking on the present tense. “--Sorry, I, uh, played for the US.”

  It’s like Jacque can sense the tension but they don’t have a chance to linger on it because an older man starts yelling at Jacque from the opposite sideline.

  “That’s my cue.” And for the first time Bella looks down and spots the angry looking Cardinal on Jacque’s red polo and of course she’s an assistant for the opposing team. “I’ll see you around.”

  She jogs across to the opposing sideline and Bella resumes picking up the cones she should have had up minutes ago. Coach won’t yell at her either way, mostly out of pity, but Bella doesn’t feel like making it an issue.

  The cones finally picked up Bella takes a chance to look over to the opposing sideline at Jacque. They’re about the same age, maybe Jacque’s a bit older, but they’re in the same situation.

  There has to be a story there.

  No matter what it is, at least momenta
rily, Bella doesn’t feel like such a loser.

  *

  Because she’s technically employed by the university she’s offered a discounted rate on a dorm on campus. It’s humiliating that she’s back where she started but she’s thankful that she doesn’t have to retreat home with her tail between her legs after every day and at least she has a job. Even if it’s not doing what she really wants to do.

  Illinois loses 2-0 and she walks with a slump the whole way back to her room. Half way through the game she’d had to remind herself that she was there as a strength coach, an assistant, and not a player so there was no way she’d be able to help her team out of the downward spiral.

  The only bright side she can remember is Jacque coming over at the end to shake her hand. It’d been nice, even for a second, to remember someone. It makes it easier to ignore that while she’s sitting on the sideline most of her friends are training still, playing for clubs and national teams and-

  Bella is curled up under her duvet with her face pressed into her pillow. Her nose kind of aches every now and then and she’s pretty sure that it’s bigger than it once was but it’s the reminder of the sacrifice. Willing or not, it had to be said. What’s done is done.

  Sometimes it’s just hard to be so gracious when it’s cost her almost everything.

  *

  The exhibition season ends and with all of her summer courses finished, Bella takes the university’s offer to get qualified as an assistant coach for the upcoming season. It means traveling to a conference and staying there residentially for a while as they put her through her paces but everything is paid for and Bella doesn’t think about saying no.

  That is until she gets there.

  Bella leans against the side wall and glares at the people milling around her, most of them far older than she is, and maybe she could approach them but what would they really have in common anyway. She’s 21 and the next youngest person in the room has to be no less than 30.

  Except a sort of familiar mane of curly blonde hair appears out of the crowd and Bella can’t help but sigh in relief that she’s not alone at this stupid thing she was forced slash advised to attend.

  She not so subtly makes it so she intercepts Jacque’s path.

  “Are you stalking me?” Bella asks faux incredulously.

  Jacque laughs, her face relaxing when she recognizes Bella. “You caught me.” She gestures for Bella to look around the room. “Or this is a skills clinic. And we’re coaches. ”

  “Fine. Be logical, why don’t you.” Bella walks over to the sign in table and Jacque was already headed in the same direction so they end up walking together.

  They sign in, grab their name badges, and take a couple seats towards the back of the room.

  Silence overcomes them, Bella messing around with brick breaker on her phone and Jacque doodling in the corner of her clipboard. A few minutes pass and Jacque has completed a quite accurate depiction of herself playing soccer.

  She loses one too many games and shoves her phone back into her bag in frustration.

  Jacque gives up on her drawing and leans into Bella’s space. “I heard this guy is the worst.”

  This perks Bella’s ears up. “How so?”

  “Boring as hell.”

  “Dammit.” Bella sighs. “Kill me now.”

  Jacque scoffs. “I like my freedom, thank you very much.”

  “Well, you’re no fun.”

  “I’ll do you one better.” Jacque whispers as the instructor starts talking about an introduction to proper strength and conditioning practices. “If we survive this I’ll take you out for drinks. First round’s on me.”

  The instructor glares back at their corner but Bella still manages to whisper back the affirmative.

  And judging by the way this is going already the alcohol will be more than welcome.

  *

  Bella has to take a call from her head coach when they get to the bar so she just tells Jacque to surprise her and order something she’d like. Jacque had joked that was a lot of trust to put in a stranger but Bella couldn’t really be bothered with that.

  She sits and there’s a Molson sitting in front of what she assumes to be her seat, definitely is because Jacque’s taken the other one and it seems her new friend has a sense of humor. “Really? Canadian beer?”

  Jacque laughs and takes a pull on hers. “Represent.”

  “Ha. Ha.” Bella rolls her eyes but takes a sip anyway and is pleasantly surprised by how much she likes the taste, not that she’d ever admit that out loud. “I don’t know if I can take a whole two weeks of this nonsense, whose idea was that? Residency coaching courses?”

