pinky promise - jamie tartt

‟ DON'T SCARE EASILY „

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"Jan Maas, if you let that bar drop on Colin's neck, I'm making you do an extra media interview."

"She's not joking, mate," Jamie called out, finishing his reps while the rest of the team wrapped up their weight training. Tate sat on her designated bench, watching Jan spot Colin carefully, not wanting a repeat of what had happened before. "I've had to do like, six in the past month."

"That's because you keep getting photographed pouting in the public, and I know Roy has already told you how bad it looks for the team."

"Alright," Isaac called out, re-racking his weights and gaining the attention of his team. Tate grinned softly, recognizing just how well he came into his role as captain. "When you're leaving, get yourself a shower. Get some rest. More importantly, no video games before bedtime. Unless it's Animal Crossing. That shit's fucking soothing."

"You know, I think we're really starting to turn our fortunes around." Sam called out optimistically from his spot atop an exercise bike.

"Well, actually, Sam—" Jan started, but Colin was quick to interrupt as he sat up straight on the workout bench.

"Jan Maas, no need." Colin waved his teammate off while facing the rest of the weight room. "Sam, we're playing like shit, and we all know it."

"Colin!" Tate chastised, her face pinched in disbelief that he would actually say that—even if the whole team knew it.

"Hey! Enough of that negativity." Jamie shouted over his teammates' agreement with Colin. Tate caught her bottom lip between her teeth, watching her boyfriend carefully. It wasn't a secret, to her at least, that he was struggling still with having Zava on the team. He had gotten used to being the best, being the one his teammates turned to when they needed a boost of energy on the pitch.

But now everyone looked to Zava, and Jamie's Precious Moments figurines side was still sore from the blow.

"Yeah, City are great, they just are. But who the fuck cares?" Jamie continued, making sure each of his teammates saw the honest look in his eyes. "'Cause so are we. So stop actin' like a bunch of little bunny rabbits. Let's fucking do this, yeah?"

Zava sat up from where he was laying on a bench, still lifting weights, groaning loud enough the entire locker room paused and Tate flinched in confusion.

"Jamie is so right," Zava agreed, tossing the weight to the side as if it was made of nothing. Then, Tate had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at her boyfriend's expense as Zava stepped up to where Jamie sat, placing his hand on the top of his head and tousling his hair. "It's as if he were Zava."

"Get off me, man." Jamie huffed, knocking Zava's had away. The football legend didn't even seem to notice, not once reacting to Jamie's words as he continued his speech, and Tate stood from her bench and crossed the room to stand at Jamie's back, settling her hands on his shoulders as she leaned just slightly against him.

"You see, I am no prophet."

"Fuckin' dickhead," Jamie mouthed the words to her, and Tate rolled her eyes, dropping a kiss to the crown of his head to make up for Zava's annoying actions.

"Prophets believe in something. I do not just believe. I know... in my heart, in my bones, in my well-defined delts, traps and glutes, that there is no opponent that this team can't conquer."

"I literally just said that." Jamie complained, and Isaac was quick to shove his arm in reprimand. Tate rubbed her hands across his shoulders twice, silently letting him know that she recognized his frustration and understood why he was annoyed.