Tension
Jayce didn’t stop yapping about the match in the car with Caitlyn all the way from when they left the stadium to when they parked up at home.
He was insistent on replaying each second of the match verbally, barraging his passenger with his commentary of the game, remembering new details on each retelling of the same 80 minutes she’d also been to watch.
“That final try, God, what a beauty-“
“And the fight with the scrum halves, I thought someone might start bleeding-“
“Oh, and Vi’s dump tackle and jackal, Jesus-“
In all honesty Cait really didn’t understand the rules of rugby. It was entertaining to watch, but as much as Jayce had tried and failed to teach her the code of the sport on multiple occasions, she still struggled to wrap her head around it. Why were there so many stupid rules that everyone had to know?
It didn’t help that Caitlyn hadn’t been following the game much at all. More particularly, she’d just been following a single particular player. She couldn’t stop herself from gawping at Vi the entire time she was on the field. How her shoulders popped out of her tight playing shirt. How her biceps bulged with each tackle and hit she made. How quickly she’d run down that pitch, veins pulsing down her arms, a twisted look of determination on her face.
“So, did you enjoy it?” Jayce had finally asked. He switched the ignition off in the car and the engine fell silent.
“Oh. Yes, it was very good,” she responded absentmindedly.
Jayce smirked before clambering out of the vehicle, opening the door for Cait on the other side. He had a tendency to do that for everyone, regardless of who he was with; a real gentleman.
Caitlyn thanked him and exited as well and they both walked up the driveway to the house. Viktor was there to greet them at the door, which took Cait by surprise, as on a normal day he’d be resting his leg at this point.
“Caitlyn, Jayce,” he greeted warmly. “How was the game?”
“Fucking brilliant, Vik, you should’ve been there. Please come next time. You could get us fast passes with your leg, right?”
“Ha ha,” Viktor said without an ounce of humour in his voice. He stepped aside to let his housemates in.
It seemed that Mel and Viktor had both been busy setting up while the other two were gone. Soft music played through the TV speakers from a playlist Mel had put together the night before. The lights had been dimmed for a more moody atmosphere, and navy blue paper streamers hung from the ceiling, brushing over Cait’s hair as she walked through. They’d turned the dining table into a “Beer Pong Zone” (as described by a slapped-together sign one of them had hung on the wall behind), and atop the breakfast island were more bottles of booze than you’d find in a brewery.
It seemed Mel had raided the local liquor store for anything and everything she could possibly need. Caitlyn seriously doubted if the whole party would be able to consume this much alcohol. Bottles of vodka, rum, sambuca and tequila were all lined up in a neat row in front of a suspiciously dark red bowl of punch. Curiously, Caitlyn cracked open the fridge, and her suspicions were confirmed when she saw that two shelves had been cleared out to house boxes upon boxes of beer and cider, as well as a few bottles of soft drinks for mixers.
Jayce leant his head over the punch and took a whiff. He scrunched his nose up. “Jesus, Viktor, did you put gasoline in this?” he protested.
Viktor just chuckled and shrugged. If there was one thing he was known for at parties, it was mixing the most diabolical debilitating concoctions known to man. “I have a reputation to maintain, Jayce.”
“Whatever.” Jayce grabbed a can of drink from the fridge and slammed it shut with his hip. The contents rattled with the impact. “I’m gonna have a shower beer and get ready. You should do the same. Just not with me, though,” he quickly added before scurrying upstairs.
“Such a man,” Mel scoffed under her breath. She was already dressed for the party in a gorgeous yellow cocktail dress and had adorned herself with glinting gold jewellery. An open bottle of wine sat on the table in front of her as she laid back on the couch, taking large sips from her glass.
“You’re drinking red?” Cait regarded with a small grin as she noticed the colour of the liquid. She sat down next to Mel.
The other girl swirled her glass around and watched as the crimson sloshed up the sides. “Darling, I always drink red.”
“Are you trying to get emotional?”
“Not at all. It’s just the best colour.” She relaxed a bit more into the sofa before looking over at Cait. “So, how was the game?”
“Good. We won, so expect a lot of talk about that tonight.”
“Uh-huh,” drawled Mel. “And did you see your little protegee?”
