The One Percent

by Tara Wimble

  Bella grins a little but there’s a catch to it that Jacque’s been seeing in the last few days. It’d been lifted for a while after Coach Jayce subbed her in for the last fifteen minutes of their win over the Netherlands. It hadn’t been long enough for her to get a goal in, the elusive first, but enough for Jacque to bet on her getting a little more time in the final tomorrow night against England.

  “You’re nervous.” She states.

  Bella does that thing that Jacque has grown to love. Scoffing in protest while her eyes scrunch up in an obvious lie. “Nervous? Why would I be nervous?”

  Jacque kicks her feet gently in the water. It’ll be her first final in a tournament since coming back. “I’m nervous.” It’s a different set of nerves to Bella’s, who is waiting on her first goal and a potential first start for the team.

  “Maybe like, five percent out of a hundred.” Bella instantly shifts.

  “Just five?” Jacque teases.

  Bella rolls up her sweatpants until they bunch around her knees and puts her feet as well. “Fuck! Cold!”

  Jacque chuckles quietly until Bella splashes her and a stop is put to that straight away. “Because I will throw you in.” Jacque warns. “And then you’ll be soaked going back to sleep.”

  Bella stupidly wiggles her eyebrows and Jacque almost shoves her in anyway.

  “So what are you even worried about?”

  “Who says I’m worried?”

  “You decided to come down here after unlocking the door to the balcony.” Jacque points out. “When you should be asleep.”

  “I don’t know.” Bella admits. “I mean, the worst is over right?”

  “Worst?” Jacque mocks.

  Bella ignores her. “I played for Canada. Like actually put the jersey on and played.”

  “Forgot the lyrics to our national anthem.” Jacque adds. “Is that it? Is this like lingering guilt over you playing for us and not the US?”

  She gets a confused grimace in return. “I don’t even know anymore. Like, I’ve let it go. I’ve moved on but- It’s never what you think it’s gonna be.”

  Bella’s the dreamer in this duo. She’s the one still reaching. Jacque’s the comeback kid in a sense. She had the dream and lived it and then fell. This is her return but this is Bella’s debut. “Tomorrow you’re not even gonna think about this, y’know? Because you’re gonna get on that field, get the lyrics right, get the tempo right and we’re gonna win this thing.”

  “Simple as.” Bella grips the edge of the pool.

  “Simple as.” Jacque repeats. “Don’t doubt yourself now just because you’re wearing a different jersey. The problems you had for the US had nothing to do with your performance.”

  Bella laughs. “Yeah, just my big mouth.” She touches her nose almost protectively as she says it.

  “We’ve all got big mouths here. You fit right in.” Jacque sways until she bumps Bella’s shoulder. “Big hearts too.”

  “I knew that was coming.” Bella grins down at her lap. “You’re so fucking cheesy.”

  It’s got her smiling again though and that’s all that matters. Really they shouldn’t be out here. Jacque’s insomnia had less to do with nerves and more to do with Sadie snoring loudly. It’s something she’d forgotten about since they hadn’t been at camp together in so long.

  But they have an early start tomorrow that neither of them can miss. “Come on. I’ll walk you back up to your room.”

  Bella doesn’t protest. Jacque is helped up by a strong arm and she wraps her sweater back around her shoulders. They get back into the lobby, where the reception is empty now, and walk towards the elevator.

  “I wish we were home.”

  “At the apartment?” Jacque asks. She pushes the button with more force than she intended. “Why?”

  Bella leans back against the wall of the lift. “As much as I love sharing a room with Oliv, she’s not as fun as you.”

  Jacque fusses until Bella laughs and she half jokingly suggests; “Want me to sneak in with you and make her freak out in the morning?”

  Bella pauses. “Oh man, yeah.”

  *

  Oliv freaks the fuck out.

  *

  England (3 - 2) Canada

  They go into the final match on a high, the tournament hasn’t been a pushover by any means but they’ve slowly built confidence throughout and there’s a resounding tone in the locker room that this cup could be theirs to lose.

