pinky promise - jamie tartt

‟ MORE PRESSURE „

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Tate was certain she had never gotten more angry at a headline than she did while reading that morning's edition of The Independent.

Lasso reported to have left the pitch due to food poisoning, now sources claim panic attack was reason behind exit.

She was pretty sure she knew who the source was, though it did nothing to quell the ringing in her ears. The car ride to the club was so filled with her angry rambling about the article probing into Ted's personal life that Jamie hadn't had the chance to ask her about breaking up with Callum, having received her text in the group chat nearly ten minutes before picking her up.

Though she knew he wouldn't have asked anyways, because it would have used up the team's one question, and Jamie Tartt was smarter than that.

"Can it be a multiple part question?"

"Nope," Tate clarified, not glancing up from her phone as Isaac and the rest of the boys groaned at her response. Even having an entire team of football players loudly debate what one question they were allowed to ask her wasn't enough of a distraction from her angrily scrolling through articles upon articles of Ted's mental health.

And the further she went, the more insane the theories grew.

"Can starters ask one question, and reserves ask another?" Colin tried, pacing in front of his stall that Tate had claimed for her own seat.

"That would defeat the purpose of only allowing us one question," Jan Maas declared, earning boos from his teammates, though Tate tapped the tip of her nose in a declaration of bingo.

"I still say we should just ask her why they broke up," Dani offered, clearly growing stressed out the longer they had to debate questions. It would have been more amusing for her to watch, if the shit with Ted hadn't gone down that morning as well.

"Nah, mate," Jamie shot the idea down quickly, having vetoed the question four times previously. Her heart stuttered in her chest, and she had a suspicion that Jamie was worried that he might have been the reason for the breakup. Neither one of them had made an effort to talk about what had happened at the funeral, and Tate was waiting for one of them to crack.

She was also fucking terrified for the confrontation that would surely follow.

"Guys, guys, I know what we must ask," Sam announced, waving his arms around to call a huddle. And when they all bunched around Sam, taking it very seriously, Tate couldn't stop the snort she let out.

"Just so you know, I'm not answering Richard's choice," She called out, the corner of her lips curving upwards in a way that was uncharacteristic of a woman who had just officially ended things with her long term boyfriend that morning. The Frenchman made a noise of protest from his spot in the middle of the huddle and she rolled her eyes, recalling the flush of her cheeks when he had suggested they ask her how Callum had been in bed.

"No, this question is actually important," Sam teased, grinning as he poked his head out from the huddle.

"I feel bad for your girlfriend if you do not think that is an important question," Richard shot back, earning jeers from the rest of the team before they were pulled back into the huddle. Tate finally clicked her phone off, shoving it into her pocket, growing weary of the hushed whispers the boys were exchanging.

And then they were all nodding, and she started to regret allowing them to discuss for so long to get the worst question possible.

"Tate on three. One, two, three—Tate!"