“No,” Caitlyn quipped before admitting, “yes.”
“Interesting. You never did tell me how that date went,” replied Mel slyly as she pulled out her phone. A message flashed across her screen and she sighed heavily.
Caitlyn decided to change the subject. “Everything okay?”
“It seems my mother won’t be visiting tomorrow,” the other girl responded with a huff. “Some emergency council thing. Suspect it’s the same for Cassandra too.”
Caitlyn whipped out her phone to check, and sure enough, there was a message from her mother telling Tobias she wouldn’t be making it home until late tonight on their family group chat.
“Wonder what that’s about,” Cait said airily.
“Probably the budget for the Winter Ball.”
They both laughed a little, before Cait excused herself to get ready for the party. She got up and left Mel to her bottle of wine and questionable “party” music.
***
For Vi and the other Piltover Military Academy players the party had started as soon as they’d stepped foot off the pitch.
Sprinting past the wallowing University of Piltover team, they howled and whooped with joy down the tunnels to their changing room, blasting music out of the same shitty tinny speaker they were using while getting ready. Four pitchers of beer and cider, accompanied by flimsy plastic cups, were laid out on the physio table for them.
The girls swarmed the drinks greedily, picking the large jugs up and immediately starting to pour, their thirst for celebration clouding their judgement.
Dylan stepped in and took a jug, hushing the girls with her hand, clicking her tongue. “Ladies, ladies, manners! Captain and VC speak first, then we get fucked up.”
They laughed heartily. The noise rattled and shook in their chest as they all still panted heavily from exhaustion.
“Alright, first things first.” She set the pitcher down on the table in front of her. “Phenomenal game, girls. Fuckin’ phenomenal. That team we played as out there? That’s what I want to see for the rest of the goddamn season!”
More whoops and cheers erupted from the players. Vi stepped forward to say her part as vice-captain, making steady eye contact with every player in the room. “Good shift girls. That’s how it’s fucking done!” she howled, pumping a fist into the air.
When the excitement bubbled down, Dylan started to pour out a glass of cider and held the amber liquid out in front of her. “Now, if it were up to me,” she said slowly, “every single one of you would be getting Player of the Match for how you performed out there. Except you, Verity,” she added, tipping the plastic cup towards the scrum half who’d been in a fight the first half. The short girl simply smirked. “But there’s one player who really made a difference in our attack. For deadly dumptackles and an incredible game-saving finish, step forward, Vi fucking Vanderson!”
Vi’s teammates clapped and ruffled her hair and shoulders as she sheepishly stepped forward, a huge childish grin on her face. She took the cup from Dylan, nodded a thank you, and downed the drink in under five seconds. This sent the players even wilder.
The music went on and the drinks were knocked back as the team got ready together. They all wore their navy blue PMA polo shirts, the standard post-match uniform, with an extra sense of pride that evening; it represented everything they’d fought hard for on that pitch, represented each other, represented their honour for the school.
Being so soon into the school year, their polo shirts will still the same size as last season, and Vi found herself impressed at her capped shoulders now bulging out of the thin material. Those summer gym sessions seemed to have paid off in more ways than one.
A couple of players had elected themselves designated drivers to ferry them all to Jayce’s house, including Dylan, who was trying to set a good example to the younger players of the team. Not only was it her last season with the team, it was also her final year at the academy, before she too would join the ranks of the regular army as per her contract. Vi rode along with her for the journey to the party, alongside three tipsy first years squashed into the back of her little hatchback.
As they stopped at a red light, Dylan flicked her indicator on before turning to Vi slyly. The rhythmic tick-tick-tick reverberated through the car.
“So, Vanderson, anyone you got your eye on this evening?” she asked with a wink.
“Nope,” Vi retorted, popping the ‘P’. “Tonight’s a celebration with my girls.”
“Bullshit,” Dylan scoffed. The light went green and she rounded the corner. “I know who else lives there, I’m not stupid.”
“You think I’m getting it on with Jayce?” accused Vi. A teasing smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.
“What? No! I don’t even know who that is,” Dylan huffed. “You know who I’m talking about.”
Vi remained silent. She ran her fingers over the callouses on the pad of her other hand, grounding herself in the feeling of soft flesh going into thick.
