warm beers and cold reunion
The way too bright phone screen displayed numbers which made Christen groan into the mattress. The night went by unpleasantly for her. She kept tossing and turning, rolling on her stomach, on her back, pushing away the covers or wrapping herself up in them. But she was always too hot or too cold. The way she lay down ended up with her arm and or leg stuck under her body and normally she wouldn't have even noticed it but it was like her brain had decided to focus on her limbs and not on the fact she would have to get out of bed barely four hours later.
At first, she had thought her inability to fall asleep was a consequence of her flight from Chicago, since she had slept for a while. But she stopped kidding herself quickly. She had spent enough nights similar to this one to know anxiety had taken over her. Maybe Tobin had been right the first time they had talked about this. Maybe she should've declined the invitation and put her pride aside. It would've cost her a few spiteful comments but again, she received some of those every single day. It wouldn't have been the end of the world. Tobin would've gone back to her family, as she had planned. And she would have been sound asleep by now.
Christen sighed and ran a hand across her face, sitting up on the edge of the bed.
"Get it together, Press."
She considered going to the kitchen to pour herself a cold drink but the chances of waking Tobin up in the process were too high and it convinced her to abandon the idea. She ended up settling for a trip to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face as quietly as possible. She realized that "splash" and "quietly" were two words that didn't work together. So she shortened her trip to the bathroom and went back to the bedroom. If anything, the small drops of water rolling down her temples made her even more aware of her restlessness.
She paced the room, waiting for her eyelids to feel heavy but the sweet deliverance of sleep didn't hit her before a good thirty minutes.
Tobin woke up before the alarm she had set, completely rested. She put her arm under her head and closed her eyes, enjoying a few seconds of silence. A minute or two later, she got up from the couch and stretched her arms. She half-opened the roller shades and made coffee, waiting for Christen.
When the younger woman finally entered the room, she found Tobin sitting on a stool at the bar, a cup of coffee in her hand. She looked like she had spent a good night and Christen found herself being jealous of her friend's sparkling eyes when she thought about the four hours of sleep she had had at most.
"Rough night?" Christen turned her head towards Tobin. "I heard you moving around."
"I'm sorry. I tried not to wake you up," she said with a small apologetic smile.
She poured herself a cup of coffee and filled it until it was almost brimming over. She took the first sip and the scorching hot liquid burned her tongue but she couldn't care less.
"Did you get any sleep at all?" Tobin asked when she saw Christen's tired eyes.
"Barely."
Christen sat on a stool beside Tobin and ran her hand through her hair.
"You know, if you had trouble sleeping," Tobin started, "you should've have joined me on this amazing couch."
She quickly spun on the stool to face Christen who laughed and punched her arm.
"Shut up."
"I'm serious, I slept like a baby. I would've shared," Tobin smiled.
Christen finished her coffee and hopped off the stool to refill the cup. She was about to add a bit of milk when she felt Tobin's eyes on her. She turned around to find brown eyes staring at her intensely.
"What?"
"Well look at you, wearing the enemy's colors." Tobin had just noticed the shirt Christen was wearing. "So you really did go through my clothes," she said, raising her eyebrows.
"You started this," Christen countered, pointing at the shirt Tobin had stolen from her the night before.
"How does it feel to betray your Cardinals?"
"Kelley is the one who's obsessed with her 'Stanford loyalty', not me," Christen corrected her, chuckling. "She'd have a stroke if she saw me like that."
Obviously, the only thing Tobin wished for after this confession was to send Kelley a picture of Christen in UNC gear to see her teammate reaction. She picked up her phone to snap a picture of Christen. Before clicking on the icon, she asked her, "Can I?"
"Wait. Do you have something else?"
"What do you mean? Like UNC stuff?" Christen nodded. "Sure. Give me a second."
Tobin quickly got down from the counter and disappeared in her room. Christen smiled fondly at the girl. They clearly didn't have time for this and she knew Tobin was doing everything she could to calm her down. A diverse range of noises erupted from the the room while a litany of curses rolled off Tobin's tongue. When she heard a loud thud, Christen asked the other woman if she needed any help but Tobin grunted something that Christen took as a "no, it's alright". A few seconds later, she finally joined Christen in the kitchen, a pile of white and baby blue clothes in her arms, a bit disheveled. She let it all down on the bar and waited for Christen to pick something.
