Fallen Elements (12 page)

As Greg was explaining how Leah and Pam
should join them after the game for the ceremonial outing to
Kislings for beer and wings, Ryan was trying to figure out if Leah
and Pam were seeing each other.

Midway through her scrutiny of the two
women’s body language, Ryan realized Leah was looking directly at
her, an amused expression on her face.

“Sorry, what?” Ryan felt a flush of
embarrassment.

Leah nodded toward the field. “I was saying
we won’t miss you out there, you’re practically glowing in the
dark.”

Ryan frowned. Pink was never her color, and
with the cold weather she had been forced to wear a pair of black
sweat pants, and a black thermal shirt under her team jersey. She
felt incredibly frumpy. “I’m not sure what my signature color is,
but I can effectively eliminate magenta.”

Leah and Pam laughed as Leah absently
squeezed Ryan’s shoulder. “You’re positively radiant.” The blonde
teased.

“Let’s go, Kittens!” Philip yelled from the
field.

Greg and Nicole said their goodbyes, with
assurances Pam and Leah would be joining them after the game. Ryan
turned to follow her friends down the bleachers and was stopped
when Leah grabbed her hand. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Ryan looked at their hands. Leah’s touch was
warm in spite of the chill in the air. “Thanks for coming.” Not
wanting to be rude, Ryan looked up at Pam. “Ready to see how we do
it in Baltimore?”

Pam laughed. “Impress me.”

Ryan trotted down to join her team on the
field. Everyone was handed a flag belt with three flags each, and
the referee called Philip, the Kittens’ captain, and the captain of
the opposing team, Touchdown My Pants, to the center of the field
for the coin toss.

“She’s attractive.” Greg was standing next to
Ryan as they waited for the outcome of the toss.

“Yea, she is.” Ryan struggled to sound
casual.

“Is she with Pam?”

The idea of Leah being with anyone made Ryan
feel possessive. She hated that was where her head went, and she
worked hard to push the irrational irritation out of her voice when
she answered Greg. “I’m not sure. You should ask her after the
game.”

Greg’s eyes narrowed. “Would I be asking for
me - or for you?”

Ryan chewed nervously at her lower lip.
“Think of it as killing two birds with one stone.” Not waiting for
what she was sure would be a pithy and sarcastic comment, Ryan ran
out on the field and took her position. She casually glanced up at
the bleachers. Leah and Pam were talking, and to Ryan’s dismay, not
paying any attention to the field.

Don’t be a petulant child. The game hasn’t
even started yet.
Ryan chastised herself.

The whistle blew and in lieu of a kickoff,
the Touchdowns threw the ball into the Kittens’ backfield. Henry
Lancaster, a twenty-something who drove a delivery truck for FedEx,
caught the ball, and ran forward only to have his flag pulled near
the fifteen yard line.

The Kittens huddled up, and Greg, who usually
quarterbacked, instructed the team. “Ryan and Henry, you two go
long. Let’s start off with a bang.”

The players took their places, Ryan breaking
into a sprint as the ball was hiked to Greg. The football came
spiraling toward her, and catching it, Ryan ran the remaining
length of the field to score the game’s first goal.

Applause and cheers erupted from Ryan’s
teammates and the spectators. Ryan looked up to see Pam and Leah
standing, both women clapping furiously.

“Great job Myers!” Several of Ryan’s
teammates high-fived her as she jogged off the field.

The game moved along, the Touchdowns scoring,
and then the Kittens countering. It was near the end of the game,
the Kittens were down by a touchdown, and Greg had decided to run
the same play as their first.

Ryan blew into her hands to warm them as she
waited for the ball to be snapped. She was pretty pleased with her
performance. She had scored the opening touchdown, and had racked
up a fair number of yards. She looked out of the side of her eye,
hopeful Leah was enjoying the game.

Pam and Leah sat huddled together, the
temperature having dipped slightly during the game. Catching Ryan’s
eye, Leah waved and gave Ryan a thumbs-up. Imagining what it would
be like to date Leah, Ryan nearly missed her cue to run down the
field.

Sprinting as she had at the beginning of the
game, Ryan pulled deep breaths into her lungs, her legs working
overtime. Unlike the first play, a Touchdowns player kept pace with
her. Slowing down and turning to see the football spiraling toward
her, Ryan and the other player both jumped simultaneously into the
air.