  It starts off well enough, Whembs puts them ahead 1-0 right out of the gate with a beautiful piece of individual skill and when she runs from goal, arms outstretched like a plane, it gives everyone else on the field a boost.

  Right before halftime Bella puts herself on the score sheet for the first time off of a low cross knocked into the box by Carla, it’s 2-0 before they even head into the locker room and the mood is peaked.

  It’s all downhill from there.

  The match wears on, tackles become rougher, legs grow heavier, and they start making some simple mistakes.

  They get scored on once ten minutes after the half and the kernel of doubt is placed. Jill Scott equalizes against them in the seventieth minute and they lose all of that mental confidence they’d come into the match with.

  The eighty-fifth minute comes and Kara commits a brainless foul right outside of the eighteen yard box.

  In the end it’s Kelly Smith who breaks their hearts with a curled free kick that skirts just past Imogen’s outstretched fingers and into the back of the net.

  England celebrates heavily and no amount of pushing back up into their offensive third can save them from this colossal fuck up.

  In the end it’s the English who cut them off at the knees, it’s come to be sort of a running theme with the team, so close and yet so far away from the ultimate glory. Placing second in the competition isn’t awful but they didn’t come all of the way here to be not bad.

  It’s a disappointment and coach makes it clear that she thinks they could have done better than a 3-2 score line, honestly, doing anything less than winning was going to be a letdown.

  But imploding in the way that they did wears on everyone’s mind, second can’t feel like anything less than a consolation when they could already taste the win in their mouths after the first forty-five.

  Showers are taken quickly and everyone redresses in a business-like manner, there’s no playful teasing, no levity going around. Just silence.

  The bus is equally glum and when they arrive back at the hotel they all file silently back to their respective rooms, content to sulk for the rest of the night.

  Kathryn has other plans.

  There’s a loud pounding on Jacque’s door and she almost lets it go, pleased with laying on her stomach on the bed, staring into space. But the pounding gets louder and it clicks that this isn’t actually her house so if someone’s knocking on the door they probably need to see her.

  So she opens it and is greeted with the sight of Kathryn in the tiniest dress that could still be considered clothing and a bright smile. She peeks her head in and sees Oliv laid out in a similar manner to how Jacque was before she got up. “Come on, bitches. Get dressed, we’re going out!”

  “No.” Jacque responds bluntly, the sentiment is echoed by Oliv, and then she tries to close the door on her but Kathryn’s stronger than she looks and manages to keep it open.

  “That wasn’t an offer, it’s an order.” She says, glaring now that she’s had to fight. “Get off your asses, put on something hot, and get ready to get your drink on.”

  Jacque looks like she’s about to protest again so Kathryn cuts in. “You should see what your wife has on. All I have to say is damn girl, good work on that one.”

  That catches Jacque’s attention and she sighs, if Bella’s going out really it would look the best to everyone else if she at least made an effort. So she turns back to Oliv. “I guess we’re going out?”

  There’s a loud groan but she turns Kathryn away with the assurance they’ll b
e down in the lobby to meet up in no less than twenty minutes.

  Five of those minutes go towards actually getting Oliv out of bed, the next ten or so go to rummaging around in her stuff to try and find the things she needs.

  There’s a simple black button down that she knows she looks hot in, that she packed for this type of occasion, she throws that on along with one of her favorite necklaces. She puts on a pair of tight dark blue skinny jeans, black boots, and matching black hipster glasses. Checking her hair in the mirror she turns towards Oliv who’s about at the same stage as her.

  “Ready?”

  Oliv sweeps her hand over her body. “Sorry Jacque, hate to say it, but I’m definitely out sexing you tonight.”

  Jacque shrugs, smirking. “I already have a woman, what’s your excuse?”

  She dodges the shoe that gets thrown at her, grabs her stuff off the table and leaves the room, laughing the entire trip to the elevator about Oliv’s face after that comment. She presses the down button and waits.

