24 | Strange Naked Strangers

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Somehow, Jamie-Lee managed not to tell Lennie or Joanna about the final dress fitting, because that Friday after a vigorous pre-weekend game practice, Rosalie wound up alone in Jamie-Lee's car. They hadn't spent all that much time alone together, and the realization that she was with a boy hit her hard. She wasn't sure if her sweat was from working out before, or just hormone secretion.

She reached the shoulder of her cutoff shirt and rubbed it over her forehead and discretely sniffed herself. Yeah, definitely disgusting. Why didn't she think to put more deodorant on before leaving the locker room?

"Rosalie, I can't even smell you from over here," Jamie said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as he turned out of the school parking lot.

"Sorry. It's just—I mean, your mom really intimidates me, alright? And she's gonna be all up in my pits, you know?" she said, waving her hands in front of her armpits.

"She's dealt with me my entire life—you can't smell worse than me after practice," he said with a scoff.

"Yeah, but doesn't your coach make you guys shower after?"

"What? No."

"Your hair's still wet from the showers," Rosalie sighed.

"Okay, fine, but that's just because I gotta maintain all this." He dragged a hand down his side, and Rosalie slapped a hand over her face to keep from giggling. "Honestly, my mom won't care. And if you want, you could use my shower before the fitting."

She knew it'd be weird, but she was desperate. "That... would actually be ideal. Would you really let me use your—"

"Yes! Oh my God, Rosalie, just use the damn shower," he laughed, shoving her in the arm.

She grinned, and watched his cheeky dimples show. It felt as though all the blood in her torso swept up to her heart and neck, flushing her skin bright red underneath the gnarly cut off tee she wore for practice. She turned her eyes out of the passenger window so she wouldn't have to confess how much she... actually might have liked Jamie-Lee Berry.

How many girls at Bradshaw could say that with serious conviction? Not many at all, she imagined. He was too immature in class to warrant their serious affections.

The house was relatively quiet when they arrived in the garage and stepped in through the side door near the kitchen. Jamie scoped out the coast, and they rushed as fast as they could with Jamie's bum ankle. They hurried through the rampant kitchen disaster, crushing fallen noodles beneath their sneakers. Rosalie grumbled under her feet about someone needing to sweep before Jamie took her by the hand around the corner and up a narrow staircase disguised as a pantry. When he opened the door, she hadn't expected to find steps.

He shut the door behind them and pushed her in the back, saying, "Up! Up! Up!"

"Alright, alright, I'm goin'," she said, laughing, swinging around the railing and emerging into a carpeted hallway. She lifted her foot up from what appeared to be a nail polish stain, and frowned at it before Jamie caught up with her and directed her to what appeared to be a three-bedroom intersection. The space was cut triangularly, and on one of the diagonal walls stood a wooden door marked with Jamie's name on it. By the state of the hand prints, one of his siblings must have made it.

"After you," he said with a bow.

"Don't mind if I do," she said with a curtsey. She spun into the room, swinging her backpack down as she took in the state of Jamie-Lee's affairs.

Despite the state of the house, and the state of Jamie's mind, his room was... clean. She hadn't seen many guys' rooms before, and so it came as a pleasant surprise that someone like Jamie was able to maintain his own space. She dropped her backpack and duffle off on his bed and crossed her arms, mildly impressed.

"Wow, Berry, you sure know how to tidy up," she said.

"Just wait until Homecoming," he said. He winked and flashed her a pair of finger-guns, to which she rolled her eyes.

"Not you—your room!" she cried, thrusting her arms out at the place. "Even your desk is clean!"

"That would be because I don't use it," he said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He tipped his head to the side, and it took everything in Rosalie's power to keep from blushing at the sight of his dimples showing again. "Not everyone's a wannabe smarty-pants like you."

"Sh-Shut up," she said, raising her hands to her hair. She tugged her ponytail out as she asked, "So where's the bathroom?"

