pinky promise - jamie tartt

‟ TULIPÁN „

˗ˏˋ 'ˎ˗

Sitting on the bus after the horrible friendly match against Holland, Tate just wanted to get the hell out of Amsterdam.

"Hey, fellas—and Tater Tot, can't ever forget about you,"

She smiled weakly, her mood so heavily influenced by the boys around her that even Ted's words weren't enough to break her out of her funk. Standing at the front of the bus, he got the attention of the whole, pouting, team.

"I'm about to say three words no coach ever says unless he dang well means it."

"You're all shit?" Colin suggested, and Tate twisted in her seat to smother her laugh in Jamie's shoulder.

"No,"

"Knowledge is power?"

"True, but no."

"Live, laugh, love?"

"No," Ted made a buzzer noise, rejecting Sam's idea. "The correct answer is: no curfew tonight."

The cheering was instant, the whole bus coming alive as they thought of all the possibilities for the evening.

"That's right. I don't wanna see your pretty faces until we get back on this bus at what time, Coach?"

"Ten a.m., baby!"

"Alright, let's be careful out there. Hill Street Blues." Ted finished, and Tate shot him a grateful smile, even as Sam reached out to shake her shoulder excitedly.

"No curfew in Amsterdam, boys!" Zoreaux shouted, just as hyped as the rest of the team.

"Should we all take naps so we can stay up later?" Dani suggested, so very giddy about what they were about to get into.

"No!" Isaac shouted before Tate even had the chance to tell Dani that it would only probably make him more tired. "We push through, and we all meet in the lobby five o'clock sharp."

"Tonight is gonna be mad, you know!" Jamie shouted, standing slightly in his seat, and Tate grinned up at him. With all his extra trainings with Roy, they hadn't had the chance to go out together in what felt like weeks.

"Not for you, Tartt!" Roy shouted from the back of the bus, and Tate flinched at the sudden shouting. Silence fell over the bus, all twisting back to face their coach.

"Eh?"

"Let's go!" Roy stood, walking down the aisle of the bus.

"Roy," Tate frowned, the lack of his honorary uncle title enough to have him pausing, if only for a second. "Nicer, please."

"You're not on fucking holiday from training." And though he clenched his jaw tightly, his voice wasn't quite so harsh when he spoke, heeding her worries.

"What about me stuff?" Jamie stammered, incredulous. Roy wasted no time in grabbing Jamie's bag, and instead of putting it in Tate's outstretched hand, he walked down the aisle of the bus and shoved it in Will's grasp.

"Throw this away, please."

"At least he said please," Tate mumbled, squeezing Jamie's hand as he slowly stood up from his seat. He kissed her quickly as Roy got off the bus with a shout of no fucking affection!, forcing Jamie to follow, shoving his teammate's shoulders and begrudgingly wishing them a good time. He stopped when he got to Will, pointing seriously at his bag.

"Don't actually throw that away, yeah?"

And then Jamie was off the bus, shouting to Roy and acting as if he wasn't in a suddenly sour mood.