pinky promise - jamie tartt

‟ HERE, TOGETHER „

˗ˏˋ 'ˎ˗

Tate hated being back in the same building as Rupert Mannion, but she couldn't help but feel a little smug at the recent news of his latest divorce. 

"You'll kill it tonight," Tate assured each and every one of the boys in the locker room, pressing kisses to their cheeks as tokens of good luck before the West Ham match as they examined the massive avocado that Zava had sent them. 

"Babe, look at this thing!" Jamie called out, sounding a little impressed by what Zava had managed to grow, though she knew he would never admit it. 

"Very cool, Jamie." Tate nodded at him from across the locker room, her arm hooked around Sam's as she pumped him up for the start of the match. Though, near where she stood, Roy wheeled in a television and placed it in front of the whiteboard Beard was writing on. 

"Van Damme, you look like a superhero." Isaac shouted, and it was then that Tate realized that Zoreaux was wearing a new mask. Solid black, instead of the clear plastic. The rest of the locker room started cheering, and Tate rolled her eyes at their playfulness, trying so fucking hard to not think about the fact that this would be the last match they all played together. 

"Alright, fellas, and little lady," Ted called as he left his office and into the locker room. "Hey, let's listen up. Nice mask, Van Damme."

"Oh, thanks, Coach, but actually from now on you can call me Zorro."

"You got it, Zoreaux." 

"No, no, no. It's pronounced Zorro."

"'Cause of the mask," Tate clarified, and Ted let out an oooh. 

"Thank you, Tater Tot, for being so helpful as always." Ted grinned at her, and she grinned back, squeezing Sam's arm tight to try and think of anything but Ted's upcoming departure. "Well, fellas, if you're looking for a pep talk from me, you're in trouble. 'Cause I'm like Michael Flately at 11:59 p.m. on St. Patrick's Day. I'm tapped out. Luckily though, I asked Coach Beard here to make y'all a little something to help inspire and motivate y'all for our final match together, alright? Coach, let her rip." 

"Gather up!" Beard shouted, and Tate followed the boys as they crowded around the screen, securing herself a front row spot directly in front of Jamie and next to Sam, throat a little tight before the video even played. 

A LOOK BACK, was written on the screen, and Jamie wrapped his arms around Tate's shoulders, tugging her slightly back against his front. She curved her hands around his forearms, her thumbs subconsciously brushing against his skin as the video played. 

It started with a team photo from the previous season, Tate tacked onto the side next to Will, who was giving a thumbs up that made the team chuckle.

FROM YOUR COACHES, led to a transition of Ted, Nate, Beard, and Roy giving Jamie the be a prick signal from the first match they had used it. The laughter grew louder, and Tate could feel Jamie's chest vibrating against her back. 

She pressed a kiss to his arm below her chin as a montage of game footage started, Sam and Dani scoring amazing goals, celebrations after the ball hit the back of the net, the boys after they had gotten relegated when Jamie was back at Man City. Bittersweet moments of the team's history, all clips that were already going to make her sob. 

But then Beard had edited in a clip of Jamie and Roy's on-pitch shoving match, and the entire team started swatting at Jamie's shoulders in reprimand and playful teasing. Jamie took it all, an embarrassed smile on his face, and Tate suddenly found it a little hard to breathe as she thought about just how far her Jamie had come.