wrong colors
“You are not being serious right now!”
The high-pitched voice echoed in the room in a strangled shout. It was that specific tone between disbelief, anger, and immediate panic. The kind of tone Tobin wasn’t particularly eager to hear at that time in the morning, whatever the time was. She rolled over in her bed, groaning at the bright light coming through the windows and lifted the light blue sheets above her head. It was too early, way too early, she thought, as she plunged her head into her pillow.
Christen turned her head towards her teammate’s bed and bit her lip when she saw the sluggish movements under the covers. She had really tried to be quiet. Her footsteps against the carpeting created a comforting sound, soft but firm at the same time and it almost brought Tobin back to sleep. She could barely hear the muffled voice of Christen’s interlocutor through the phone.
“I know-" Christen stopped mid-sentence, interrupted by the person on the other end. “Kelley, I know.”
The mention of her teammate’s name spiked Tobin’s interest. She turned to face Christen and lowered the covers just under her nose. The sun burned her eyes, forcing her to close them again while she adjusted to the light. She could see Christen’s figure pacing in the room, more agitated than she used to be.
“No, I’m not mad. I’m just- I don't know what to do.”
Christen ran a hand through her hair, still a little damp. The way the sunlight hit the black curls made her look like she came from another world.
“You know this isn't an option,” Christen said. She wasn’t trying to whisper anymore and if her irritated voice gave anything away, Kelley had touched a nerve. “Well, it might sound stupid to you but I need to go.”
She briefly looked at Tobin who didn't try to pretend to be asleep. First, there was no way Christen could have missed the pair of chocolate eyes following her movements for the past minute. Second, the conversation clearly wasn't private enough for the younger woman to take the call in another room, meaning Tobin's presence didn't make her uncomfortable.
Tobin swung her legs over the mattress and sat on the edge of the bed, readjusting her shorts. She removed the elastic band holding her hair up in a messy ponytail and let it fall on her shoulders. Rubbing her eyes, she passed her hand through her hair to get rid of eventual knots. She thought about seeing her family soon, about going home. Camp was over and they had a week of break. What else could she possibly ask for?
Christen’s state of mind, however, differed from Tobin’s. She was still pacing in the room, clutching her phone so tight her knuckles went white and Tobin thought she was about to crush it. The phone’s life stopped being threatened as the conversion seemed to be coming to an end.
"Sure,” Christen sighed, her tone lighter than before and a small sad smile on her lips. “Yeah. I love you too. I’ll see you later.”
She put the phone away from her ear, threw it on her bed and ran her hand across her face. Scratching the back of her neck, she mindlessly tapped on the dresser next to her. Her nails hit the wooden surface repeatedly at an even rhythm.
Tobin waited for the noise to stop to start the conversation but it never did, so she asked, “Everything’s alright?”
Christen lifted her head up and forced a smile. She thought about lying to Tobin for an instant, about letting her friend distract her from this whole situation like she knew Tobin would. But the older woman was very well aware that it was indeed, not alright.
"No.”
“What is it?”
Christen sat on her bed, her hands tucked under her thighs and her head down. It made Tobin think about a child who had just discovered the truth about Santa Claus and who was trying to make her peace with it. Her smile disappeared when Christen stayed like this for a little too long.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” Tobin said, leaning towards the other girl before gently squeezing her knee.
“It's alright." Christen spoke louder than she intended to, startling Tobin. “I mean, it’s nothing serious. A pretty stupid situation, really.”
“I told you about the day I knocked myself out,” Tobin reminded her and Christen gave away a faint smile at Tobins's grin. “I can handle stupid.”
Christen sighed heavily and got up from the bed to grab her purse. For a few seconds, it was nothing but the sound of car keys clashing against coins and pieces of paper being crumpled unceremoniously. Finally, she pulled out what was looking like a piece of white cardboard and handed it to Tobin without any explanations. She grabbed some change and headed to the door.
“I’m going to get coffee. What do you want?”
“Christen.” She hummed in response, focused on the doorknob. “What’s this?” Tobin showed the paper, an intrigued look on her face.
“A wedding announcement?” Christen tried.
Tobin pointed at the tanned hand still on the doorknob and then at Christen’s bed. The younger woman caved in and closed the door. She went back to her previous place and sat the exact same way, casting a sheepish smile at Tobin, who leaned back on her hands.
"A girl I met at Stanford is getting married on Sunday. We used to hang out with the same group of people. I never liked her. End of the story." Christen shrugged before Tobin's imperturbable face. "And Kelley promised me we'd go together - a pinky promise, you know how much that means for her - but she had to cancel because of some family reunion."
