Sticks and Stones

Seventeen: The One Bed Trope

"Nice suit," she remarked, trying to brush it off as a teasing comment.

Brady chuckled. "It's required, all right?"

Tatum glanced around, curiously asking, "No bus buddy?"

"Perks of being captain," Brady responded with a shrug. "Earned a seat to myself."

"And now you're stuck with me," Tatum pointed out.

"More like you're stuck with us," he countered, glancing back at the rest of the bus. "You've never had to deal with this many of us at once. And you're stuck here. You sure you don't wanna back out?"

Tatum scoffed, giving him a challengingly look as she settled into her seat. "Like you'd let anyone else look at your knee if you got hurt."

"I don't get hurt."

"I hate you."

Brady grinned at her and opened his mouth to say something but was cut off when Coach Mercer stood up. He clapped his hands to catch everyone's attention. "All right, everyone good to go? Looks like it's gonna be around three and a half hours till we get there. I want everyone locked in. I'll give you thirty minutes to do whatever you wanna do. But after that, you listen to music. You visualize. Whatever you need to do. This team is good, we know that. We have to be focused."

The team nodded in response and Tatum couldn't help but feel a bit out of place. Coach Mercer turned his attention to her, pointing at her. Tatum's eyes widened, glancing around. He continued, saying, "And we have company. Behave."

Tatum offered a sheepish smile, tentatively raising her hand to say hello as the players turned their focus to her. Coach Mercer sat back down and the players went back to whatever it was they were doing. Tatum yawned, her hand going to cover her mouth. Brady raised an eyebrow, asking, "You good?"

"Mhm," she let out tiredly. "Just didn't get much sleep last night. Wanted to get some stuff done in case I came today. Glad I did."

Brady shrugged. "Get some sleep then. You heard coach, we'll be here for a bit."

Instinctually, Tatum almost denied the idea. She always had something to do to prevent her from sleeping. But then she realized she truly had nothing she had to be doing right now. She hummed in acknowledgement, shifting a bit to get more comfortable. Resting her head against the back of the chair, she let her eyes slip shut as she let out a deep breath to try and relax. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was forgetting something— something important. She tried to ignore the nagging in her head, forcing herself to focus on getting some rest.

Some sleep couldn't hurt, could it?

●・○・♥︎・○・●

"Tatum."

The voice was distant as she felt herself get shaken gently. Tatum turned her face into her pillow with a groan, having no desire to wake up yet. It felt like she barely slept for some reason. She must have been tossing and turning a lot. A few more minutes couldn't hurt. She couldn't even think of anywhere she needed to be.

Someone cleared their throat, but the weird part was that Tatum felt it. That was odd. That didn't usually happen. How could she feel someone clearing their throat?

"Tatum, wake up."

Then she realized she was not sleeping on a pillow.

No, she was sleeping on a shoulder.

And that shoulder belonged to one Brady Parker.

Tatum jolted up, feeling her face heat up.

As it turned out, some sleep could hurt.