"Wow," Christen laughed, going through everything in front of her. "What's you guys' problem with college stuff?"
"Excuse me?"
Tobin hooked her thumb under the collar of the Stanford shirt she was wearing and pulled on it to emphasize her point.
"It's one shirt, Tobin. You have like, a hundred different things."
Christen picked out a few items, examining everything. She took the snapback and shook her head.
"Obviously, you have one of those," she said, adjusting it on Tobin's head. "Looks good on you."
"I know."
Christen saw the satisfied grin stretching Tobin's lips and she flicked the peak of the hat. "Don't be cocky."
She got sweatpants out of the pile and slipped them over her night shorts. Then her eyes landed on a random football player's bobble-head.
"Oh my god," she whispered and she had to channel all her strength to hold back her laughter.
Tobin crossed her arms. "This was a gift."
"No way someone bought you this," Christen laughed, lightly hitting Tobin's nose with the figurine.
"Stop it." Tobin pushed away Christen's hand. "You're good? We need to hurry up or we'll miss the plane."
Christen leaned back against the counter and sighed heavily, playing with her fingers. For a second, she had forgotten about the week-end.
"Maybe we should cancel it all," Christen said, her head down. "I'll get you tickets to Jersey and -"
"Hey." Tobin cut her off. She put a finger under Christen's chin and searched for her eyes. "It'll be fun, alright?"
Christen looked unconvinced and offered Tobin a weak smile.
"If you genuinely smile, I'll get you UNC flip-flops for Kelley's picture."
Christen laughed heartily, "You're an idiot."
Tobin waited for Christen to put on baby blue sunglasses to finally take a picture. She selected Kelley on her contact list and added the picture to the text, typing Christen says hi before sending it.
Tobin set her phone down on the bar and left the room to go take a quick shower. At the same time, Christen took off the sweatpants and the sunglasses. She gathered everything Tobin had brought to the kitchen and took it back to her room, putting it down on Tobin's bed. When the midfielder exited the bathroom wrapped in a towel to tell Christen it was all hers, the younger woman rapidly glanced at her toned body. She shook her head, smiling and her cheeks heating up, before heading to the bathroom with her clothes.
Twenty minutes later, both suitcases and their owners were standing in the kitchen, ready to leave the apartment. Tobin motioned for Christen to go first so that she could lock the door. As they got out of the building, Tobin's phone vibrated in her back pocket.
Kelley: Looks like we have a traitor in the house. Tell Press I won't say hi back until she burns that shirt.
She laughed and showed the text to Christen who told her she knew Kelley too well. They went the same way as the night before but this time Christen drove them to the airport. She wanted to prove Tobin she did know Portland like the back of her hand and she wasn't going to let it go. As a result of Christen's stubbornness, they barely made it in time for their flight.
"So, tell me everything. I need to be prepared."
The plane had taken off a few minutes before and Tobin tried to get Christen's attention as she watched the landscape through the window. She had restrained herself from asking Christen any question regarding the weekend during the last few days but she needed some information now. Tobin was looking at her with sparkling and Christen admitted defeat.
"What do you want to know?" she asked, resigned to satisfy Tobin's curiosity.
Tobin shrugged. "What do I need to know? Am I supposed to be Kelley?"
Christen asked her what she was talking about.
"Kelley should've been your date. Am I supposed to pretend I'm her?"
Christen shook her head no, "She's from Stanford. She knows Kelley. Actually, she was invited as well."
Tobin hummed at the information and sat up straight, shifting a little in her seat to face Christen a little more. It was the sign she was going to start her questioning.
"What's her name?"
"Megan."
"How old is she?"
"Twenty-eight."
"Who is she going to marry?"
"Joshua Clark."
"Could you make this conversation interesting?"
Christen glanced at Tobin and shrugged. "They're boring."
"Usually, you make everything interesting. It doesn't matter what you're talking about. So really, you're not trying even the slightest here."
