95 | No Harm, No Foul

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a/n: Enjoy this 9.2k of saucy, saucy goodness :)


"It's hard to say. His parents haven't said much and I've just—I've been, uh, busy with moving and shit but—God, Pittmen, this is just—"

"I know. I know."

"Oh, God. Fuck—I can't—It could have been any of us, you know? Going to—to college with fucking—athletic scholarships or whatever the fuck. How did this even happen? How did he—?"

"I don't know, Hartwood. I dunno."

"Is Berry there?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's here. He's—"

"How's he holding up? Not too great, yeah, I get it. I get it. Tell him I'll... I'll keep him posted. Yeah, I'm going back tomorrow morning. I think he's going in for surgery at six tonight. It's gonna take, like, five hours."

"Jesus Christ. Okay, well, we'll talk to you tomorrow. Give his parents our best, if you see 'em. The entire soccer team's routing for him from the Midwest."

"Yeah. Sure. We'll talk later, Pittmen. Stay safe out there."


___


It's not our fault. It's not our fault.

The mantra felt redundant now, and it lost its luster fast. It dulled, muted, and turned numb in Rosalie's brain that night as they waited to hear something—anything—through Jamie-Lee's Facebook feed. He was the only one of them that had Dylan's moms added, and it seemed like the most likely place for a parent to update the community on their son's condition.

Rosalie's stomach churned at the sight of their timelines, though—riddled with kind words, thoughts and prayers, directed towards Dylan Cox.

"I know this isn't an ideal time," Coach Maguire said that night as Rosalie and Ray lingered in Coach Maguire's hotel room. Ray was seated on the TV stand and Rosalie had her arms crossed, her back to the wall, staring at the floor.

Ray clasped her hands between her parted knees, her elbows perched on her thighs. She put her closed hands to her mouth and said, "What do we do? Most of us barely knew him and the underclassmen are crying about it. It's stupid. Why are we—?"

"It's close to home because it could happen to any one of us," Coach said, and Rosalie wanted to say, He was handpicked. This couldn't have happened to just anyone. "And Cox is a great kid. Even in a school of three thousand kids he made a name for himself on the football team. We all knew him, one way or another. We need to keep the team together on this. Every second counts before tomorrow, which is why I've made reservations."

Ray lowered her hands from her mouth. Rosalie looked up from the floor and said, "Reservations? I thought we were ordering takeout."

Coach sighed and said, "Well, I changed my mind. Of course the team is going to mope if they're given the time and space for it. We can't let idle minds dawdle, so you two are going to help me round up the girls. Everyone needs to be at the lobby by five."

With that, Coach started towards the door. Rosalie blinked once, twice, three times before looking back at Ray, who was still perched on the TV stand, frozen solid. Their eyes met just before Coach opened the door, snapped her fingers, and said, "Alright ladies, what'd I just say about idle minds! Hop to it!"

"R-Right! Sorry, Coach," Rosalie said, skittering forward. She reached over to take Ray by the arm and haul her to her feet. She pushed ray ahead of her through the open door. Coach followed shortly after and, out in the hall, Coach put a hand on Rosalie's shoulder, stilling her in the middle of the hallway.

Rosalie glanced down at Coach's hand before meeting her eyes. There were very few times that Coach managed to look her age, and those were limited to severe frustration (usually with Joanna Spencer) and now, faced with the grief flooding through the ranks of her team.

Coach gave her shoulder a squeeze and said, "Don't look so guilty, Mason. You're doing everything as right as you can."

Rosalie stared up at her, speechless. She looked to her feet so she wouldn't have to see the age creasing Coach's forehead, or the lines where Coach's smile went dormant. "I don't—" she started.

"You are," Coach insisted. Rosalie licked her bottom lip where it quivered just a fraction, barely restraining the guilt Coach Maguire could see so clearly. "You've inspired the girls this long. Keep at it for just a few more days. We've gotch a match tomorrow that isn't going to wait for us. Cox will be waiting at the end of it, alright? Trust me on this."

It never ceased to surprise Rosalie when people knew just what to say. How could they know her so well to understand precisely what she needed to hear? The answers were so obvious to her—that if Dylan Cox was still alive now so many hours after the accident, he would likely still be alive after the weekend was over—but all she needed was to hear them spoken aloud. Sure, there could be complications, but that was what optimism was for.