A hard jolt, followed by a stab of pain
across the lower half of her face, sent Ryan crashing to the ground
with a loud thud. The wind had been knocked out of her, and for a
split second, Ryan thought she was going to pass out.

“Ryan! Are you okay?” Nicole was gently
rolling her over, a concerned look on her friend’s face.

Ryan coughed, and a rush of air filled her
lungs. “What happened?”

Greg and the rest of the Kittens were now
gathered around. “You missed the ball.” Greg kidded. “Oh, and you
took an elbow to the lip by the looks of it.”

Ryan reached her hand up, and carefully poked
at her lower lip. “Ouch!” She winced at the stab of pain, and her
eyes widened when she pulled her finger back to see the tip coated
in bright red blood. “Shit.”

“Shit is right, my friend.” Greg took Ryan’s
hand and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get you to the sideline and
get some ice put on that.”

Ryan nodded, and lifted her head in hopes
that a deep breath would clear away the lingering wooziness the
collision had caused. “How’s the other guy?” She looked around, but
before anyone could answer, Ivan Ferguson was standing in front of
her.

Ivan was a little over six feet tall, thin
with closely cropped brown hair. “Christ, Ryan - I’m so sorry.” The
worried look on the man’s face made Ryan want to comfort him.

“No worries, Ivan.” Ryan managed to smile in
spite of the pain in her lower lip.

“Let’s wrap this up!” The referee yelled from
the center of the field. The Kittens still had one more down to
score on, and Ryan hurried to the sideline, not wanting to delay
the game any further.

Sitting down in one of the folding chairs
that lined the field, Ryan reached for the cooler to her left for
some ice.

“Let me help.” Leah’s voice came from next to
Ryan, the woman having crouched down near her.

Ryan’s eyes widened. “Thanks.”

Leah inched around so she was kneeling in
front of Ryan. “Does it hurt?” She reached for Ryan’s face, but
then seemed to think better of it, and let her hands fall to her
side.

“No, actually, but how awful did I look
hurling myself through the air like that?” Ryan was working to
squelch her embarrassment, along with the throbbing that was
spreading across her chin.

Leah smiled as she opened the cooler and
pulled one of the premade ice packs out. Looking at Ryan’s swollen
lip, she grimaced. “You don’t want to know.”

Ryan laughed, amused by Leah’s candor. “I
promised you and Pam a good show.” Ryan watched as Leah carefully
wrapped the ice pack in a clean white towel. “Speaking of, where is
Pam?”

Leah handed Ryan the ice pack. “She had to
use the ladies’ room, but don’t worry, she saw everything.”

Ryan carefully placed the pack on her mouth.
“Splendid.”

Leah stood up, and looking down at Ryan,
smiled. “You’re really very good. You know, up to the point of
unconsciousness.”

Ryan smiled from behind her block of ice.
“The Myers women have always been creatures of extremes.”

Leah’s smile faded, and she looked down at
the ground. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

Ryan knew this was no place to start the
conversation about her mother, but her brain seemed unwilling to
let the opportunity pass. “Leah, did you -”

“Hell of a hit you took there, Ryan.” Pam
seemed to materialize out of nowhere, and the moment between Leah
and Ryan passed.

“I wouldn’t want you coming all the way down
from Boston without a little bloodshed.” Ryan shifted the ice pack
so it was resting on her lower lip and chin.

“A woman after my own heart.” Pam teased.

The referee blew the whistle, the three long
shrill sounds signaling the end of the game, and the Touchdowns’
victory over the Kittens, twenty one to fourteen.

The rest of Ryan’s team ran off the field,
and gathered around her, offering their condolences. In spite of a
rapidly forming headache, it became apparent very quickly Ryan
wasn’t going to be able to beg off Kislings, as the consensus was
that nothing cured a busted lip like copious amounts of
alcohol.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Nicole
tilted Ryan’s head back, and looked closely at her swollen bottom
lip.

“It’s fine. The ice has already reduced the
swelling.” Ryan managed a smile that sent a spark of pain across
her lip.

Seeing her roommate’s obvious discomfort,
Nicole cringed. “My vote is you go home, take an Aleve and call it
a day.”

Ryan’s eyes shot over to the bar. Leah and
Pam were standing near the farthest end, waiting for their drinks.
“I’m fine.”

Nicole followed Ryan’s gaze and grinned. “I
see.”

