Faulty Trust || Katie McCabe

24

"It was shit! We played shit! Just barely got by on penalties!" Leah was furious after the Tottenham match. I mean, so was I; nothing was clicking for us on the field, and it was agonising to watch from the stands. Both of us shifting uncomfortably in our seats, feeling completely helpless, which only made Leah's mood worse.

Leah, who I watched the match with, was on the verge of a total meltdown. Though everyone knew her anger wasn't entirely directed at her teammates. She was just passionate, and she wanted nothing more than to be on that pitch to play against our North London rivals. Leah's frustration had just about bubbled over during the penalty shootout, but I didn't miss the sigh of relief she let out when we slotted the last penalty into the back of the net. Her heart was in the right place, but she just might be the worst person to try and watch a match with.

"Leah," I spoke softly, grabbing her wrist with my good hand. The glare she gave me would be frightening to anyone else, but I knew her well enough. "It's okay; we still won the match. You'll be on the pitch next month, and then you can take out all this frustration you've been building up, okay? You'll get to play in all of next year's derbies; don't you worry."

Her clouded eyes cleared just a tad, and when the team came out, Wally included, Leah's mood improved greatly. I couldn't help but chuckle at her complete 180 in mood, but I didn't have a place to say anything. I was the same way.

Another pair of blue eyes found mine as I waited patiently for the rest of the team to walk out. Katie's face gave nothing away, but her eyes lit up just a bit. Enough to make the heat rise up through my body. I gave her a short hug when she was finally in front of me, whispering subtle assurance that her performance was exceptional.

"Let's get home; I want to watch a movie and do nothing else." Katie quipped, elbowing me in the ribs, which earned her a death glare and a 'fuck you' in German. All of which simply made her grin even more as we walked to the bus.

Though as soon as we made it to the bus and the lights went out, Katie's head slumped against my shoulder. She was awfully quiet, almost to the point I thought she was asleep. Only her irregular breaths and the action of her playing with the few rings I had on my fingers told me she was awake.

She didn't speak more than a few words the rest of the night. I tried not to let the worry creep in as she held me in her embrace, but I couldn't help myself. The rational side of my brain told me she was just tired, but the irrational side told me she was upset at something I had done. Which totally was not plausible because the longer I racked my brain, the quicker I realised I hadn't done anything wrong.

Maybe she was just tired; maybe she thought her performance was shit. I don't know.

"Stop thinking and sleep, Emy." Katie placed a kiss on my bare shoulder. Her voice hoarse from sleep, and all I could do was listen to her. Warmth took its course, spreading from the place Katie's lips had met my skin all the way to the tip of my toes. I fell asleep with her arms around me, and that thought alone was enough to silence the rest.

—

I had a love-hate relationship with recovery days. More so when recovery day was practically every day because I was injured.

Katie pulled me from my slumber as she slipped out of bed and placed a short kiss on my lips before mumbling something about a shower. I grunted and pulled the duvet tighter around me; Katie's bed was less comfy with her in it, but that wouldn't stop me from getting extra sleep.

What would stop me was the sound of my phone buzzing loudly against the nightstand. I let out a loud sigh; the only sounds filling the not-so-quiet morning were my phone and the distant sound of water running. I rolled over, collecting my phone and glancing at the number.