After what seemed like an eternity of awkward silence, bar the drunken gibberish coming from the backseats from the younger players, Dylan finally spoke again. “I’m putting you up for captain next year.”
“What?” Vi reared in her seat. She sat up to face Dylan better.
Her captain nodded but kept her eyes on the road. “The girls look up to you. Especially the first years. You might not have seen it today, but I certainly did. Sevika always asks for suggestions for next year, so I’m putting your name forward.”
“Oh.” Vi slumped back into her seat. “Thank you.”
“Something wrong?”
“No, it’s just-“ Vi licked her bottom lip. “Just a lot of pressure, ‘s all.”
“You straight up choke slammed a bitch today, and you’re talking about pressure?” Dylan repeated her words. “Don’t sweat it. You’ll do great, you’re already a damn good VC. Besides, you can always call me for help.”
“Yeah,” Vi said sarcastically. “You’ll be in some foreign country kicking ass and I’ll be calling you asking how to get the second years to stop trying to kill each other.”
Dylan smiled again before pulling the car to the side of the road. The three in the back clambered out, giggling to themselves, as the headed into the house. Dylan sat behind the wheel for a while longer before placing a hand on Vi’s shoulder.
“There’s no one else I’d want watching over our girls,” she said firmly before exiting the car.
Vi sat for a moment, staring at Dylan’s empty seat, wallowing in her own self-doubt. She was shocked enough to wear the vice-captain badge, let alone potentially become captain next year. She was a fighter, sure. That was something you could easily tag yourself as through hours of blood, sweat and tears in the gym and on the pitch or in the ring. But a leader?
Leaders were born. They weren’t made. And it sure as shit didn’t come with a manual.
A fist banging on the glass window snapped Vi out of her trance. “Stop fucking moping and get in here!” commanded Dylan, her voice muffled by the thin material between them.
Taking a deep breath, Vi slipped out of the passenger side of the car and headed into the party.
Heavy bass shook the walls and floor, audible before they’d even entered the building. The crowd was packed and bustling shoulder-to-shoulder in the hosts’ house, making their seemingly giant accommodation appear miniscule. Thick clouds of vape smoke hung in the air, refracting the dancing lights emitting from a disco ball somewhere, fruity mist fogging Vi’s vision as she squeezed through the crowd.
Jayce had put a call out, and every fucker looking for something good to do on a Saturday night had answered; Vi recognised some faces from the men’s rugby team, others from around campus, but the rest were complete strangers. Did they even go to their school?
“Dumptruck Vanderson!” a booming voice called through the crowd. Speak of the devil.
Jayce made his way through the entangled mess of bodies to greet Vi. His broad shoulders cut a perfect pathway for him. He wrapped his huge arms around the shorter girl and squeezed heavily, leaning nearly his entire weight onto her. His shirt smelled of cheap beer and heaps of cologne.
“Hey, Jayce,” Vi managed to squeeze out from beneath his arms. “Who the fuck are all these people?”
Jayce pulled away and giggled to himself. “No fuckin’ clue. It’s cool though, right?” Suddenly remembering why he came over, he shoved a red Solo cup into Vi’s hand, the gold liquid sloshing over the side and spilling down her knuckles and onto the floor. “That’s for you. On the house.”
“Thanks,” she said warily, taking a small sip, finding herself surprised that the beer was still somewhat cold. “Who else is here?”
“Um,” he mumbled, scanning the room carefully, “Mel and Viktor, obviously. And Caitlyn. Claggor and Mylo showed up about a half hour ago, but I think they’re outside. And your girls, obviously.”
“Right.” She nodded a thanks, taking a larger sip of her alcohol this time. There was no way she was doing this shit sober. “Well, thanks again, I guess I gotta mingle now.”
“Have fun!” Jayce beamed from ear to ear. He really was in his natural habitat. He dapped Vi up before slinking back into the crowd, shouting about starting a karaoke competition soon.
Vi broke away from the main area and ducked into the kitchen, catching her breath. She knew she’d be okay once she found her brothers, but for now, the music and lights were starting to burn into her brain.
She ripped open the kitchen fridge and found another can of beer, popping the tab and pouring it into her nearly empty cup. It was difficult to get drunk when half of your drink had been sloshed away by intoxicated hands.