Christen waited for a reaction that never came from her friend. When she decided she had sat in silence long enough, she made a move to stand up but Tobin lifted her hand for her to stop.
"Can I ask you something?"
Christen sighed and gestured for her to speak, "Ask away."
"Remind me why you're going to the wedding of someone you hate, again?"
"Look, you probably think it doesn't make any sense-"
"From what I've heard from your phone call, it's not just me thinking it's a terrible idea," Tobin cut her off.
"- but you don't know her like I do. If I decline the invitation and refuse to show up, she'll make it look like I'm so full of myself. Oh, you know Christen," she flashed a dazzling smile, her voice a tone too high, and insisted on every syllable, "out there acting like the superstar she believes she is. No time for old friends."
Tobin chuckled. "Why do you even care?"
"I don't." Tobin tilted her head, unconvinced. "Everything about her is just so... Her whole personality, her bright smile, her stiletto nails ready to slit your throat," Christen rambled, "it's all fake. She acts like the kindest person alive but she only waits for the right time to destroy you."
"Come on, Press. It sounds like you two were involved in a cat-fight in preschool and refused to bury the hatchet."
"If you had met this woman once in your life, you'd be convinced I'm not imagining this."
Tobin lifted her hands up, giving up.
"What are you going to do, then?"
"I have no idea."
However, Christen seemed to have quickly found one when her ID lit up Tobin's phone screen in the middle of the night, two days later. Tobin picked up after letting out an exaggerated sigh for good measure (because, really, she had to be at least a little annoyed at Press calling her at three thirty in the morning). Four minutes later, she was the one who had to cancel her plans for the weekend.
Bolts of lightning were streaking the dark sky when Tobin parked her car at the airport. There was no sign of Christen and she wondered whether or not she should brave the storm and try to find her. A UNC hoodie, a pair of navy blue shorts and bright orange sneakers were all she had on and sure, she didn't usually mind how she was dressed to pick someone up but that was definitely off limits. She stared at the digital clock of the car, counting the seconds in her head as accurately as she could but the numbers never changed at the right time and she gave up after her third attempt. The sudden knock on the window startled her.
"Oh my god," Tobin muttered, recognizing her friend's figure.
She could see Christen's grin in the night, clearly pleased with the way she had just scared her teammate. Tobin unlocked the trunk and leaned back against the headrest. She took a deep breath, her heart still beating way too fast.
Christen put her suitcase in the trunk of the car and opened the passenger door a few seconds later. She shook her umbrella outside and let it fall behind her seat. Finally, she shut the door and turned her head towards Tobin, a bright smile on her lips.
"Don't smile at me like that. I'm picking you up at the airport in the middle of the night and you think scaring me is the best way to thank me?"
Christen just laughed and squeezed Tobin's shoulder, whispering a "thank you".
"How was your flight?" Tobin inquired, starting the car.
"Boring but I slept for a while. Do you want me to drive?"
Tobin shook her head, "I'm good. Plus, you don't even know where I live."
"I do know where you live."
Christen's offended tone left a smirk on Tobin's lips for the end of their short journey to her apartment. They spent most of it bickering about whether or not Christen could have driven them back to Tobin's place without any indication. To what Christen asserted she knew Portland like the back of her hand, making Tobin laugh heartily at the blatant lie. It had stopped to rain when Tobin parked her car and quickly stepped out to take Christen's suitcase from the trunk.
Christen tried to get the suitcase back from her friend's hand but Tobin held onto it tightly, claiming the Christen was her guest and it was only normal for her to take care of her luggage. She started walking towards the building's entrance before Christen could roll her eyes at her antics.
When the satisfying click of the door lock resonated in the hallway, Tobin sighed with content at the prospect of having a good night sleep. She motioned for Christen to cross the threshold before closing the door behind her.
Tobin kicked off her shoes and turned on the lights to see Christen leaning back against the kitchen counter. She took two glasses from a cupboard and set them down next to Christen.
"Wine?"
"Don't pretend to be an adult, Tobin. Get me that raspberry and banana juice you love so much."
"I'm not pretending to be an adult," Tobin huffed and Christen raised her eyebrows. "I actually have wine."
A genuine smile found its way on Christen's lips and she let out a small laugh.
"I'm teasing you." She let her fingers ghost over Tobin's wrist to emphasize her point.
