Thi gives me a knowing look, his blue eyes glistening despite the thick clouds layering overhead. “How are they ever going to find their team spirit if you can't even eat with them?” I purse my lips, twisting my head to speak into his ear.
“I don't like these people.”
“Spoken like a true captain,” Thiago laughs, locating a spot on the edge of the blanket for it. It’s conveniently compact, meaning I have to press close to Thi and Everest can’t say anything about it. I settle into his side, opening my paper bag and digging through the contents. Thi is handed his own by one of the IT guys, Tyler I believe, and everyone settles into light conversation and the enjoyable comfort of well-earned food. All except Everest, who hangs back, assessing the situation carefully. He’s glaring, not eating, and definitely brooding.
“Come on then, Meg,” Samson breaks through the low noise. I search for him amongst the faces, discovering he’s lying on his side and taking up most of the room across the other side of the blankets. “Introduce us to your friend.”
I almost blush, needing a sip of my coffee for courage against the eyes all suddenly looking our way. Glancing at him, Thi’s brows bob and he takes the cup from my hands.
“This is Thiago, he’s new here. He’s into tech and video games, is the definition of OTT and has probably bribed all of the IT guys to be here.” There’s a round of agreement that confirms my suspicions.
“Everyone has a price,” Thiago raises my coffee, tipping it in Everest’s direction before taking a sip of his own. I nudge him, shaking my head as I take a bite of my sandwich. A few of the team have follow up questions that Thi dodges excellently. How did we meet, why has he transferred in so late, what’s his plans for the future. Throughout it all, Claire has started to nudge closer, as if I wouldn’t notice just because my mouth is full.
She settles a few feet away, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of a paper bag as she pretends to be invested in a conversation Thiago is steering. I let it happen, fully invested in my lunch, figuring I need to become comfortable in her presence at some point.
Thiago, though, notices the shift in my posture and my withdrawal immediately. Without missing a beat, he leans forward and offers out his hand.
“Hey, Thiago Soares. And you are?”
Claire startles slightly, her eyes flicking to me on instinct before darting back to him, caught off guard by Thiago’s forwardness. I’m sure to everyone here, Thiago must seem like the most casual, at ease guy in public settings. If only they knew he’s going to head back to this gaming chair after this and probably not surface for a few days.
“Claire,” she replies, shaking his hand. Knowing Thi, he’s already done a deep dive into everyone on this field, knowing everything from their shoe size to their grandmother’s maiden names.
“Ahh, yes. Meg’s told me all about you.” Thi grins, drawing back to bump shoulders with me.
“I have?” I frown, at the same time that Claire asks, “She has?”
“Oh yeah. You were her co-captain for the women’s team, right? She told me about that game against Asher Ridge. You scored off a broken play in the last ten seconds,” Thiago relays smoothly, as if he’s spent the morning watching back old footage of our previous games. Claire’s brows lift, her lips parting slightly in surprise as the memory hits her.
“Y-yeah, that’s right. We had our set all planned, but Asher Ridge double-teamed Meg before she could even turn. I already had a defender on my ass but there was the smallest opening, and I took it. The buzzer went just as the ball hit the net.”
“You didn’t hesitate that day,” I comment dryly. Silence settles briefly, then Claire huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. She’s trying to downplay it, but it was a hell of a win. I couldn’t be prouder at the time, and a sliver of that feeling cracks through the barrier I’ve been forcing between us.
“Okay,” she mutters, glancing between us. “When you say it like that, it sounds a lot more impressive than it was.”
“That’s because you’re not giving yourself enough credit,” Thiago shoots back easily. “You’ve got the speed, the control, and the instinct. You just need to trust it and simply take the shot when it’s there.” Thiago winks, and Claire blushes. Her hand is steadier around her cup now, and she’s grinning. In fact, her whole face has lit up with a renewed confidence. I allow a small uplifting smile to slip though, backing Thi’s assessment.
Beyond Claire’s head, Everest turns on his heel and storms away. I only watch long enough to see him use his foot to click the stick up to his hand and start running drills by himself. Tension clings to his bunched shoulders, the need to expel frustration driving him to seek physical exertion. I could spend all my time walking on eggshells, wondering how to improve Everest’s mood, and I still wouldn’t be able to achieve it. His demons are his own, whatever they may be.
Turning back to the group gathered on the ground, I observe the shift in atmosphere. Claire has entered a conversation with Danny about the Autumn Formal, while Samson claps one of the IT guys on the back a little too hard, and laughter, actual laughter, ripples through the group. It’s a sight to behold and one I couldn’t have achieved by myself.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I say quietly, slanting myself closer to Thiago. I glance up at him, his tightly curled hair and blue eyes, his smug grin and dimples. Not caring for our audience, his hand lifts to stroke my cheek tenderly.
“I know,” he shrugs lightly, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “But I wanted you to see that it doesn’t have to be one or the other. You don’t need to divide your world down the middle, I’m happy to merge.”
I huff out a quiet laugh, leaning into the warmth of his hand, my shoulder brushing his chest as if it’s the most natural place to be.
“Oh, you’ve merged alright. Infused yourself right in the center of my life.”
“Are you mad at that?” Thi bobs a brow, his eyes catching the light in that way that always makes him look like he’s three steps ahead of everyone else. I shake my head softly this time, my fingers absently catching on the sleeve of his hoodie, carving his closeness.
“Not in the slightest.” I mean it, which is terrifying. Somewhere between late-night games and voice notes and him just showing up, Thi has threaded himself into gaps I didn’t even realize were there, slipping past defenses I’ve spent years perfecting with far too much ease. It should scare the shit out of me, but it doesn’t.
There’s no pressure with him, no expectation to perform or recover quicker. Thi just takes what I can give and somehow makes me feel like I’m enough, even on days like today where everything is off-balance. It would be so easy to fall for him completely, to let him blur the edges until there’s no line between Meg the player, Meg the problem, Meg the girl just trying to hold herself together.
The air shifts before long, thickening with that damp, metallic scent that comes right before rain. I catch it just before the first drop lands against my cheek, another dotting against my arm, then my lashes and the back of my hand. Around us, the team groans in unison, reality snapping back into place as people scramble into motion, grabbing discarded wrappers andempty cups. Shoving them back into bags, they’re passed off to the IT guys who suddenly become aware that they’re standing in the middle of a sports team about to get soaked.
“Come on, team, a little rain never stopped us before,” I call out, raising my voice over the shift in noise, clapping my hands once to pull their attention back in. A few heads turn, reluctant but listening. “There’s a box of donuts for whoever can get the ball from Everest first. Get to it!”
