Soccer training, but Mars seems distant

After spending three hours cooped up in the chemistry lab, you roll up to training ready to kick the shit out of a soccer ball. The team warms up by dribbling a lap around the pitch, and then forms up in a semicircle around Daphne.

“We’re practicing first touches today,” the Japanese captain of the team announces in her characteristic no-nonsense voice. “It doesn’t matter how well you can pass or shoot if you can’t get the ball under control first. That’s why we’re going to practice first touches today. Partner up. I want you to pass the ball between each other and practice trapping the ball with each foot. Then, you’ll shift to one touch volleys and settling the ball out of the air, and you’ll finish off with three touch passing and receiving. Got it? Go!”

Mars is standing at the other end of the semicircle, and you think about drilling with her. But when you try to catch her eye, she just happens to look away. Was that intentional?

“Hey, Mars!” you call out, but she ignores you, turning to strike up a conversation with Jack instead. A couple seconds later, and she still hasn’t so much as looked at you.

Intentional then. Frustrated, you’re about to head over and ask her what’s up when you feel a hand touch your arm. It’s Val, a concerned half-smile on her face.

“Partner up?” she asks.

You respond by booting your ball over to her, which she stops with her right foot.

“I was on my way to talk to Mars,” you say, as she taps the ball around.

She raises an eyebrow and passes the ball back to you, saying: “I know. Why do you think I stopped you?”

You stare at her, taking a second to figure out what she might be talking about.

“This is about the Rachel and Griffin thing, right?” you ask, lobbing the ball up towards Val. “She’s still mad at me?”

“Obviously,” Val says, striking the ball in the air. “She was damn upset about it last night. Wouldn’t stop texting me about it.”

You grunt as you control the ball with your chest and pass it back low. You knew that Mars was disgruntled after you questioned her, but just how bad her reaction was...

“Did she tell you everything?” you eventually ask.

“Enough to know that you were being a bit of a dick to her,” Val laughs, juggling the ball with her feet. Her smile looks oddly acidic. “Have you got a different side of the story to tell?”

She sends the ball sailing over to you and gives you a questioning look.

“No. She’s basically right,” you admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think Mars would take it so badly but… I probably shouldn’t have questioned her. Certainly, not in the way that I did.”

Val pauses, the look on her face transforming into something more contemplative for once.

“Now that’s interesting,” she says, catching the ball that you flick at her. “Mars didn’t think you’d feel that way about it.” She dribbles around with the ball for a moment, and then glances at you, casually saying: “You know what you should do? Apologise to her. Kiss and make up.”

“She didn’t seem like she wanted to talk to me at all,” you respond, trying your best to look unfazed at Val’s last sentence. “I don’t want this to become a big thing, but if I seem like I’m trying really hard to get her attention...”

“I’ll speak to her,” Val smiles, giving you a confident nod.

Sure enough, when Daphne calls in everyone to move on to the next set of drills, you see Val pulling Mars aside. The two of them talk quietly, occasionally looking your way, but it’s impossible to judge what’s going on. Val’s usual smirk betrays nothing, while Mars seems to be deliberately keeping a serious mien, leaving you to guess at what’s really going on in the minds of the two girls.

You don’t get to find out for the rest of practice, as Mars seems set on ignoring you. She drills on the other side of the pitch with Keegan, and then with Val after that. In the mini-match that you play afterwards, there’s isn’t much of a chance to talk either, with Daphne pressing the team hard to execute on the tactics that she’s drawn up. It’s only when you come out of the locker room, changed back into your regular attire, that you finally catch Mars waiting by the bleachers.

“Val said you had a couple things you wanted to tell me,” she says in a guarded voice.

She folds her hands over her chest, awaiting your reply. Her brown hair glistens in the dying light of the day, damp from her quick shower, the bead of moisture remaining on her cheek something that could be mistaken for a tear. Even without make-up on, you’re taken by her beauty—the arch of her cheeks, her piercing dark blue irises, even the confidence in her posture as she confronts you, her back tall and straight. You wouldn’t want to lose your friendship with her, as well as the prospect for more, over something like this.