He pointed to a door across the room, adjacent to a pair of wide, floor-length windows. Before she could head over, though, Jamie ushered her over to his closet where he supplied a towel, tossing it over her head and frizzy curls. She laughed, brushing it out of her face as he started backing away to the door.

"I'll just... go tell my mom you're here. Let me know when you're done," he said. She stared after him as he all but fled from the room and shut the door behind him.

She smothered her face in her hands, wiping away the smile so she could get on with life and get over this dress fitting.

She tugged her cut-off tee over her head and followed it with her sweatpants. She stuffed them into her duffle before heading to the bathroom and locking herself in with the steam from the shower, and the scent of Jamie's shampoo between her fingers. She danced to Ariana Grande on her phone until the shampoo cleared away, and her pits smelled like Jamie's Ocean Breeze Body Shampoo. After shutting the water off and scrubbing herself dry, she lifted her arm to smell it and boy, did she need male body washes or what? That shit could clear out a dumpster in no time.

She shimmied into her underwear and tugged her sports bra over her head. She snapped on the elastic and wrapped the towel around her waist so she was at least halfway decent walking to her backpack for her school clothes.

She unzipped the duffle and sorted through her sweaty clothes for her pajamas from Pajama Day. In the midst of tearing out her plaid bottoms, the bedroom door swung open and banged against the wall.

Rosalie shrieked, spinning around, only to scream again when she found a green-haired gremlin standing there instead of Jamie. They both froze, only to scream their heads off again. The kid spun back around, yelling, "THERE'S A STRANGE NAKED WOMAN IN YOUR ROO—"

Jamie was already half-up the stairs when the screaming started, and bolted out into the hallway at the same time the kid ran without looking. They collided, and Jamie tipped forward, cursing as he lifted his sprained ankle out of the way. He tipped against the wall, clutching at his chest as his brother sprinted to his own room and locked himself behind it.

Jamie turned, wide-eyed, to Rosalie, who hadn't even bothered to coverup. She flung her arms out at her sides and cried, "Does this look naked to you?"

Jamie slapped his hand to his face and dragged it down his cheek. He walked in and shut the door behind him. "Well, now that my brother's scarred for life, I guess it doesn't matter."

"Well, you guys have sisters. It shouldn't matter," she said. She halted, swallowing hard as Jamie stepped closer. He didn't seem to be aiming for her, but it felt like it, and her mind was on fire, demanding that he turn a smidge to the left so that he'd be standing directly in front of her instead of her duffle.

He freed her pajama shirt from the turmoil, and turned. From the way his eyes widened, he hadn't expected to come within inches of Rosalie's face. Up close, she could see a blush rush over his freckled cheeks, wide, doe-eyes the picture of innocence. How was it possible that just earlier that same semester, he'd came within minutes of fucking Alyssa in her mom's bedroom?

Jamie clamped his mouth shut, a moment away from saying something along the lines of, "Here's your shirt." Rosalie pressed a hand over his, her fingers clutching to the fabric.

"Rosalie," he started, strained. He swallowed back whatever he was going to add to that, eyes drifting to her lips.

His hand left the shirt between her fingers, and just as she expected him to back away—that seemed to be a reoccurring habit of potential-kissers—he reached a hand up to graze his fingers against her cheek. With both hands, he pushed her wet hair away and tucked it behind her ears, and the fondness in his smile could have rendered her braindead. It felt like every circuit in her head was flaring off in sparks.

"Rosalie," he started again, intending to finish. "Your first kiss is important. I should respect that. I mean, do you really want to kiss me when you aren't wearing a shirt?"

"What's it matter?" she said, and he laughed. Damn him, his laugh was too contagious to resist. A faint smile took over the potential she had for feeling snubbed. Rejected. "What?"

He tipped forward, slowly, hesitating within centimeters from her face. His nose pressed to her cheek, and his lips came to rest there a moment later. He pulled away, pushing her hair back and giving her a pat on the head.