  “Satan, I assume.” Jacque says it with a straight face and Bella can’t help but burst out laughing. “You laugh but this is my second year, it does not get better. Hence, the drinking.”

  “Point taken.”

  There’s really no ice to be broken, they fall into a very natural rhythm and the alcohol certainly doesn’t hurt anything. Jacque keeps paying so Bella keeps drinking and before she knows it they’re a few beers in stumbling drunkenly around a pool table tucked into the back corner of the bar.

  Jacque’s been kicking Bella’s ass all night but the momentum is starting to shift so Jacque’s miraculously grown far more interested in talking than taking her shots.

  Bella pulls up and leans next to Jacque against the wall, twirling her cue in her right hand. “So what’s your story?”

  “Oh you know, just a small town girl. Living in a lonely world.” Jacque pauses, barely able to contain her smirk. “The usual. How about yourself?”

  “Smooth deflection. Try again.”

  Suddenly she’s much more interested in picking the game back up and taking her next shot. Bella, however, doesn’t leave the wall so Jacque is forced to come back and see what’s up.

  She nods from Bella towards the table, indicating that it’s her shot next but Bella refuses to go. Finally, exasperated Jacque leans back against the wall.

  “It’s not a new story. I made it to the full squad, played in a World Cup, and then was told my services were no longer necessary. It’s all soccer politics.” Jacque stops for a moment, pinning Bella with an understanding look. “You know how that goes.”

  “Are you asking me or telling me?”

  “A little of both, actually.” Bella doesn’t automatically say anything so Jacque pushes forth. “I know most of it, the story that’s gone around anyway. I don’t know your side though. I’d like to hear it.”

  And if it was anybody else Bella wouldn’t be so inclined to just spill everything but they’ve been drinking and Jacque has one of those faces that you can just trust with your secrets. Twenty minutes later and they’ve somehow made it to a booth, having left their long since abandoned game, and Bella is fighting to wipe away tears.

  “Wow.” Jacque looks away to take a sip of her beer and to allow Bella a moment, for which she is incredibly grateful, to put herself back together. She turns back after a moment. “That’s a rough go of it.”

  Jacque feels like she should try to relate in some way because Bella just poured out her heart and soul and all she’d offered was a few short phrases.

  “I wasn’t, you know, shunned.” Bella looks up and she seems grateful to get a break from thinking or talking about her situation. “I just wasn’t good enough anymore. When it first happened I was devastated, you know, but I’ve had a few years to come to terms and it was probably the right decision at the time. The system wasn’t for me.”

  “And now?”

  “Now?” Jacque pauses and leans in a little closer. “There are rumors, nothing concrete or anything, that Pellerud is on his way out. I’ve been thinking about going home for a while, who knows, if any of this is true maybe I could get another shot.”

  “Lucky.” Bella sighs. “I sometimes wish I hadn’t done it. Hadn’t said what I said.”

  “Would you have been able to live with yourself?”

  “Not at a
ll.” It’s the honest answer but it doesn’t do anything to rebuke the feeling of absolute futility that washes over her and how the hell did they end up in such a heavy conversation anyway?

  The conversation stalls for a minute and Jacque takes a few liberal pulls of the beer she’d received when they moved from the tables to the booth. Suddenly a ridiculous thought crosses her mind and it’s probably the beer but it’s too hilarious not to share.

  “Have you ever considered sneaking across the border, playing for Canada?” Jacque can’t stop giggling, finding the idea ludicrous. “It seems like everybody has a little Canadian inside of them. I’m sure you have a half-Canadian somewhere in that gene pool.”

  Bella can’t help but laugh along, charmed by the fact that Jacque is actually one of the only people who understands something of what she’s going through and is willing to play this stupid stupid game of make believe just to make her feel better.

  “Nope, sorry” Bella takes a sip of her beer, still Molson, and makes sure to cringe exaggeratedly. “Still American, through and through.”

  “Not even a beloved Labrador husky in the mix?” At Bella’s confused face she elaborates. “It’s a Canadian dog.”

  “Not a single connection.” Bella shrugs. “Guess that’s just another country that won’t have me.”

  “Well,” And Jacque can’t even get out the whole thought without dissolving into giggles. “you could always marry a Canadian.”

  Bella rolls her eyes but laughs along, downing the rest of her beer in the process before responding. “Are you proposing to me?”

  It’s too ridiculous for Jacque to even reply and they both are near fall down drunk at this point so it doesn’t get any more coherent.

  The line of conversation is dropped and soon the bartender is yelling out for last call and that’s their cue to try and find a way to make it back to their respective places.

  “Shit.” Bella curses as she stumbles out of the bar, using Jacque as a balance but she’s not being very helpful in that respect. “I can’t go back to my host family like this.”

 

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