  The ding comes quickly, almost like the elevator was waiting on her floor. The door opens and her mouth drops.

  “Bella.” Jacque picks her jaw up off of the metaphorical floor. She stumbles on her words. “What are you doing up here?”

  “Came to kick your slow ass into gear, I know you can take an hour if I let you.”

  Jacque ducks her head, desperately trying not to stare at how cute, no it’s definitely way past cute, how sexy Bella looks in that red dress. “Very funny, I’m not that bad.”

  “Sure you’re not.” Bella replies, poking at Jacque’s side. The elevator doors attempt to close and she sticks her foot in to stop it. “You coming or what?”

  Jacque chokes on nothing. Wrong choice of words. “Yeah, uh, right behind you.”

  Kathryn has managed to convince the majority of the team to venture out for the night. All but Carla and Niav but when that’s brought up everyone snickers and decides to get going.

  Jacque doesn’t even make it out of the taxi before she’s certain that tonight is going to be a task and a half for her. Bella rushes up front to catch Kathryn’s arm, whispering something that she can’t hear, and all she can see is dark red. She pinches the bridge between her eyes, just pushing her glasses up, before Oliv comes behind her and slaps her ass. “Get in there.”

  Thank God she can finally drink.

  Apparently she’s not the only one with that idea and it’s a comical sight to see how most all of her teammates walk directly from the entrance to crowd around the bar. Someone calls for shots and immediately ruins Jacque’s plan to disappear with her drink and maybe lose track of her team, and her wife, in favor of some local company.

  Imogen hands them out like candy and Jacque stares at the neon colored liquid like it’s the source of her frustration before Bella is winking at her from along the bar and downing the shot in one go. Jacque swallows but the knot in her throat only tightens when she looks at Bella and it’s when she forces the shot down that she starts to wonder if this is suddenly such a great idea.

  But the after effects of the shot burn in the most pleasant of ways and it’s like there’s a disconnect between her brain and her body when she calls for the next two rounds, ignoring a few quirked eyebrows of her teammates, many of which subtly call off their shots leaving Jacque to do some of the heavy lifting.

  When there’s really nobody left that she came out with to do shots with she finally orders a beer and gets caught up in the atmosphere, hanging out at the bar and people watching. The music is loud and it has a good beat to it so she’s content to just hang out and try to avoid the trouble that is being near her straight wife in that dress.

  But trouble seems to have a way of walking right up to her and introducing itself. And trouble brought friends.

  Jacque stayed over by the bar with the intention of sulking a little, getting drunk, and forgetting the stupid result of the match. But suddenly she’s holding court for a couple of gorgeous women and the idea that she can maybe sneak away and fuck one of them doesn’t seem so far out of reach.

  It’s exhilarating to feel desired and wanted and to not have to remember in the back of her mind that it’s all a joke, that she’s playing along with some sort of script.

  The flirting progresses quickly and Jacque doesn’t even remember when being crowded by the women turned into them basically sitting her lap, whispering in her ear when they wanted to talk instead of the customary club yell.

  There’s a bite on her earlobe and she tightens her arm around the back of the woman leaning against her right side. This only pushes things further. Jacque looks up, there’s no one she knows looking to see what she’s doing, hell, not even anyone in the vicinity so she feels safe. Safe enough to let this escalate and see where it goes.

  The ear turns into the jaw, kissing down the neck, and somehow the first button of her shirt is undone. The neck turns into this woman, whose name she still doesn’t know nor care to know, straddling her body. And then it’s just them, the friend long since convinced that she wasn’t getting anywhere tonight.

  The first button turns into the next two and Jacque wants to take this woman somewhere, behind the club if she has to, and find out what’s underneath that slip of a dress.

  She whispers it in the woman’s ear but she doesn’t get a chance to hear the response because there’s a tap on her shoulder and a familiar face fills her vision.

  Fuck, she’s in so much trouble.

  That’s probably what any normal spouse would think when their wife practically sweeps through the scene, disengaging Jacque from the girl on her lap and sarcastically excusing Jacque on her behalf.