Tobin stuck her tongue out at her and opened the fridge to get the bottle. She filled the glasses, announcing, "Juice it is, then."
Drinks were sipped in silence, both of them enjoying the silence and the occasional claps of thunder. Christen briefly scanned Tobin's apartment. It hadn't changed much since the last time she had been there with Alyssa, after an away game against Portland. There were a few framed pictures she didn't remember being there before and a plant near the window. It was a miracle Tobin had managed to keep it alive, she thought.
Tobin finished her drink in one go and hopped on the counter.
"So," she started, "our flight to San Francisco is at eleven tomorrow morning. I only found one motel with an available room near the place but it's just for a night so I thought it'd be okay with you." She shot Christen a questioning look. "Is it?"
"You booked a room for us?" Tobin nodded. "But I told you to let me handle it! I'm already dragging you into this, the least I can do is to take care of everything."
"Are you mad?" Tobin asked, unsure, when she heard Christen's tone.
"Wha- No, of course I'm not mad," she sighed, smiling. "Thank you."
Tobin shrugged. "I knew this whole thing stressed you out. I didn't want you to worry about a hotel room reservation."
Christen shook her head, still smiling. She put her hand around Tobin's arm and leaned her face closer to leave a kiss on Tobin's cheek, skin heating up under her lips.
"You don't have to do all of this." Tobin opened her mouth to protest but Christen lifted her hand to stop her. "I'm serious. You're too nice."
"So I guess you'll take the couch, then?" Tobin smirked.
Christen shrugged, not looking opposed to the proposition and Tobin cursed herself for probably giving her an idea. Before the younger woman could open her mouth to agree, Tobin rushed to the suitcase and dragged it in her bedroom, Christen on her heels. She let the suitcase down at the foot of the bed and leaned back against the wall while Christen plopped down on the bed.
"There are extra towels in the bathroom. We need to leave around nine thirty tomorrow morning. And that's pretty much it," Tobin stopped, thinking about something she could've forgotten. "If you need anything, I'll be..."
"On the couch."
"On the couch, yeah," Tobin chuckled, scratching the back of her neck.
"Sure you don't want the bed?"
"I'm fine, Chris. Just get a good night sleep, yeah?"
"You know it's funny." Tobin tilted her head, waiting for Christen to elaborate. "I thought I was the one stressing out about this whole weekend but you look pretty pale. I didn't think you'd be anxious."
"Maybe I'm not anxious but just tired since I had to pick someone up in the middle of the night."
Christen rolled her eyes, unable to hold back her laugh. "It's eleven, Tobin."
"I need to sleep early. Aren't you the one who said that I was a child... wait, what was it? 'Pretending to be an adult.'"
She poorly tried to impersonate her friend, her voice way too high. Christen grabbed the closest pillow on the bed and threw it at Tobin's face. "I don't talk like that."
"You'd be surprised," Tobin grinned and they both ended up laughing.
Christen sighed, shaking her head at Tobin's comeback and got up from the bed. She searched for something to sleep in for the night. Tobin took this as her cue to leave and headed to the door.
"Goodnight, Press."
Hearing her name, Christen looked up from the pile of clothes in front of her. "Night, Heath. And you know," she added as Tobin walked away, "if the couch turns out to be too uncomfortable..." she trailed off, nodding towards the bed.
"Yeah, in you dreams," Tobin smirked.
Christen huffed at Tobin's words and for the second time of the night, she ended with something thrown at her face - this time it was one of Christen's shirts.
"I'm keeping this." She showed Christen the shirt she held tightly in her fist and left the room before the other girl could say anything.
"Tobin!"
"Can't hear you."
"I was trying to be nice. I'll take something from your stuff," she tried, hoping the midfielder would give her shirt back to her.
The only answer she received was a faint "goodnight" coming from the hallway and she could hear Tobin's smile in her voice. She opened Tobin's closet - she hated to go through her personal things but two could play this game - and when her eyes landed on a baby blue shirt, which was definitely from UNC, she knew she had found the right one. Grabbing a pair of shorts, she went to take a shower while Tobin settled in the living room for the night.
Christen's shirt was on the armrest of the couch were Tobin had abandoned it. Once she had washed the two glasses they had used earlier and got herself a blanket and a pillow, she took her sweatshirt off and slipped the grey shirt on. Bright red letters were ornamenting the soft fabric and she didn't have to stare any longer to realize what word they formed.
Eventually, they both fell asleep wearing the wrong colors, a smile on their lips. Nothing could possibly go wrong at a wedding anyway.