Training (Jenlisa Adaptation)

Lisa

 I spit out my mouthguard and yank the straps of my shin pads, dropping my stick onto the turf.

"Manobal!" Vi, our team captain, claps me on the back. "I don't want to see any more high sticks. You almost amputated Mina. Whatever shit's got you distracted, leave it in the changing rooms." I nod, and she raises her voice, addressing the whole team. "Cool off, guys. Get an early night. I'll see you tomorrow at seven."

As the other girls start chattering and jogging off the pitch, I pull out my water bottle and squirt it directly into my mouth. Cold autumn air freezes the sweat sticking my shirt to my back, but it's not enough to cool me down. I know exactly what's distracting me.

Jennie was incredible last night. Incredible. I can still see the way she looked when she came, head tilted back, pink and trembling and fluttering against my mouth. I swear I can still taste her.

I've wanted my hands on her since the moment I saw her on the very first day of uni, but I never thought I'd feel this strongly about her after having sex with her once.

I sling my gym bag over my shoulder and head off the pitch, thinking hard. I need to be so, so careful with my next move. I am in serious danger of catching real feelings. I remember Jennie's hand, sliding up my chest, the first shy move she made to touch me, and my thighs clench. I had to stop her; I couldn't cope. I'm sure, if I let her touch me, the last barriers I have will break down, and I'll just fall head-over-heels for her. Which is the worst possible thing I could do. Even now, all I want to do is kiss her again. I want to hold her. I want to curl myself up around her, all small and soft and warm, and just be with her, all the time. I'm playing with fire.

When I get back home, all gross and covered in sweat, Jennie's in the lounge. She's fallen asleep on the battered leather sofa, cuddled up in a pink blanket and surrounded by highlighted papers. She looks so cute that I just stand and stare for a few seconds.

She stirs. "You're such a creep," she mumbles, not opening her eyes.

"Right?" She lifts her arms to me, making grabby hands. "I'm all sweaty," I protest, coming closer. She shakes her head and clutches my hand, yanking me onto the sofa next to her.

"You smell good when you're sweaty," she mutters, putting her face in the curve of my neck. She's in silky pyjama shorts, and her smooth thigh presses up against my bare leg.

I take a deep breath. "Sore?"

She looks at me through narrowed eyes. "Shut up."

"It's a legitimate question!"

"I'm good. Fine. Thank you. Just trying to get my reading done before I go home this weekend." She yawns, curling up like a kitten. "I keep fallin' asleep."

"Looking forward to your birthday?"

She stretches, then nods. "Mm. It'll be nice seeing my mum. She'll probably just want to talk about what I'm doing after graduation, though. And that's always depressing."

"I don't know what I'm going to do when we're not living together."

"Me either," she says quietly, snugging a bit closer. She watches me play with her fingers silently for a few minutes. "Lisa?"

"Hmm?"

"How come you never date?" I glance across at her, and she shrugs, embarrassed. "I mean, I've seen you shag so many girls. But you never have a girlfriend. Why?"

"Ah, shagging is all I'm good for, really." I grin at her. "And I am excellent at it."

Her cheeks flush. "That's not true!"

"I'm not excellent at it? Baby! That's not what it looked like last night!" I nudge her with my hip. "I'm just joking. I don't really have a great track record with relationships."

She bats her eyes at me. "Some pretty girl break your heart?"

"In a word, yes." I go silent. She waits for about five seconds, then starts kicking me. "Jesus, okay, fine. Back when I was seventeen, I met this girl online. Sofia. Most gorgeous girl I'd ever seen. I was at the point where I'd worked out that I was gay, but I was still pretty scared about it. But she was twenty-seven, and she was so confident, she didn't give a shit about what anyone thought about her. She'd kiss me in public without even thinking."

Jennie's frowning. "Hang on. You dated a twenty-seven-year-old when you were seventeen?"

"It's not like that," I wave her off. "Anyway, I was head-over-heels for her, but she could never work out what she wanted, you know? She had this on-again-off-again boyfriend, and she could never decide if she wanted me or him. One day, she'd be all over me, the next, she'd have her tongue down his throat. I was completely in love with her. Like, I was convinced one day we'd settle down together. But in retrospect, she really just used me for sex. He was her real relationship; I was just for messing around with."

"Gross."

"Right?" I rub strands of her hair between my fingers. I remember having sex with Sofia. It was always amazing—like we were setting each other on fire. But afterwards, when she'd rolled out of bed and left me staring at the ceiling, I'd feel empty and sad and dirty. Like a used tissue. I shudder. "I was always her last resort. I knew that, but I liked her so much, I didn't care. I'd come running like a puppy, every time she snapped her fingers. It was years until I managed to cut her off."

She looks confused. "Why, though? You could have any woman you wanted."

I pull a face. "It's like--when I first realised I was a lesbian, I didn't know any gay people. All my friends had boyfriends. Obviously, this was before gay marriage was legalised. There were barely any gay people on TV. I couldn't picture a future with another woman. I figured, since I couldn't marry a guy, I'd never have a relationship." Jennie puts her chin on my shoulder. Her breath brushes my cheek. "And then she came along, and she wanted me, and it felt like the sun coming out, you know? I guess I thought she was my only shot at being happy."

Jennie picks up her mug of tea and takes a deep swig. "So you've given up on romance completely?"

"Not completely. I think it just made me realise that I don't actually like being in love very much, you know? Yeah, it feels really good, but it also feels really fucking bad. And it makes me stupid, and desperate, and weak. I think staying in that relationship was probably one of the lowest points in my life." A shiver crawls down my spine, and she covers me with the blanket, too. "Yeah, I'd much rather stick to casual sex. It's what I'm good at, it's what people want from me, and I am more than happy to give it to them. I'm in control this way." I stretch my legs out under the blanket. "I mean, c'mon. Who'd actually want to date this?" I wave over my sweat-sticky body and ratty old gym clothes.

She stares at me through the steam curling up from her mug. "Lots of people! Lisa, that's messed up. It sounds like she really manipulated you. Being in a relationship isn't supposed to make you feel stupid. You were a minor, and so vulnerable."

She looks so worried, bless her. I reach across and rub he small mole on the eyelid above her left eye.. "Don't worry about me, Nini. I am completely fine. I just—know now to be more careful. Not let people fuck around my feelings, you know?" She just keeps looking at me with her cat eyes. I swallow. "I mean, never say never. If I fell in love with a girl, and for some reason, she actually wanted me back—sure, I'd date her."

She tucks the blanket close around my neck. "I think you're meant to start the relationship first, then fall in love."

I pet the back of her head. "Oh, my sweet little bisexual, didn't you know? Lesbians do it the other way round."