The ESPYS part 1
Vanessa Dwyer fucking loved the ESPYS. She lived her fullest life at the ESPYS. Being able to mingle with her friends on other professional teams, spending an entire night slaying a custom designed dress or tux with her girls and being able to represent the greatest team on the planet was all amazing to V. But the part of the ESPYS, the part she truly lived for, was the drama that always surrounded the awards show.
Since attending her first ESPYS two years ago with the national team, Vanessa had seen some shit go down. She had a first row seat to watching Brooke Knight and Griffin McCaffrey’s disastrous beginning. Vanessa had sat, dumbfounded with Hallie and Chloe, as they saw Alyssa Douglas sucker punch Troy Gronkowski in the stomach because he dared to say that gymnastics wasn’t a real sport. Vanessa had witnessed, with a teary eye, Karter Bryant propose to Quinn Moore to make the greatest basketball couple in history.
So yeah, Vanessa Dwyer fucking loved the ESPYS.
~
Usually Vanessa Dwyer was a social butterfly at awards ceremonies. She made friends quickly, bonding over alcohol or gold medals won, and V was simply a likable human being. So it was an odd and rare occasion when Vanessa stood in the same general area and kept her conversations brief.
“Hey,” Harper Ohai nudged Vanessa on the shoulder as she sat down in the chair next to her teammate “are you okay?”
Vanessa nodded, not taking her eyes off the people she had been staring at for the last ten minutes. “Yeah good, why?”
“Because you’ve destroyed three glasses of champagne without moving more than six inches away from this table the entire night. Usually you’re Queen V, social butterfly at these things. So spill” the forward caught the attention of the ESPYS waiter and motioned for him to keep the alcohol flowing.
V dramatically sighed and slumped in her seat. She had to tell somebody about her observations, it was killing her. Vanessa gestured a perfectly manicured hand towards the other side of the room where a group of their teammates were mingling with some of the NFL players.
“What do you see over there Ohai? Over by our trophy?”
Harper followed the direction of Vanessa’s hand. Standing around the World Cup trophy was a group of Stanford grads who all had gone professional in their own sports. Beckett McCaffrey who now played for the Eagles, Alyssa Douglas who recently won the US Secret Open, Chloe and Chelsea holding pinkies, Riley Curry playing for the United States National Volleyball team, Matthew and Silas Watts who were twin O-Linemen playing for the Seahawks wait.
“Wait what the fuck?” Harper’s jaw dropped.
Chloe and Chelsea were holding pinkies.
Vanessa just nodded, taking a drink from her recently refilled vodka soda. Before she had a chance to explain, somebody came up behind Vanessa and pressed a swift kiss to her cheek while Rhys LePeilbet hugged Harper as the defenders flanked their forwards.
“Dwyer, Ohai, please tell me that you’ve been watching this bullshit happening with our teammates.” Rhys quickly slurped the rest of her whiskey ginger and signaled for another.
“Vanessa, we have to do something.” Hallie demanded “the sexual tension has literally been happening since college. Right Harper?”
Harper raised her wine glass and nodded in agreement before taking a sip.
“Hal,” V took her best friend’s face in her hands, looking the middy in the eye and simultaneously admiring the winged eyeliner Hallie had on for the evening “we can’t”
“Um, why the fuck not?” Rhys questioned, straightening her tie “those two will do the Hallie and Kellan dance for YEARS if we don’t interfere”
“Hey!” Hallie protested
“Who’s doing the Hallie and Kellan dance?” Sadie Van Hollebeke and Emerson Barnhart came over to join.
Harper nodded “LePlehBleh is right, they need us.”
“Who needs us?” Kellan dropped down in the chair next to Hallie while Casey Long and Halston Lindsey sat on Harper and Rhys’s laps.
“This could be the single relationship that unifies North America” Hallie pointed out, thanking the waiter for bringing the table a basket full of fries as well as refills on their drinks.
“Why are we unifying North America?” Lastly young Mallory, her first ESPYS with the National Team, sat in Hallie’s lap while her favorite cousin wrapped her arms around Mal’s waist.
“Dale and Chetch” Rhys filled the rest of the table in with her mouth half full of fries.
