Page 46 of A Shot at Love
It was nice to revisit that time in her life, to discuss where she thought the team was in its current state, the chances she thought they had to medal at the next women’s world championships against a frighteningly strong American side.
“We still have some of the best veterans in the sport on our team and our captain deserves to have her number retired alongside her when she steps away from the game,” she’d said, “but our biggest downfall is our lack of young talent. The Americans have thrived because they’ve been willing to take chances on their collegiate athletes in ways our team hasn’t. I personally don’t understand the reluctance but I’m not the coach so…”
Jules – 11:57PM
Sorryyyyy. I got sucked into playing a game of beer pong with a bunch of college kids disguised as professional athletes. But it’s almost midnight now.
Frankie – 11:57PM
You can’t say you played beer pong without telling me who won…
Jules – 11:58PM
Obviously I did….does that surprise you?
Frankie – 11:58PM
A lot of things about you surprise me but that is not one of them.
Jules – 11:59PM
What surprises you about me?
The clock struck midnight and above Frankie, confetti cannons burst, raining colourful strips of paper and glitter down on everyone in the room. Cheersrang out as the DJ played Auld Lang Syne and a chorus of out of tune voices all sang along, champagne glasses clinked together, and Frankie did her best to seem as excited as everyone else around her.
Frankie – 12:00AM
Happy New Years, Jules.
I hope this year is kind to you.
Chapter 22
So maybe she was a little bit drunk. She’d been at a party, she had fun with her brother and his teammates, and she missed Frankie. And all of that meant she was a little…looser…when it came to texting but Frankie didn’t seem to mind.
In fact, Frankie seemed like a willing participant in whatever game they’d started to play and it spurred Jules on, made her want to test the water, to press her luck and see just how many cards Frankie was willing to reveal.
Between ‘what else have you noticed?’ and ‘a lot of things about you surprise me’, Jules was certain it wasn’t one sided but when she woke up in her bed, squinting from the brightness of the sun pouring in because she’d gotten home late and fallen into her bed, she still second guessed every single word she’d sent.
“Ughhhh,” she groaned, flinging an arm over her face to block out the light. Her head pounded from the drinks she’d stupidly allowed herself to indulge in and it reminded her of why when she did drink, she always did her best to keep it to a one or two drink limit. One whiteclaw had turned into two and two whiteclaws had turned into beer.
“You don’t need to travel anywhere tomorrow,” Cam had said as he handed her a sweating beer bottle. “Live a little, Jules. It’s New Years!”
Her brother had nursed one beer all night and allowed himself a glass of champagne when the clock hit twelve and that was it. Their beer pong cups were filled with water, though you wouldn’t know it based on the noise and the rowdiness that filled Mason’s new home, and it would be the partners of the athletes who were suffering the most this morning.
Jules slotted into that category and she rolled onto her stomach then grimaced and scrambled off the bed, making a beeline to her ensuite washroom.
After spending an embarrassingly long amount of time with her forehead pressed against the cold tile in the shower as the hot water worked over her hungover body, she pulled on a clean pair of yoga pants and an old long sleeve shirt she’d stolen from her brothers closet years earlier then made herself a well earned cup of coffee and some toast.
She hadn’t replied to Frankie’s last text hours earlier, never wished her a happy new year in return, because the message felt final. It felt like if they were going to have another conversation, it would be on a different day with the flirtatious messages of the last time they spoke forgotten.
And suddenly it was a month later and just like their almost kiss at the pond, the conversation on new years eve had never come up again. She and Frankie had seen each other a lot over the span of the previous few weeks, had gone to see a movie and whispered to each other from their seats at the back, criticizing the story playing out on screen while receiving glares from other theatre goers.
They’d gone for coffee dates and dinner dates, browsed the stacks of the local indie bookstore where Jules bought Frankie a copy of her favourite sapphic book, Written in the Stars.
”Bellefleur is such a good author. Elle and Darcy in this book? Ugh, Frankie. You will love them. Elle is so sweet and Darcy is absolutely swoonworthy.”
And so what if Jules was a blonde like Elle and Frankie was a pretty redhead just like Darcy? That didn’t mean anything at all. At least that's what Jules told herself.
