ʀᴏᴏᴋɪᴇ | ᴋᴏ ✔︎

22

| Kelley |

"Why the fuck would you do that?!" Logan yells at me as she storms into my apartment, her face red with an anger that I've never seen from the Rookie.

"Let me explain." I begin. "It's not as bad as you're making it out to be."

"So it's my fault?"

"I-I didn't say that." I stutter.

"What the fuck are you saying?" Logan snaps once again, and her tone of voice begins to brew an anger within my own body.

Flashback.

"This is bullshit!" I moan to Alex as I flop down on my bed. "I hate being injured."

"Everyone does," she chuckles. My eyes instinctively narrowing despite her inability to witness the action. "You'll be back before you know it, just take some time for yourself."

"You're kidding, right?" I sigh. "It already feels like I've been out for a year." I grumble making the forward laugh before she tells me she has to go.

It's a national team camp for most of us, the States, Canada, Brazil and so on, which means that everyone I can tolerate is gone and I'm all alone. Even Logan!

I can't be mad, she's been playing really well and has earned her first competitive call up. She deserves it, and I love her too much to call her and complain about her being gone and not with me. Which is why I called Alex.

"This sucks." I continue to complain as I wobble my way to the living room to switch the TV on. I have an internal debate on whether to watch my own nation, or watch my girlfriend's debut. "I'll switch between the two."

________

Halfway through the second half and Alex and Megan put us in a comfortable lead, the other team hasn't really challenged Harris at all. I decide to switch to the Canada game, knowing we'll probably win now and that Logan was starting the game on the bench.

Ten minutes left and Logan finally gets her chance. She's brought on for Sinclair, pretty huge shoes to fill, and the captain whispers something in her ear before giving her a pat on the back and encouraging her.

"That's my job." I mutter as I look at my busted ankle. "Stupid foot."

Logan gets involved immediately, obviously the words from Sinc gave her the boost she needed. Her youthful, energetic legs give the opposition back line a wake up call, they'd clearly gotten comfortable with Sinclair's pace and style of play. However, Logan is in their faces, not giving them a moment to rest.

It doesn't take long for Logan to get the ball, dropping back to Kyle who holds up the play and waits for Logan to start her run. Kyle lofts the ball over the last line of the opposition players, right into Logan's path and the Rookie takes control of the ball with a perfect first touch. She easily outruns the last two players, leaving her one-on-one with the goalkeeper who runs at her in hopes of closing the distance, making herself appear bigger, and putting Logan off. It fails miserably, allowing Scott to deftly lob the ball over her, humiliating the 'keeper as she runs off to celebrate her first National Team goal on her debut.

I dance in my place on my couch, unable to properly stand, my arms in the air as I celebrate my amazing girfriend's amazing first goal. In my happy haze, I grab my phone and start relentlessly tweeting. A various amount of posts, boasting of my own nation's win, before swiftly moving on to Canada and how a 'beautiful girl scored a beautiful goal'.

Despite deleting the message minutes later, since Logan and I agreed to keep our relationship under wraps for now, I was already getting replies from eagle-eyed fans.

"Oh, shit."

Present.

"...And that's how it happened." I sigh out, glad I finished explaining how I messed up.

After my posts, and all the replies, the press eventually picked up on the small Twitter storm I accidently created, suddenly drilling Logan and I with questions.

"Well, thanks. A lot. Now I can't go anywhere without someone asking me if I'm your girlfriend."

"What the fuck is wrong with being my girlfriend?" I snap back, finally starting to let my anger out. "Are you ashamed? Is that what your fucking problem is?" I yell, taking account of her widening eyes and mouth open in shock.

"No."

"Oh. Very convincing."

"I said no, why can't you just accept that?!"

"Maybe because of how you're reacting!" I shout back, and now we're in a full-blown yelling match. "You never wanna go out to eat, hold hands in public. Hell, you never want to be seen with me in public!"

"That's not because I'm ashamed." She replies, her voice small and sad but it doesn't help to reduce my anger.

"Then what is it?" I ask, and hold my breath to stop my babbling. I see that she's having trouble speaking up, or finding the words, but it's clear there's something  she wants to say. The longer she remains silent, the angrier I get and the more my thoughts start to run out of control. "Is there someone else?"

"What?! No." She defiantly states.

"Then what is it?" I press her for an answer, but once again I don't get that. "If you can't even talk to me then what are we doing?"

"I-I.."

"Maybe we moved too fast, maybe this-" I motion between the two of us, "-just wasn't meant to work."

"Kel-"

"You can get out now. I'll see you on the field tomorrow, and after that I don't want to hear from you again. I can't be with someone who can't even talk to me."

I avoid looking into her beautiful eyes as she starts to tear up. I walk to the door, open it and wait for my now ex girlfriend to leave. Every bone in my body tells me to shut the damn door, stop her from leaving, hold her and kiss her, tell her I'm madly in love with her. But I don't. Despite my feelings for her, I stand by my word. If she can't talk to me, I can't be with her.

She silently, but slowly, leaves my apartment. She doesn't take her eyes away from me as I feel the stare burning in the side of my face as I continue to avoid eye contact with her, and once she's out I close the door.

I don't think my next move over, the pain too unbearable. I immediately go to the kitchen, taking the bottle of wine from the rack and retreating to my bed. No need for a glass.

"Ugh. Fuck!"