"Nothing," he said, dropping back onto the bed, He hooked an arm around the bedpost and rolled his eyes. "I also don't want Lennie or Joanna to beat me senseless. I already have a bum ankle, you know."

"As if they'd care."

"You'd be surprised," he sang, dropping back onto the comforter, arms over his head and all.

She took her clothes to the bathroom, and hesitated at the threshold. She looked back at him, and found him with his head propped up on his arm, smiling in her direction. She threw her arms down and groaned, "What? Why are you staring?"

"C'mon! Let me live a little. If I shouldn't kiss you, the least I can do is stare a lit—" She slammed the bathroom door before he could finish, but it did little to block out his hyena laughter.


________________


Homecoming weekend kicked off with a late Friday night football game and soccer match. The guys' team were almost always home for that match, but that year, the girls squared up against Stone Ridge on their home turf. Homecoming weekend was always a blur of excitement, exhaustion, and adrenaline after practice earlier that day for warm up, on top of classes throughout the week. Rosalie hadn't expected to be alive that evening she set foot beneath the stadium lights of the Bradshaw field, Knight blue socks snapped up to her knees.

Homecoming games were more of a spectacle than anything else. Students flocked between the fields, the stadiums filled with the smell of hot chocolate and popcorn beneath the shade of the forest flanking the soccer field. With the new stadium seating sprinkled with freshly fallen leaves, and the chill in the air, Rosalie could feel autumn in her bones and didn't mind one bit.

Their game started to the sound of the football stadiums roaring in the distance to the beat of Stone Ridge kicking off.

The ball went right and deflected back to one of the Stone Ridge defenders. Rosalie didn't get much farther than their center before the ball was headed in her direction where she collided with two of their forwards. The ball popped up and soared to Kim Simons, who twisted it around and danced it away from her ex-teammate, shooting it for Erin's opening. Despite what could have been a great play on Stone Ridge's part, they had never been much of anything. Truthfully, Rosalie suspected that Maguire scheduled a Stone Ridge match so Homecoming fans could cheer for a sure-fire win.

By halftime, the scoreboard ticked closer to 4-1, Knights' favor. Jade Dalby took control of the goal for this game, and so Rosalie met with Joanna on the sidelines during the break. Joanna sidled up beside her and bumped their shoulders together.

"C'mon Rosie, you and I both know you can go harder than this," she said, and Rosalie rolled her eyes away from where Joanna rolled her hips in a thrusting motion. The instant Brynn caught on, it turned into a grinding match that Rosalie walked away from in order to hydrate. As she sprayed water in her mouth, Joanna teased, "Thirsty hoe!"

"Alright, Spencer, that's enough," Maguire said, snapping her fingers at Joanna. Brynn, however, thrust her hips at the other team, and if they were going against higher maintenance players, they never would have returned the gesture. "Fox! What is the matter with you two? I swear everyone's hormones go off the walls during Homecoming."

Rosalie groaned under her breath, "Oh no..."

Joanna spread her middle finger and index finger into a V and dropped it between her hips. "You mean these walls?"

"Rosalie, control your mutt," Maguire demanded.

"What?! You brought her onto the team!" Rosalie whined, but Maguire was walking away to distract the referee from Joanna and Brynn. Rosalie shared a desperate look with Ray, who was grinning like the fiend she was on the bench.

Rosalie marched over and slapped Brynn's hands down. As the girl whined, Rosalie grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake. "Get ahold of yourself. Stop letting Joanna encourage your minuscule attention span," she demanded.

"We're not even in the game... what's it matter?" Brynn moaned, slumping to the side. She dropped her ass onto the bench and pouted. Rosalie scowled down at her before feeling something tug at her hair. Ahead of her, the sophomore started giggling.

She swung her hand back and managed to catch Joanna upside the head with it. Joanna shrieked, only to halt when Rosalie grabbed her by the wrists and shoved them away. "Stop messing with my ponytail!" she demanded. "No touching!"

