Take a Look At Yourself

The field was hot, hotter than usual. Of course Tennessee had to get a heat wave in mid-September. We were sweating bullets like sweating was going out of style. Water was on every yard line, and even Carmen wasn't talking up her normal level of shit.

After we had all witnessed her run and intentionally give herself track burn, most of let go of her being on the team. No one really doubted that she was strong. The woman was a sweeper in soccer, and after looking that position up, a lot of us had an appreciation for her endurance. Mike, on the other hand, had no sympathy. He still hated her, and the longer she was with us on the field, the more he hated her.

Carmen stared me down, noticing that I was looking at her. She had been distracting me at practice. I was the best wide receiver on the team, one of the reasons we were often as good as we were. But Carmen as making it hard to practice. She was just as sweaty as we were, but she looked really pretty.

"Sanders, please focus!" A ball hit my stomach. "We've got a game coming up, fucker!"

I nodded and continued to do our exercises. Why was this woman getting to me? She was annoying, baffling, and aggressive. And yet, here I was, wanting to be with her. It wasn't like I knew anything about her outside of that we got tatted at the same place. She was a freaking enigma.

"Dude, you keep staring at her," Brian said quietly. "I don't think she likes any of us. For all we know, she could be into women."

I laughed a little at that. "Do you think she swings that way?"

"I think she swings any way that she wants to swing." Brian started to stretch out his legs. With how hot it was, we were warmed up but our muscles didn't always show that. "Harrison seems like the type to surprise us all."

"HARRISON!" Coach Peterson began his battle of the wits with the soccer player. "GET OFF THE FUCKING BENCH!"

Her eyes flashed as she slowly stood up from the bench. She carefully walked over to the offensive players and sniffed. Shaking out her arms, she eased herself onto the grass and lay there. We all stared at her, eyebrows furrowed.

"What... what are you doing?" Zacky asked. She was right in the way of where we were supposed to be running.

"ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME, HARRISON?! GET OFF THE GRASS! WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?" Peterson headed our way, literal steam coming out of his ears.

We all scattered, leaving the little soccer player alone with a very pissed off former football player. I had never seen him like this, not even when we had found out Carmen would be joining our team. The coaches had been just as upset as the players. Having a female on the team was a liability and more a punishment for us than for her.

I think when the council made their decision, they had no ideas the lengths Harrison would go to make all of our lives as miserable as she felt. She was succeeding, and Peterson was the one suffering the most.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her up. We all watched in semi-fascination as Harrison's entire body went limp. The aggressive person we were all used to had turned into a limp body. Peterson stared at her, horror written all over his face. He released her arm and Carmen dropped to the grass.

Once she hit the field, we watched her curl into herself. Her arms wrapped around her knees and she rolled as far as she could from Peterson. He just stared at her, not entirely sure what happened. His eyes met mine.

"What... what is going on?" His voice was quiet, worry taking over.

"I have no idea, Coach," I said and softly walked over to the ball on our grass. Ever so slowly, I lowered down so I was crouching near her.

Carmen flinched when my hand touched her back so I pulled it away. "Hey, are you okay?"

Her blue eyes were red as she turned to me. "I want to go back to my apartment." She looked at the grass. "Please, I need off this field."

Turning to coach, I motioned for her to come over. "Coach, she needs to go home."

He looked at me. "Why?" He still seemed scared, wondering what he had done to make her like this. This was not the Carmen we had come to know.

"Harrison, you gotta tell me what's going on," I said softly.

"I need to go home," she said, her form pulling closer into itself.

"Take her home, Sanders." Peterson pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't have time for this."
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Carmen was still unable to move. I'd had to carry her off the field. Once we were at her apartment, she had stayed curled into a ball, just on her couch. She was sweaty and gross but didn't even look like she wanted to take a shower.

"Seriously, what's going on?" I asked, worry taking over me now.

She turned to me. "You aren't a friend, and you're barely a teammate. Thanks for getting me, now leave me alone."

I left slowly. What had happened to her? Why was she being like this?

Notes

Welllll an update for you.