  A booth opens up in the back corner of the room and without hesitation Bella drags her there, pushing her onto the seat and sliding in next to her.

  “Well that was cosy.” Bella remarks. Jacque can tell she’s unimpressed even before she opens her mouth. “What the hell were you doing?”

  “I wasn’t doing anything.” Jacque protests, still trying to shake the haze of alcohol and a very near miss.

  “Not yet, you weren’t.” Bella snarks. “I can only imagine what I would have walked up on if I’d been a minute later.” She pauses and shakes her head. “What am I even talking about? A minute later you wouldn’t have been there.”

  Jacque takes a deep breath, trying to establish some solid ground in this conversation because as of yet it feels like Bella has all of the cards. “We have a deal, I can fuck whoever I want and you get your soccer.”

  Bella flinches like she’s been hit. “Nice Jacque. I won’t actually get my soccer if you ‘cheat on me’ and end our marriage. Use your head.”

  The sting of Bella putting ‘cheat on me’ in air quotations reverberates throughout Jacque and reminds her exactly why she has to seek out other people. She has needs. Needs that won’t ever been fulfilled within this arrangement. And at camp, with everybody watching, she’s about reached her brink.

  “I wasn’t going to stay there.” Jacque tries to reason. “We were about to sneak off, no one would have known.” She pauses emboldened by that thought. “Let me up.”

  “No.” Bella answers firmly, crossing her arms.

  “Bella.” Jacque’s tone is final, already using her arms to push up and out, Bella is either going to let her leave or she’s going to make a spectacle of herself climbing out over her.

  Bella sees this and puts a hand on her thigh, it’s then that Jacque looks up and sees a few of their friends staring over at them, entranced by what must look like a fight. Bella looks over her shoulder and sees the same thing.

  “Fuck.” Bella curses and the alcohol flowing through her only heightens her anger. “We’re so screwed and all because you can’t keep it in your pants for one night.”

  Jacque deflates at that statement, her righteous anger suddenly not feeling so justified. The defeated look on Bella’s face is enough to get Jacque to try and meet somewhere in the middle.

  She drops her arm
s and picks up her beer from the table.

  “Just ignore them.” Jacque mumbles. Her thumb is covering the top of her bottle and she presses it down harder when Bella continues to sway into her personal space. “They’ll get bored of us when the music gets louder.”

  Jacque shifts in her seat, missing the weight of someone sitting on her lap.

  “The thing is-” Bella raises her voice to be heard. “They’re not supposed to get bored. They’re supposed to be indifferent. You said that they had to believe this.”

  Jacque flushes when Bella points behind her to the girl that was just pulling Jacque’s top buttons open. “Flirting with the locals is a quick fire way to blow this thing up.”

  Jacque almost speeds that process up by jumping backwards when Bella hooks her finger under the collar of her shirt. She’s not too sure how Bella got so close to her, or why she chose to draw the eyes of their friends in her direction either. If she’d stayed away then they wouldn’t have noticed Jacque slipping away, she’s sure of that. “What are you doing?”

  Bella isn’t as drunk as she is. That much is clear in the tinge of pink on her cheeks. However, she’s acting as if she’s more drunk than she is. “We’ve been avoiding each other all night.”

  “I haven’t been avoiding you.” Jacque defends. “I’ve been drowning my sorrows.”

  Bella pulls at the buttons easier than the nameless girl did. “You’ve been hovering too close to other women-”

  Jacque snorts and she distances herself from Bella just to take a drink. When she’s put the bottle down, Bella closes it again. “What? So this is you playing jealous for our audience?”

  Bella grins. “Hey, you told me to sell it remember?”

  Jacque nods along, feeling dizzy. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. But they’re not gonna panic if we’re not attached at the hip like everyone else. Even Oliv and Sadie are wandering.”

  Bella blanks. “That’s because they’re taking turns buying Kathryn drinks. That was before they asked me where you were.”