Joanna's eyes widened, and were it not for the hyperactivity in her veins, Rosalie would have thought she'd gone too far. Thankfully, Joanna's attention span didn't call for embarrassment, or guilt for that matter. "Sure thing, oh Captain, my Captain," she said, and feigned a bow. Rosalie still had her wrists locked in her hands.

When Joanna popped back up Rosalie gave her a small shake and said, "The last thing I need is for you to get suspended from the next game because of unsportsmanlike conduct."

"Fine, okay, won't happen again," Joanna insisted. They stared each other down until Rosalie at last unclasped her fingers from around Joanna's wrists. She left faint red marks behind that didn't faze Joanna in the slightest.

The game started up again to the beat of We Will Rock You playing on the speakers. The stands started vibrating with stomping feet as Rosalie lined them up for the start. She strode to the middle where she found her opposing center lineman eyeing someone behind her. She glanced back at where Kim stood back on the field, determination setting her eyes narrowed and focused on her ex-high school teammates. Rosalie turned a sneer onto the center lineman and wondered what the fuck this skinny white girl did to piss Kim off so much.

At the sound of the whistle, Rosalie passed to Erin. They ran forward as one wave, spiraling around defenders and skimming open spaces where Stone Ridge girls attempted to close in. Erin popped the ball off high to Ray, giving her just enough time to break the opponents blocking her view of the goal. Ray sent a sharp pass after her, to the corner of the penalty box where she slammed the inside of her cleat against the stitches of the ball.

The ball shot like a bullet to the goalie's raised hands. It rocketed vertical, into the air as a crowd of Stone Ridge girls converged with the Knights. Rosalie dove in, ricocheting off of someone's shoulder as the ball came down. She aimed and slammed her head into it, ducking forward. She hit the ground on her arms, the momentum tearing her forward and skidding across the grass as the ball hit the goalie net.

The goalie tripped over her, cleat spikes tearing the softer skin on the back of her thigh. Rosalie cursed, staggering as she rolled up to her feet.

She turned, stunned, back to where Ray and Erin were coming at her, shrieking with excitement. They swept her up in their arms until she cried, "Guys! Guys! Ow, ow, not right now—"

"Shit, what happened?" Ray asked, pulling away. Erin looked down to the blood scorching a trail down the back of her knee and into the hem of her blue socks. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I think so," she said. She tried to mask her grimace with a tight-lipped smile as she limped forward and raised a hand to the referee.

Erin helped her off the field where she swapped out for Juliana. Juliana laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it a firm pat before heading out onto the field. The blood felt hot and sticky on Rosalie's leg, and she made the mistake of running a hand through it. Disgusted, she took a towel from Coach Maguire and started wiping down the gore on her leg. Erin left to hurry back out onto the field, which left Jordan and Joanna to tend to Rosalie's wound.

Maguire brought over the med kit, and Joanna pulled out a few butterfly bandages from the batch along with a disinfectant spray. She passed the spray to Erin, who, after cleaning up the blood, sprayed it over the patch.

Rosalie hissed and said, "Careful!"

"You'll survive," Joanna said as she pulled the adhesive paper off the first bandage. "They aren't huge cuts, but any cut on your thigh is gonna bleed like a bitch regardless. Here—" She passed it on to Erin, who applied it to the abrasions on Rosalie's leg.

She was hesitant to sit down after the bandages were applied. She could feel the heat from the wound swelling into bruises the longer she stayed down, so she paced up and down the sideline with Maguire, tense and frustrated that such a shitty mistake had happened in the game. Sure, she'd gotten scraped by cleats before, but it was never enough to take her out of a match.

On top of it, she'd have this goddamn bruise on display for Homecoming.

Rosalie put a hand to her face and sighed. Of course nothing could go as planned.


n/a: 

Lemme know if you also ship Jamealie XD 

Jamie-lie? 

Rosalee. 

FUCK THIS half the ship names are the same as the original names RIP ME. If you couldn't tell already, I ship them HARD almost as much as I ship Joanna and Rosalie XD


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