A smile plastered on her lips, Christen asked, "You think I make things interesting?"
"You do," Tobin assured. "Remember when you explained to me that smoothie recipe? I actually listened. And I don't even like smoothies."
"That's not true, you have smoothies all the time."
"Only when people make them for me," Tobin corrected.
"And I can't believe you tried to compliment me using smoothies. This is terrible," Christen went on, chuckling.
"And I can't believe you're using my terrible compliments to change the main subject," Tobin countered. "Now, tell me something funny about them."
"They're not fun."
"Christen."
"What? I haven't seen her in years and I don't know the guy."
Tobin furrowed her eyebrows. "Then how do you know his name?"
"The invitation, Tobin," Christen said as if it were obvious.
Tobin asked to see it and Christen searched for the white piece of cardboard in her bag. She handed it to Tobin who examined it intensely like an evidence on a crime scene. Christen leaned towards her friend to look at the invitation as well.
"It's a miracle if this damn paper doesn't have my name typed in some awful bold font under a special guest category," she sighed.
"Maybe this Megan girl is not that wrong and you're a little full of yourself," Tobin teased after Christen's remark.
Christen huffed, "This past few week, at least eight people I hadn't been in touch with since college called me to know if I was planning to go. Eight, Tobin. She probably told them I was going. And they don't even like me, like we weren't close or anything, so why would she even talk to them about me?" Christen rambled and Tobin smiled softly at her.
"Do you ever let your brain be? Or are you always making things up like this?"
Christen didn't reply. She closed her eyes and sank into her seat.
"Get some sleep," Tobin said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Christen hummed, probably agreeing with Tobin. It didn't take her long to enter the world of dreams and her head fell to the side, resting on Tobin's shoulder for the end of the flight. Tobin decided to listen to music as she tried to steady her breath, based on Christen's. It felt like their heartbeats matched and she almost fell asleep as well, the music inefficient to keep her awake.
Two hours later, they were out of the airport, their luggage in taxi and on their way to rent a car. When Tobin had asked her why, Christen had replied it would calm her down to drive and Tobin didn't dare to argue. They ended up in a car, Christen at the wheel, in the middle of San Francisco.
"If you know San Francisco as well as Portland, I'm afraid we'll miss the wedding," Tobin teased.
"I won't even acknowledge your cutting remark," Christen smirked proudly.
At the same time, her stomach rumbled and they decided to stop to grab a bite. Christen kept driving until she noticed a parking spot near a small bakery. They entered the bright shop and started to look at the displayed baked goods. Christen also spotted a few tables at the back of the room, some of them already occupied, the sound of chatters echoing against the wall. The young man behind the counter asked them what they needed. He waited for Christen to talk but her eyes landed on something, or more precisely someone, and she was incapable of saying anything.
"I'll have a chocolate muffin, please," Tobin said when Christen stayed silent.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me."
Tobin stared at Christen, confused, "Uh.. you don't like choc-"
"She's here," Christen whispered.
"Who's here?"
"Megan."
Tobin tried to look over Christen's shoulder but the move owed her a kick in the shin followed by a warning glare as she was about to protest.
"Low profile," Christen groaned.
A cough from the server brought them back to reality. Tobin asked him to get the same thing for Christen and added a few other pastries. Christen tried to hide her face with her hair as well as she could while Tobin paid for their purchase. All plans to sit at one of the tables to enjoy a moment of calm were cancelled and forgotten. The only thing she wanted to do was to get back to the car and drive away from this hellish place. But when they had almost reached the door, what she knew was bound to happen finally did.
"Christen?"
The name rolled hesitantly off a blonde woman's tongue who Tobin immediately knew was Megan.
"Fuck," Christen muttered, "here we go." She put her hand on Tobin's arm when she shot her a questioning look. "Just stay here, I'll be right back."
She turned away from the double-doors of the bakery and forced a smile on her lips but she could feel how fake it looked. Megan stood up from her seat, followed by a teenage girl and walked towards her.
"I almost didn't recognize you!"
Would've been great if you didn't, Christen thought. The woman, slightly taller than her, wrapped her arms around her shoulders and gave what would have been a warm hug if Christen had enjoyed a hundredth of a second of it. Tobin was close enough to hear and see the majority of what was happening. Megan let go of Christen and stepped back.