And Arden Dodge could only succeed if they gave in to pessimism.

Rosalie lurched forward, her arms wrapping around Coach's shoulders. Coach swayed with a soft laugh, her hands hesitating to pat Rosalie's back as she said, "Thanks, Coach. We'll... We'll get everyone to the lobby by five."

Rosalie turned on her heels, back to where Ray was waiting for her just down the hall. She jogged to catch up and, as the two of them went door-to-door rousing their teammates, Coach Maguire put a hand to her blonde ponytail and sighed.

She was their superior, so she had to ensure that her students felt comfortable and accounted for. It was because of this that she thought back to Dylan's insistence on being a team manager, and she couldn't help but wonder if this ever would have happened as she agreed to let him join the team's administration. Dylan's accident may not have been Coach Maguire's fault, but she surely could have prevented it, and that was all it took to feel the guilt.


___

17:05 DREW: Are you okay?

17:15 ROSALIE: Yes I'm fine why do you ask?

17:15 DREW: Darling might have filled me in

17:16 ROSALIE: Ah of course she did

17:16 ROSALIE: And I take it she has more information than any of us currently do

17:16 DREW: I'm not at liberty to say, unfortunately

17:17 ROSALIE: You do realize now would be an EXCELLENT opportunity to show that you have SOME level of empathy

17:17 DREW: Ooh harsh

17:17 DREW: Please, continue to maim me with your words, Rosie

17:17 ROSALIE: Well clearly there are lives at stake

17:17 ROSALIE: Or dare I ask if you had something to do with the leak?

17:18 DREW: I know what's at stake

17:18 DREW: I found that out when you got your scar

17:18 DREW: And I hate to bring that up but then again, that was clearly evidence that your life is NOT at stake

17:19 ROSALIE: And why would that matter?

17:19 ROSALIE: It is at stake

17:19 DREW: It isn't

17:19 ROSALIE: I don't believe you

17:20 DREW: I don't think it'd be at stake until USW

17:20 DREW: And by then we'll practically be neighbors

17:20 ROSALIE: Ah I see

17:20 ROSALIE: So you're going to play Knight In Shining Armor

17:20 DREW: Guilty 😜

17:20 ROSALIE: And USW is to make sure Joanna gets there first

17:20 DREW: And then all bets are off

17:21 DREW: Sticky situation indeed

17:21 DREW: Darling wants you to know something

17:22 ROSALIE: What is it

17:22 DREW: That you're strike one and three

17:22 DREW: And that Annette is the final blow

17:23 ROSALIE: ??

17:23 ROSALIE: Who's Annette?

17:23 DREW: I don't know

17:23 DREW: Darling doesn't know either

17:24 ROSALIE: Why are you telling me this?

17:24 DREW: I thought it was interesting

17:24 DREW: Figured I'd share

17:26 ROSALIE: How generious of you

17:26 DREW: Also it's better that you know

17:26 DREW: I'm under the impression that 'ignorance is bliss' is in short supply these days for our dear Spencer

17:45 DREW: Sorry

___


Joanna didn't speak. She didn't speak as she left her hotel room and left Rosalie to tag along at her own free will. She didn't speak on the bus ride over to the restaurant. She didn't speak as everyone gathered at their table reservation and took their seats.

And since Joanna didn't instigate, Rosalie didn't know what to say, and therefore, didn't speak. She watched Joanna cautiously from the corner of her eye as she sat beside her, appearances be damned. She glanced across the table at Juliana, who sat alongside Ray, her brows drawn up in a look of absolute concern Rosalie had never seen her use for Joanna before then.

"How... many more hours until the Lieutenant gets here?" Juliana asked.

Rosalie was keeping count. "She'll probably be at the hotel when we get back," she said.

Juliana nodded. They both looked at Joanna, who sat stiff in her chair, her forearms pressed to the table on either side of her plate. She had her fists clenched against the table cloth, her eyes focusing anywhere but the people sitting around her.