“I only had one thing to say,” you speak slowly, carefully. “An apology. For yesterday.”

“Out with it then,” Mars sighs, ignoring the looks from the other players on the team leaving the pitch.

“This might take some time to do,” you say. “How about I tell it to you while treating you to dinner?”

For the first time tonight, a hint of a smile finally crosses Mars’ face, and she nods.

“That’s kind of you,” she says, and gestures for you to lead the way.

You pick the Italian place by campus for dinner, figuring that the smaller booths by the side will provide for a bit more privacy. That’s how you end up sitting face to face with Mars, the wavering candle and two plates of creamy pasta between you creating a strangely date-like atmosphere.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” you say, after taking a bite out of your food. “What you told me should have been enough… no, sorry, was enough for the ‘full story.’ I had no business to keep trying to play detective when you already told me all there was to know.” You pause, looking at Mars anxiously, but her face remains impassive. Are you getting through to her? “There was no reason for me to doubt you,” you continue, “yet I did. That was bad. And so I guess… sorry again?”

The corners of Mars’ mouth lift up as you struggle to find those inarticulate final words. She chews for a couple seconds, and then dabs at the corner of her cheek with a napkin, wiping off the bit of Alfredo there, but says nothing more. You take that as an invitation to keep speaking, hoping that you’re not digging yourself into a deeper hole.

“I honestly didn’t even really mean to doubt you,” you say. “I thought your story was right, but I picked my words poorly, and I guess I wanted to hear Rachel and Griffin’s side of things too, but overall… yeah. I should have handled that conversation better. Sorry.”

She gives you a curious look, her expression seeming to soften.

“Okay. I can accept that apology,” she says, between bites of her food. “But is there anything else you want to apologise for?”

“What? Something else?” you blurt out, scrambling to think of how else you might have wronged her. “Was it… trying to get your attention during training? Or did something else happen? I’m sorry, I don’t know what it could be… but that probably makes it all the worse...”

“I’m just messing with you,” Mars laughs. “That first apology was all that I was looking for. I figured you deserved to squirm a little for what you did.”

You chuckle, relieved at this turn of events, barely feeling embarrassed by Mars pulling one over you.

“Yep, deserved,” you say, echoing her sentiment.

Mars pauses again, weighing some words in her mind. She sighs and then pushes her pasta to the side of her plate, looking up at you.

“I guess you already know that I reacted pretty badly to what you said yesterday,” she says. “Val was telling me earlier that I overreacted, and truth be told… she might be right?””

The admission surprises you, and it must show, because Mars chuckles a bit.

“I was caught up in the moment yesterday, it brought up some bad memories. There was a time in high school when people thought that… well, long story short, there was this whole thing where the seniors in the grade above thought I was homewrecking some popular couple in their grade, and they gave me so much shit for it… name-calling, party-blacklists, even student government bullshit...” She pauses, looking to you for affirmation.

“That sucks ass. High school makes people go through a lot of shitty stuff,” you say, giving her a sympathetic pat on the hand. “And I can see why this was sensitive for you. Really sorry about that.”

“Well, yeah, I just got this really bad feeling that all of that was going to happen again here in college, you know?” Mars says, looking off to the distance. “But I know that’s crazy. There’s no way it would happen again, the way it did last time. Thanks for apologising. It helps, knowing that your intentions were in the right place.”

“It was a mistake, and I won’t make it again,” you say solemnly. “I’ll take care of the rest of this Rachel and Griffin thing myself. There’s no need for you to get involved in it.”

“I know you said that already yesterday, but thanks,” Mars says, sounding immensely relieved. “If you really, really need my word to make sure they don’t kill each other or something, I can step in, but...” She shakes her head. “Wouldn’t want it to come to that.”

“I’ll do my best,” you say.

“Good,” she nods, and then, seemingly set on changing the topic: “So, what’d you think of the super league that was announced the other day?”

The two of you finish the rest of the meal talking soccer, and an hour later, you leave the restaurant with a hefty bill and a lighter heart.

Credit to PhoenixAuthor for helping out with this chapter!

Mars +15