Vanessa shook her head vehemently before picking up a shoestring fry and pointing it at each of the now nine women sitting next to her.
“No we cannot because Kaitlan Breanne “I Went to UNC” Werry made me promise that I couldn’t play matchmaker with Chloe and Chelsea. That ‘they have to figure it out on their own’ or some bullshit, I dunno”
The table groaned and sighed. They all knew better than to disobey KAO. She was slated to be their captain once Lindsey, Emily, Sam and Steph retired after the Victory Tour. Respect was the one word that came to mind right after Tarheel when discussing Kaitlan. So the 35ers knew that KAO’s instructions probably had a good reason behind them.
“So Chloe and Chelsea like each other?” Mal timidly asked the table.
The ten women went silent and gave quizzical looks towards their youngest member. They sat for a few moments, watching Mal squirm in embarrassment for a bit before Casey Long spoke up.
“Hallie, you haven’t told our youngest child about the love saga of Chloe and Chelsea?”
“Honestly you have ONE JOB as her godsister and that’s to fill her in the about the drama” Emerson teased.
Sadie rolled her eyes “God Hal and to think you’re the smart one. Let me tell Mal the story. So it began one night at the peasant village of Stanford--”
Hallie groaned and put her hand up “Shut up Hollebeke, you went to Yale so you weren’t even there. Anyway Mal, it all started when Chloe, Ohai and myself were young freshmen at Leland Stanford Junior University, it was Chloe and I’s birthday weekend--”
~
January 2031
“Happy Birthday Chip and Dale, happy birthday to youuuuuu” the Stanford Women’s soccer team sang to the two freshmen who had been shoved in the middle of the huddle after their Friday afternoon pick up game.
“You two are nineteen already? I remember when you two were running around this field in diapers. God I’m old” Paul Ratcliffe threw his two youngest players in a headlock.
Chloe and Hallie protested goodnaturedly before their head coach released them, giving them both fist bumps.
“YOU feel old Coach? Talk to Anson, he’s coaching a player’s GRANDDAUGHTER this year.” Hallie noted. “His entire midfield and backline are the daughters of former players too.”
Paul let out a deep belly laugh, doubling over at his East Coast adversary and good friend.
“Is that so? I’ll have to call good ol’ Anson later. Alright ladies, that was a great scrimmage. You have this weekend off but I expect us to hit it hard on Monday morning. Got it?”
“Yes coach” twenty five young women nodded, itching to get their weekend started.
Paul smiled and put his hand in “Alright Cardinals on three. One-two-three”
“CARDINALS”
“Get out of here” Paul dismissed his team, chuckling as his girls practically tripped over each other heading to the locker room.
In the Stanford Women’s Soccer locker room, the sound system was going full blast and the team was singing along to whatever playlist Paige McCann had complied. This was their first real weekend off since winning College Cup in December and the team was ready to exploit that.
“MY FELLOW CARDINALS,” senior forward Parker Foudy stood on a chair in the middle of the locker room, garnering the attention of her teammates.
“As you all know, tomorrow is our sweet Hal Pal’s birthday and a few days ago our four leaf Chlover had her birthday. In honor of our children turning nineteen, there will be a party at the Senior House tomorrow night starting at nine. It’s going to be big and the theme is Daisy Dukes and Cowboy Boots. Bring your own booze and come pregame at 8. You may resume”
The locker room erupted in cheers. It had been ages since they had a party at Senior House, a home passed on down through the women’s soccer team since its creation over thirty years ago. Saturday night was going to be amazing.
~
“How is the locker room relevant to this story Hallie?” Emerson sassed, not bothering to look at Hallie but instead choosing to keep an eye on Chloe and Chelsea who were now off in their own little world next to the NFL Championship rings display.
The midfielder rolled her eyes, realizing that everyone was half listening because Chloe and Chelsea had moved locations.
“It’s relevant Em”
“She’s kinda right,” Harper agreed “it’s relevant.”
Mal, feeling a little sleepy and ready to hear the rest of the story, leaned into her cousin and watched the spectacle before them.
“Okay so locker room then what?”
“So before the party, we had dinner with your moms but no way to get back to campus”
~