Since they came with a team of over two dozen people, the restaurant had them split among three massive tables. The graduated section of the class was all stationed at one with Coach Maguire at the head of the table.

Joanna put her hand to her lips. She glanced at Rosalie, who startled at the sudden movement from an otherwise motionless victim deemed dead at the scene.

"This is stupid," Joanna said as she leant back in her chair, an arm folded over her stomach. She propped her foot up on the edge of her chair and pushed back from the table, lingering on the back two legs of her chair.

Beside her, Jamie-Lee put a hand back to catch her chair in case she fell.

"It's not stupid," Rosalie said, quietly. She looked to her hands and said, "It's unfortunate."

"That makes it sound like an accident," she said.

"We know it isn't," Rosalie said, glancing at her friends across the table. They were all watching silently, unsure how to broach the subject without angering Joanna in the process.

"I shouldn't have come," Joanna said.

"She's trying to alienate you," Rosalie stressed, putting her hands to the table. She looked over at Joanna, who narrowed her eyes, looking at Rosalie through the corner of them. She sneered a little and looked away.

"Oh, so just because you had this grand plan to show her who's boss suddenly means you know how she thinks, is that it?" Joanna said.

"I'm not trying to show her that we're—" Rosalie groaned, rolling her eyes. Her attention came back to Joanna, though, as she said, "She's acting like a spoilt child. We can't give her what she wants just because she throws a tantrum."

"A tantrum," Joanna repeated, her chair snapping forward with a bang that startled Jamie-Lee into squeaking, "Jesus Christ—". Juliana jumped, a hand flying up to her heart. Joanna propped her hand on the edge of the table and pinned Rosalie with a murderous scowl. "This isn't just a tantrum—"

"It is if you think about it for one second," Rosalie insisted, but there was so much she couldn't articulate. Even if she was given the time, she wasn't sure she ever could have made Joanna understand. Joanna's bias on the matter clouded her thinking into a spiral of torture—of punishment at the hands of Arden.

But Rosalie didn't see it as a punishment, not entirely, despite what Drew had said. Arden was limiting herself to four tantrums, and they were on the second. Nora Jacobs merely started the countdown, and Rosalie wondered why someone named Annette had that much power over both Joanna and Arden.

Arden wants to preserve a little of Joanna's mental state, Rosalie rationalized. Whoever Annette is would ruin that, but at the very least, Arden would have gotten what she wanted. Perhaps Annette would render Joanna into perfect submission.

Instead of saying all of that, however, Coach Maguire stood up at the far side of their table. Rosalie expected her to clink her glass, but instead, Coach put her fingers to her lips and whistled loud enough to shatter a glass rather than clink it.

Jamie-Lee nearly screamed. He put his hand to his mouth, and then his cheek, thoroughly flustered. Beside him, Lennie gave his shoulder a soft pat for comfort.

"Ladies, ladies, if I could get your attention up here," Coach said, and when the two boys in the group came to attention, she waved a dismissive hand at them and said, "Berry, Pittmen, this isn't for you."

"Ouch," Ray teased with a grin, propping her chin on her hand. Lennie gave her a sour look before she kicked him in the shin. He playfully kicked her back until Alyssa groaned and muttered, "Enough with the footsie, Jesus..."

"It's been a long season—for all of us," Coach Maguire said, and as she did so, she pulled from her pocket a piece of paper and a pair of reading glasses. Brynn snickered, glancing back at Rosalie, who shrugged. She expected Coach to make a speech, but not over dinner, and certainly not with an entire laundry list. "It's been so long, so I had to write shit down. If you guys would have sucked this year, I wouldn't have so much to say, so here we go."

"Great start, Coach!" Brynn cheered, and the underclassmen table giggled and snickered behind their hands as Coach cast a glare over the lot of them. The giggling effectively neutralized the static ruminating in the air from Dylan's condition, and Rosalie found herself relaxing, just a touch, at the familiar banter between her teammates.

"In case you all forgot, it's been over five years since the Knights beat the Lions," Coach said, a hand on her hip. "I don't expect you freshmen to know the kind of hell—pardon my language—we've been through at conferences, and we couldn't have done it without A) my excellent leadership—" to which a laugh went through the room, "—and B) our new recruits from JV and other schools. Starting with the freshmen—all of you, please stand."