“You see what?” Ryan stepped back from her
friend, and gently dabbed at her lip, relieved there wasn’t any
more blood welling up.

“I can see why you want to press on.” Before
Ryan could respond, Nicole turned and made her way toward Leah and
Pam.

Horrified at what Nicole might say, Ryan
trotted after her. Nicole came to a sudden stop ten feet from the
other two women, causing Ryan to run into her.

“Jesus, Ryan.” Nicole stumbled forward.

Ryan grabbed her friend’s shoulder, and spun
her around. “Sorry, but what do you think you’re doing?” Looking
over Nicole’s shoulder, Ryan’s eyes darted back and forth between
Leah and Nicole.

“You’re paranoid.” Nicole smirked, and
shrugging Ryan’s hand off her shoulder turned back around.

“Hold up.” Ryan took Nicole’s wrist in her
hand. “I’m not paranoid. I know you, and your proclivity for
mischief.”

Nicole laughed. “
Proclivity
? Is that
an educated way of saying I’m highly skilled at kick starting your
social life?”

Ryan shook her head. “I hardly need a boost,
friend.”

Nicole’s eyes narrowed as she slowly nodded
her head. “Right, Jenny.”

What had started off as a lark was starting
to annoy Ryan. “That’s right. Jenny.”

Nicole’s eyes widened. “Okay, calm down.”

“I am calm.” Ryan knew she wasn’t and hated
that she tended toward paranoid and defensive where Leah was
concerned. If she were honest, it wasn’t defensive so much as
protective. She was loath to think too much about why it mattered
what Leah’s impressions of her were. They were hardly more than
acquaintances.

“That lip doesn’t look so hot.” Leah’s voice
broke into the tension that was mounting between Ryan and
Nicole.

Managing a weak smile, Ryan turned her
attention to Leah. “Looks way worse than it feels.”

“Thank heaven for that.” Pam stepped up next
to Leah. “So where is this thing happening?”

Ryan’s brow furrowed. “Thing?”

Nicole shifted nervously. “Why break with
tradition?”

It took Ryan several seconds to catch up, but
when she did a wave of dread washed over her. “We don’t -”

Leah frowned. “Oh, but we should.”

Pam took a drink of her beer, and nodded. “We
must.”

Nicole smiled broadly. “Then we shall.”

Watching as the three women walked up the
staircase to the second floor of Kislings, Ryan couldn’t imagine
how she was going to manage the next hour.

“Why - so - serious?” Greg was standing next
to Ryan, a half empty pint glass in his hand.

“It’s nothing.” Ryan shrugged, resigned to
her fate and the inevitable embarrassment that was headed her
way.

“What? You didn’t want to get filthy drunk
via a raucous game of flip cup in front of a woman you are clearly
attracted to?” Greg took a quick sip of his beer, and shrugged
casually. “That’s understandable.” He walked toward the stairs,
leaving a stunned, opened mouth Ryan standing in the middle of the
bar.

I don’t have to go up there. Obviously
they are all getting along superbly without me.
Ryan considered
her options. In the end, though, she knew it would be exponentially
more awkward to just disappear then march upstairs and own her
shame.

As she reached the second floor of Kislings,
the sound of laughter and cheering filled the space. Over a dozen
people, most of whom she knew from BSSC, were gathered around four
small tables that had been slid together to form a large square
table.

“Ryan, you’re here!” Corey Buckman, who by
day was a successful web designer, had taken on his weekend
drunk-frat-boy persona as he used one of five Natty Boh pitchers to
fill six red plastic cups that lined either side of the table.

“Hey - you still know who I am. Drink more.”
Ryan muttered.

“How do we pick teams?” Pam was sitting on
one of the round bar stools that lined the back wall of the room.
She had her arm around an amused Leah’s shoulders.

Ryan felt a twinge of envy at Pam’s proximity
to Leah, and the obvious comfort the two women had with each
other.

“Okay everyone!” Nicole’s voice boomed above
the crowd. “We’ve got sixteen here today; so let’s count one
through four, like numbers are on the same team - four teams
total.” She pointed to Corey. “We’ll start with you, fella. While
you can still count.”

Everyone laughed as a good natured Corey
started the counting. Ryan watched as the group counted off. She
had hoped to be on Leah’s team, but not only were they competing
against each other, they were going to be directly across from each
other during the first game.