pinky promise - jamie tartt

‟ JUST TONIGHT „

˗ˏˋ 'ˎ˗

With all the news that Tate had been forced to absorb in the previous twenty-four hours, she was certain she couldn't handle one more shock.

Beyond Trent Crimm's article about Ted, and Trent Crimm subsequently leaving The Independent, Tate had been unfortunate enough to read about Rupert Mannion and his recent purchase of West Ham United Football Club. She tried not to think too long about the fact that he would be in the same building as her for every match they played against each other, because she could only handle one crisis at a time.

And she was more devastated by the news that Keeley was leaving Richmond to run her own PR company. That had led to more than her fair share of tears since they wouldn't be able to work in the same building and bother each other whenever they needed a break.

But she was given absolutely no time to think too long on any of it, because AFC Richmond was up for promotion.

And all they needed to do was tie Brentford.

She had stayed clear of the locker room before the match started, Nate's words still echoing unforgivingly in her mind, but as the first half played out she found it harder and harder to willingly sit in the press box and act as if she wasn't enmeshed so thoroughly within the fabric of the team.

So when the whistle blew for halftime, Brentford up two-nil, Tate grew far too antsy to sit still.

By the time she was able to make it down to the locker room, Nate's words be damned, the boys were spread across the room, pouting. The sight cracked her heart, even more so when they glanced to her only briefly before continuing their moping.

Their extended silence caused doubt to creep into her chest; maybe she was a distraction. Surely, nothing she had to say would be enough to snap them out of whatever funk they found themselves in. Turning sharply on her heel, she decided to study the whiteboard in the locker room that displayed their false nine formation that Nate had suggested for the match.

The team doesn't need you down here, making them worry about your business when they really should be focused on tomorrow's match.

Nate's words, still biting at her worries.

"Alright, fellas," Ted called as he and the rest of the coaches retreated out of their offices. "Oh, and Tater Tot. Long time no see, little lady."

She nodded at him over her shoulder, her smile tight, before turning back to face the whiteboard. The false nine worked during trainings, but something wasn't connecting during the match, and it was as if she could determine what it was if she stared at the magnetic pieces long enough.

"Coaches and I are having a little debate and wanna get y'all's take on it," Ted continued. "Should we stick with the false or switch it up?"

Tate's face pinched in confusion, which she was sure matched the looks of the rest of locker room. A glance to her left proved her correct, and the expression Jamie wore was almost enough to get the corners of her lips to curve upwards.

Almost.

Silence stretched throughout the room, no one willing to tell the coaches what they thought of their tactics. It was practically unheard of; players did what the coaches told them.

Until, Jan Maas stood from where he sat in his stall, a determined set to face.

"The tactic is sound, and we're all perfectly capable of executing it." He declared, earning hesitant nods from his teammates. "It will work."

"Hey, if Jan Maas says it, you know it's the truth, right?" Ted agreed, more nods passing through the locker room, though they stayed silent.

"I wouldn't lie to you," Jan assured his teammates, and Tate just knew she should expect some unflattering truth to come from the Dutchman. "For instance, Zoreaux, you should have saved that first goal."