Amidst the freshmen, Kim Simons stood up, and remained standing with her hands clasped tightly together in front of her. The JV recruits joined them next, among which included Jordan and Erin, who earned whistles of encouragement from their sophomore friends.

Coach went through the list of new, impressive stats from the new recruits accumulated from summer scrimmages the previous year and games in which they participated. Kim was awarded praise for her performace at the Stone Ridge match during conference, and Erin, likewise, retained her position on the primary team—this time as centerfield.

"—On that note, Jordan will be continuing as a right wing striker next semester, and Elgin will be left wing. Brynn will also be continuing as right defender, and Dalby will continue as our keeper. Should everything go according to plan, that is. Avoid injuries, if you can, ladies. Or in Dalby's case—try to avoid another concussion, please," Coach said. At the mention of their names, those designated students popped up from their seats to smile bashfully (or rather enthusiastically in Brynn's case). Mia Elgin gave the crowd a princess-like wave, and the underclassmen whooped and hollered for Brynn when she started to floss until Coach told her to cut that shit out or so help her God...

It didn't take long for the rounds to reach the graduating class of Bradshaw, but when it did, Coach turned her sights onto their table. Rosalie swallowed hard against the knot at the back of her throat. Graduating wasn't nearly so sentimental as her last and final round with the Knights.

Nationals had overshadowed every lingering shred of resistence Rosalie had when it came to soccer. Her world revolved around it, no matter what her valedictorian status declared. The significance of graduating was dampened by the fact that Nationals had yet to happen, and that her strings with Bradshaw weren't quite cut because of it.

"Now," Coach said with a gentle sigh, and Rosalie took that chance to breathe, just a little. "I know you girls aren't looking to be coddled or any of that. I'll only be your coach for another three days, so you won't have to deal with me again after that.

"And not to brag or anything of that sort, but I feel partially responsible for those of you continuing to compete at the collegiate level. Well, I shouldn't say I'm the only one responsible. I'd like to think that the team convinced the lot of you to keep at it because you're all strong as a team. You girls lift each other up, from what I've seen. And maybe that's all just a facade you all put on in front of me, but something tells me that just isn't it.

"But the reasons you have for continuing into soccer—I hope it's because the Knights convinced you that you don't need us to succeed. That you're capable of being incredible players on your own terms and your own fields. It just goes to show that the Knights weren't and aren't incredible just because we're a team. It's because our team is made up of equally incredible players.

"On that note, I'd like to present you all with our thanks for continuing the tradition and taking a piece of the Knights with you to your university. That's it. That's all I've got." Coach put her glass in the air for a makeshift toast and took a sip as the a round of applause passed through the underclassmen while the graduating class all grew flustered under the attention. Joanna pulled her shirt up over her nose and Alyssa put her hand against her temple, using it as a makeshift blinder to put their team out of sight, out of mind.

———

When the Lieutenant arrived with reservations at a different hotel, Joanna took her bags, pulled on her shoes, stuffed her red hair into a cap, and left the hotel in the back of the Lieutenant's car. Before she could escape, however, Brynn came skidding into Rosalie's room to alert her of the change in plans.

Rosalie expected Joanna to stay with the Lieutenant over the weekend—she just didn't know when it would occur. Evidently, the Lieutenant had Joanna's room number ever since room assignments were sent out after the reservations were made in preparation for Nationals, and she showed up out of the blue just five minutes ago.

Rosalie lunged from her bed, hopped to her feet, and hurried through the door. "Thanks for telling me," she said to Brynn, who was out of breath from the run. Brynn slumped against the side of the door, fake-swooning, as Juliana and Alyssa shared a bizarre look from where they were reclined on one of the double beds in that room.

Alyssa turned onto her stomach, ankles crossed over her bum, and propped her cheek on her hand. Juliana pursed her lips at Brynn and asked, "Do... you guys remember what happened at State?"

Alyssa sighed dramatically, swiping through Instagram. "You know I don't pay attention..." she droned with a roll of her eyes.

Juliana slapped her hands down and said, "When Rosalie had that—! Ugh, I can't even say it."

Alyssa put down her phone,

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