"So, how are you?"
"Getting married tomorrow, no big deal," Megan laughed.
"Right."
Tobin's teeth sank into the inside of her cheeks to hold back a laugh and the metallic taste of blood left an unpleasing taste on her tongue. Christen wasn't even trying. But it didn't seem to bother the bride-to-be.
"Kelley texted me she wouldn't be able to make it," she said with a pout and Christen mentally noted to ask Kelley why in hell she still had the woman's number in her contact list. "Weren't you guys supposed to come together?"
"Yes, we were."
"What is it with you being stood up?" Megan laughed again.
It seemed that they were sharing a inside joke but Christen wasn't laughing. She wasn't even smiling. Tobin didn't hear every single thing they were saying but she could clearly see Christen's clenched jaw from time to time and it made her dislike the blonde woman on the spot. Megan apparently felt the discomfort and introduced the teenage girl next to her to Christen.
"This is my niece, Melissa."
"Nice to meet you," Christen smiled at the girl and it was definitely the first genuine smile that had found its way on her lips since the beginning of the conversation.
"Christen plays professional soccer," Megan explained. "They never have time for themselves, it's crazy. I wasn't sure you'd be able to come to be honest. Maybe it's a good thing you don't have so much of a personal life after all."
Christen tried to tell herself not to take it personally but it was too much. She was too proud for that and she wasn't her twenty-year-old self anymore, who would've put up with this. She didn't think for a second about what she was doing. She just flashed a bright smile to Megan and took a few steps back to gently grab Tobin's arm and pull her towards the two other women.
"Actually, this is Tobin. My date." Her smile was bright, her teeth were showing but her tone was ice cold.
Megan furrowed her brows, "Your date?" Christen hummed. "As in your date date?"
"Yes. My date."
Tobin looked rapidly back and forth between the two women in front of her, wondering how they could have a conversation only using the word "date" in different tones. Then she remembered the beginning of Christen's sentence. She was the date, the date date. Tobin froze up on the spot.
Megan moved to shake Tobin's hand. "Nice to meet you, Tobin."
The woman was clearly unconvinced about Tobin being Christen's date date and Tobin had no idea what to do. Instinctively, she put her arm around Christen's waist and let her hand rest on her hip. She made sure not to apply any pressure, barely touching the fabric of her shirt. She felt ridiculous and she prayed for her cheeks and neck not to be burning red. Christen pushed Tobin's hand on her hip with her arm and even if the contact felt unusual, Tobin relaxed under her touch, knowing Christen was the one initiating this.
"Did Christen finally find a woman who meets all of her criteria?"
Tobin let out a nervous laugh, unsure whether she was supposed to be friendly towards the woman or not. She didn't even have to try to look embarrassed; she already was. She nervously scratched the the back of her neck,waiting for Christen to say something.
"Looks like it. Now if you'll excuse us..." Christen trailed off, indicating they had somewhere else to go.
"Sure, I'll see you both tomorrow, then."
After one last forced smile, Christen grabbed Tobin's hand and dragged her to the door, opening it with her free hand. As soon as they stepped outside, Tobin opened her mouth to ask her what had just happened but Christen lifted her hand before she could make any comment.
"Don't."
She walked back to the car without a word and sat on the passenger side since Tobin was the one who knew where the motel was supposed to be. Tobin let the paper bag from the bakery on the backseat before getting into the car and starting it. She glanced at Christen when they stopped at a red light. The younger woman still hadn't said a word and was chewing on her lips, refusing to meet Tobin's gaze. So she kept driving in silence and only stopped at a grocery store close to the motel to get two beers and a water bottle. Christen stayed in the car, too embarrassed to do anything. They finished their short journey to the motel with the radio on. Tobin parked the car and went to get the room key at the front desk. The room was on the first floor and both girls carried their suitcases up the stairs. Tobin unlocked the door and tossed the keys on the desk against the wall.