“Making yourself at home?” a voice purred behind her.
Vi turned her head. An instant tidal wave of relief washed over her as she recognised the face. “Hey, Cait,” she said breathlessly, pulling the taller girl into a big hug which lasted longer than it should’ve. “You look really good tonight.”
Caitlyn was wearing a tight white turtleneck tucked neatly into a navy blue pencil skirt. A single silver necklace hung loosely around her neck. “Do I not look good every night?” she shot back.
“No I-“ Vi stumbled over her words. “I didn’t mean it like that, you know that.”
Caitlyn laughed heartily, a noise which made Vi’s heart jump in her chest. She was nursing a large glass of rose. “I know, I just like seeing you get flustered.”
“Oh.” Vi’s cheeks tinged the same shade as the wine Cait had been circling in her hand. “Um, we won, by the way.”
“Yes, Vi, I was there,” Cait drawled sarcastically. She smiled and raised her glass to her lips, not breaking her eyes away from the girl stood across from her. “Congratulations. Quite the performance.”
“Yeah, well, had to give you a show, right?” Vi felt herself loosening up slightly as a dull ebbing feeling spread to her legs. The booze was finally starting to kick in.
Cait placed the glass down next to her and folded her arms over her chest. “No dirty pints in my house please. I have enough to deal with with a drunk Jayce, I don’t need to be mopping up someone’s sick too.”
Vi held her hands up in a defensive motion. “None tonight. I promise.”
“And I can trust your word?” Caitlyn stepped over to Vi, a playful glint in her eyes, flashing her teeth as she ran her tongue over the enamel.
“Always.”
“My, my, you two always have a way of finding each other!” A gorgeous dark-skinned woman stepped into the kitchen and strolled up to the breakfast island, flicking the cap off a bottle of vodka with one hand before pouring the clear drink into another Solo cup. It took Vi a moment to recognise her as the housemate she’d met last night.
“Hey, Mel,” chirped Cait casually. “How’s Jayce?”
“He’s pulling his ‘punisher’ move on some pool soul he found sitting alone on the sofa, so he’s well on his way,” the other girl – Mel – retorted.
“Punisher?” Vi raised an eyebrow and looked between the two young ladies.
Cait chuckled. “It’s when you get cornered by a drunk person and they just don’t stop rambling at you. We call it the Punisher. Jayce is well-known for it,” she explained.
“Yes.” Mel topped off her liquor with a healthy serving of Pepsi before knocking back a large gulp. “Enough talk of Jayce, anyway. I want to know more about the girl who’s stolen the heart of my lovely Caitlyn. Quite the sports superstar, I hear.”
Vi trailed her fingers along the inside of her elbow awkwardly. “Yeah, could say that.”
“Darling, being humble will only get you so far in life,” Mel quipped. Pouring some more vodka into her cup, she took one last glance at Caitlyn before slipping back into the crowd and leaving them both with a sly smirk. “Enjoy your night, lovebirds. And don’t forget what I said about the walls.”
Vi licked her lips as her heart started to hammer harder in her chest. An echoing ringing broke out in her ears, its intensity growing by the second as the walls grew in on her further.
Cait sensed her worry in a second and quickly slipped her fingers into Vi’s. “Want to go outside?” she asked earnestly.
“Please,” Vi breathed.
Without another word, Cait led the panicking girl out onto the patio, where the music was significantly quieter and the atmosphere much more casual. A couple partygoers were huddled around smoking cigarettes while others were chatting freely, no longer bound by the restraints of the overbearing noise inside.
Vi spotted her two brother outside almost instantly. Claggor was hunched over a glass table, his behemoth of a body shaking with laughter as he deeply conversed with Mylo and another man who Vi did not recognise. “S’up, boys?” she jeered, draping her arms across her two brothers.
“Vi!” Mylo jumped up and wrapped his arms around Vi’s shoulders before quickly settling down. “This is Viktor,” he drabbled, gesturing to the man across the table.
Viktor gave a curt wave. “Nice to meet you, Vi.”
