LT - Soccer camp

It’s Thursday.

It’s been a crazy week, with one especially insane event that traumatized a lot of people because there were so many wardrobe malfunctions… but in the end, it’s still all about the game on Friday.

Today is your team’s last day to get ready to take on Red Team. Everyone else is worried about Chun, but Lotte’s the one who’s on your mind. Last night, out in the woods, Sam commented on how intense you were. She didn’t seem to mind, bent over with her hands against a tree, looking back at you over her sweaty shoulder.

But that told you that everyone knows how tense you are.

You practice hard down on the fields. Red Team and Yellow Team are doing the same, but there’s no real spying that can be done. The three main fields are swarming with coaches, FUTA workers, and camera people. It’s sunny and busy, and you just wish that you were in a different state of mind. This is peak FUTA. Your team is doing well, and you are in good form. You could be enjoying this.

And you will enjoy it, you tell yourself. You just have to get through this game tomorrow. You have to do whatever it takes to win. Lotte has backed off, for real this time. You’ve barely even seen her this week, and there’s been no sign of her making any moves toward Pink Team at all. You’ve asked around. She’s not doing the things that she did before.

But there is a zero percent chance that tomorrow she won’t use her history with you as a weapon. You don’t know exactly how she’ll do it, but she will. There is no doubt in your mind. Maybe she’ll flash you or say something on the field. Or just brutally slide tackle you and eat a red card to get you out of the game. She has it in her.

You’re scared. What if you messed up somehow? In your interactions with Lotte? What if you somehow made things worse than they needed to be? And then she messes you up tomorrow, and your team loses because of it? Because of your temper, or because of your horniness? Losing happens, but you don’t want it to be your fault.

Tiff sees your anxiety spiraling and tells you to get a grip. You’re trying.

But only a few minutes later, something is happening on the neighboring field. Tiff blows her whistle, and you all go in for water. You catch an icy bottle from Sam and push your way past a couple of camera workers to see what’s going on. The medical girls are out on the field, putting someone on a stretcher. You hate to see it, but injuries happen.

Then you notice that whoever it is, she has blonde hair.

“Is that Lotte?” you ask, and Lara appears beside you. She doesn’t look very sympathetic.

“Well,” she says, nudging you with her elbow as Lotte is carried off the field. “Guess that problem sorted itself out.”

At dinner, you have no appetite. You slip away from the others and talk to Tiff.

“They sent out an email about it,” she says distractedly. She’s in her cabin, watching replays from Red Team’s last game on her laptop. She’ll keep planning like this right up until the match. “I don’t think it’s that serious, but it’s a hot day and Lotte must’ve overdone it. She’ll be OK. They’ll let her out of the infirmary in the morning. She’ll play.”

So she’s only in the infirmary for one night.

You stop on the way back, bathed in the orange sunset, letting the others go to the cabin while you stand at the place where all the paths that wind through the camp meet. The infirmary is attached to the main building, but there’s nothing going on over there. A few FUTA people are packing up camera gear, and others are setting up for tomorrow.

You can see Red Team, heading for their own cabin. Nobody’s breaking off or hanging back. None of them want to go check on Lotte?

In the infirmary, you find an attractive, older woman with dark skin and a face tattoo and an eyepatch, washing her hands.

“Can I check on her?” you ask.

“You’re on the wrong team,” the woman replies without even looking at you.

“I’m not here to sabotage her team and hurt her. I just want to visit.”

The woman turns and looks at you for a long moment. You have a feeling she can see right through you.

She raises one warning finger. “No drama.”

“Promise,” you say tiredly. Can’t she see how worn out you are?

“Go ahead.”

You go in and take a seat beside Lotte’s bed. She’s sitting there glumly, staring at her phone. She looks up when you come in, and there’s no reaction at all. She’s never been easy to read.

“I will play tomorrow,” she says preemptively.

“I hope so,” you reply. That’s not totally true, but it’s the right thing to say. “I hope you feel better.”

“I’m fine,” she says shortly. “I have not bothered you.”

“I know.”

She looks at you for a second, then turns and looks at the window. The sunset is almost over, but it’s still pretty out there. She doesn’t say anything else, and it gets awkward fast. You change positions a few times, leaning on your elbow, crossing your legs.

“OK, look,” you snap, and she turns to you, looking tense. It’s like she’s just barely keeping her temper. “Look, I have a penis.” Lotte knows that. It’s been inside her. “I spent my whole life scared to death of what would happen if anyone found out. And I felt that way even though I had all these reasons not to. My mom always told me it was a cool thing to have, my sister is obsessed with it. I think she thinks I haven’t noticed. My best friend even found out about it and didn’t care. In fact, she just wanted to touch it. And then I got here, and…” You wave your hand. “Surprise, everybody loves penises. I was miserable, Lotte. Do you understand?”

She cocks her head.

“No,” she replies.

You groan. “Lotte, you can be so sure of something and still be wrong. You are a good player. You are beautiful,” you add, gesturing at her. “You don’t need to do anything else or be anything else. Just like I didn’t have to be afraid of my penis. You need to understand that. You’re trying to push everybody else down to compensate for flaws that probably don’t even exist. I’m sure you have your reasons, but…” You shrug. “Never mind.”

She watches you for a second, then goes back to looking out the window.

It takes you a second to realize something is wrong. Is she crying? No. But she’s close to it. Shit. You glance at the door, worrying about that doctor out there. You weren’t supposed to come in here and upset her. You shouldn’t have come.

You sigh and get ready to apologize and leave, but she speaks up first without looking at you.

“Would you ever,” she begins, but trails off.

You pause with your hands on the arms of the chair, ready to get up. “What?”

She hesitates. “Would you ever teach me to do that kick?” she asks.

~ Route End ~

Riley and Lotte return in WHOLE LOTTE LOVE