A fan shuffled the stifling air filling the room. It was too hot, the red covers were too bright and the walls were too thin so Tobin decided to stay outside, on the balcony, for a while. Christen disappeared in the bathroom but she didn't stay for long when she realized that splashing cold water on her face wasn't as effective as she thought it'd be. She couldn't wash away her embarrassment anyway. On her way to meet Tobin outside, she picked the two beers on the desk.
She handed one bottle to Tobin, who uncapped it using the railings and repeated the action for Christen's beer. They somehow found a way to enjoy sipping lukewarm, bitter tasting alcohol while the sun set behind the motel's buildings, somewhere they couldn't see, and it made Tobin think of a bad teenage getaway.
"I don't know what came over me," Christen blurted out after a while.
"Well, well, well. She speaks," Tobin smiled.
Christen ran a hand across her face and tugged a strand of hair behind her hear, looking for words. Tobin took pity on her friend who was clearly struggling to express herself.
"What did she say?"
Christen took a mouthful of beer and sighed, "She took great pleasure in reminding me how single and picky I am. Wait, what was it? 'A good thing you don't have so much of a personal life' or something along these lines."
"Nice," Tobin huffed. "So that's when you basically told her we were dating."
The word made Christen cringed. "I didn't actually say it." Tobin raised her eyebrows and failed at holding back a smirk. "Alright, fine. That's what I meant," Christen caved in. "I'll tell her tomorrow that we're just good friends."
"Maybe she won't bring back the subject."
"Oh, trust me. She will."
Tobin shrugged and leaned on the railings. The beer, warmer now, became difficult to swallow but she kept taking small sips. They finished their drinks and went back inside to eat what Tobin had bought. It was almost six and she asked Christen if she wanted to go out to eat something else than a few muffins but the younger woman had lost her appetite. She decided to take a way-too-hot shower and breathed in the steam. It felt like it grazed her throat but somehow she found it soothing. When she returned to the room, Tobin was on her bed, watching a soccer game on TV. Christen let her fingers run through her damp hair.
"What was she talking about with you being stood up?"
Christen turned her head towards Tobin. She sat crossed-legged in the middle of her bed while Tobin looked at her, hoping the question didn't bother her.
"She was talking about that girl who stood me up in college. I didn't even remember about that," Christen admitted. "But that's the thing about Megan. She remembers every little detail and she waits for the right moment to bring them back."
Tobin stared at her, eyes wide open. "You got stood up?"
"Did you hear a word of what I said after that?" Christen rolled her eyes but smiled at Tobin's outrage. "And yeah, I did. Never happened to you?"
"No."
"Well, look at you, lady-killer," Christen said with a mocking smile but still impressed.
Tobin stayed silent, lost in her thoughts and mindlessly watched the game. When the whistle announced half-time, she let her head fall back against the headboard and sighed, "I just don't understand how someone could stand you up."
"Why are you still thinking about this?" Christen laughed.
She never got an answer but Tobin suddenly sat up on the edge of the bed and clapped her hands. "We're dating," she announced.
"What?"
"If you tell Megan we're friends, she's going to remember you lied and she'll add this to her list of people who stood you up or whatever."
Christen shook her head. "We are not doing this."
"Yes we are. It'll just come back to bite you," Tobin said. "Own up to what you've done, Press," she added when Christen was about to protest.
Christen contemplated the idea for a minute and had to admit the midfielder was right. But most importantly, nothing would have made her happier than to shut the bride up, so to speak. She narrowed her eyes and asked Tobin, "Are you sure you're up for this?"
"Are you?" Tobin challenged her.
Christen pointed to her chest, trying to appear offended by the question. "Me? Pff, obviously."
"Cool."
"Cool."
Christen slipped under the covers to watch the end of the soccer game. She commented a few actions along with Tobin who was way more invested in the game, judging by the number of times she threw her hands up or reacted loudly to a bad call. She quickly felt her eyelids becoming heavier, the lack of sleep kicking in.
Tobin, however, stayed wide awake, her arms crossed under her head. She had tried to be confident about her plan but she hadn't fully realized what it implied. Her cheeks had turned a bright red when she only had to put her hand on Christen's waist. If they wanted to sell it, she would have to be way more comfortable and credible than that.