“Yeah, he’s like, super cool,” Mylo continued, gushing with excitement. “He studies Genetics at UoP, how cool is that? Oh, not that cool because you beat them, but whatever. He mixed the punch for the party too; he’s like Walter White but for alcohol.”
Vi looked at the cup in front of Mylo, a deep red mystery liquid swirling inside it. She picked it up to take a sniff, and had to restrain herself from gagging at the overbearing waft of ethanol. “Yeah, um, that’s- that’s something. How many of these has he had?”
“Four,” Viktor informed her. “One more and you will be carrying him home like it’s your wedding day.”
“Lovely analogy, Viktor,” Cait chirped with a smile. “Please, try not to poison any more of our guests.”
“Eh.” The other man shrugged. He had a slight accent to his words, one Vi couldn’t quite place. “No promises.”
The two girls waved the men goodbye as they searched for a quiet place to talk. Eventually, they settled on an old beaten metal bench towards the other side of the house, near the group of smokers. It was cold to the touch as they sat down.
“Were you okay back there?” Caitlyn asked quietly as they took their seats, a slight tone of concern in her voice.
Vi nodded. “Yeah, it’s just been a hectic day. I have so much adrenaline after my games, it kinda just crashes down on me at the wrong times.”
“I see.” Without thinking, Cait snaked her hand over to Vi’s and interlocked their fingers again, giving Vi’s palm a tight squeeze.
Vi sat for a moment, grounding herself with the feeling of Cait’s skin on hers, flesh soft and supple atop each other. Caitlyn’s eyes constantly scanned the groups of teenagers passing them, dipping in and out of the house for smoke breaks and to top up their drinks.
“Why didn’t you call me in the summer?” Vi asked suddenly. It was the conversation she’d been wanting to have properly with Caitlyn the second they sat down next to each other on the first day back.
“I was volunteering abroad. I told you,” said Cait dismissively. She shuffled on her seat.
“Yeah, I know that. But I didn’t hear from you at all. Surely you could’ve found the time to phone me at least once.” Vi’s words were tinged with a hint of aggression.
Cait breathed out heavily, a small ache emitting from her chest as she did so. “I didn’t know what to say, Vi. I thought we were just mates from school, that’s all.”
“What?” Vi snatched her hand away from the other girl’s and turned to face her. A glimmer of anger flicked in her eyes, before slowly seeping into disappointment. Betrayal. “That’s all I was to you? A school friend? After all we did together, all the times we hung out, all our late-night chats?”
“I thought that’s what you wanted, Vi, just someone to keep you occupied-“
“You know I like you, right?”
Vi’s confession hit Caitlyn like a speed train. Her jaw dropped, mouth agape slightly, staring over at the mullet-sporting rugby player next to her. “I- I didn’t know,” she finally admitted.
“Yeah, well, then you’re blind.” Vi’s tone softened, a small smile quipping against her lips.
“I had no idea, Vi,” Cait pleaded. She rotated her wine glass between her two hands, fingers nimbly grazing the cold moisture-covered material. “Really. If I’d have known, I would’ve called, I promise. I loved spending time with you- I still do. I- fuck!”
Entranced with the words spilling from her mouth, Cait had lost her focus on the drink she’d been swirling, and the slick surface slipped between her fingers. Pastel pink liquid spilt straight down the front of her turtleneck, staining the thick white material, and Caitlyn swore to herself again.
Vi giggled as she looked down Caitlyn’s chest. The action broke the thick tension growing between them. “Have you got anything to change into?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Cait said with a sigh. She stood up and took her wine glass with her and headed off in the direction of the house, before turning around and noticing Vi still sitting on the bench. “Well, are you coming?”
“Oh.” Vi’s eyes lit up like a lost puppy’s as she slightly jogged to catch up with Caitlyn. “Yeah, of course.”
The smell of alcohol had increased tenfold as the two re-entered the kitchen. More and more people were up and dancing, their drunkenness clouding their better judgement, swinging around and laughing with strangers of the night. Over everyone else’s heads, Vi could just make out Jayce stood above the rest of the crowd, singing a horrific cover of Creed’s One Last Breath into an imaginary microphone.
Shaking her head in disapproval, Caitlyn stopped to watch her friend making a fool of himself in front of everyone, before taking Vi’s hand again and leading her up to her bedroom.