Preath: Head In The Game [Complete]

2: Probiotics and Protocol

She frowned. "You mean like superstitions?"

"Or anything that gets you ready."

"Hmm..." she tapped her finger to her chin. "Well, I meditate. What about you?"

"I'm not particularly superstitious either," I shrugged. Her eyes bored into mine, waiting. "Well, I guess one thing I do before I go on the field is I jump the line."

"Jump the line?" she repeated.

"The sideline. Not like a big showy leap, just a little jump."

"What made you start doing that?"

"I didn't actually start it. I used to do it with some former teammates." Reflecting back to those moments when I would jump the line with Lauren Holiday and Amy Rodriguez stirred up a bittersweet taste in my mouth. "Now it's just me."

"Maybe you could do it with me now," she suggested.

"Maybe we could." Her interest put me at ease, but when I looked back, Alex was getting annoyingly antsy. I had to say something. 

"Uh..." I coughed. "So, what I was getting to is that there are a lot of players on this team whose superstitions make them quite, uh, habitual." I exaggerated the 'bitch' in 'habitual' as a hint to Alex. "As someone who's been here a while, I guess it's my responsibility to let you know that there is one tradition that everyone kind of... obeys here, and that's our seating arrangements on the bus."

Realization washed over Christen's face. "Oh."

"Thanks, Tobs," Alex leaned her head in and put a hand on each of our shoulders. "Yeah, I'm really sorry Christen, I know I'm probably coming off as really rude, but that's my seat. It's just a thing."

"No, I'm sorry," Christen said. "I had no idea it meant that much." Her hand fell to her lap. "It figures I'd screw something up on my first day."

"It's okay," Alex reassured. "It's not your fault. Just...please... get out of my seat."

"Got it." Christen stood up, and for me, this felt like a moment of parting. I was enjoying talking to her. "So," she said, "Tobin, I guess that means we can't still sit together and you can teach me all the other rules?"

"Well," I said, "like I said, I'm not really superstitious. Some people hold onto the tradition more dearly than others." I shot Alex a glance.

Alex was particular, but by no means was she dumb. "I mean, you can sit in this seat if you guys want. I'm just going to listen to music and talk to Allie anyway. Not like there's a card game anymore." She laughed. I'd hardly realized when I banged my knee how many cards fell on the floor.

"But will it be... unlucky or something?" Christen asked. "For Tobin to change seats?"

"Actually, no," Alex said, patting my shoulder. "The thing about Toby is she doesn't need luck."

All I could do was smile. Alex had a way of making you look good. Even if I didn't especially like being called Toby.

I got out first and waited for Christen to take the window seat. Pretty soon after sitting down, Crystal and Julie were already making small talk with her. I sat on my hands, thighs sweating, gluing themselves to the faux leather vinyl. I shifted to rip them apart. Everything around Christen -- her bag, her clothes, her body -- smelled of sunscreen. Some unique brand of sunscreen, but sunscreen nonetheless. Virtually no one on the squad wore any on gloomy days like this, let alone this much. I got the feeling Christen didn't believe in "a little goes a long way," which is probably why she ended up with us, training for the World Cup.

Christen pried the lid off some homemade, yogurt-y fruit and nut superfood concoction she'd pulled from her bag. The scent of strawberry made me wish I'd woken up early enough to eat more than just one piece of avocado toast.

"That was so weird, huh?" Christen said.

"What?" I asked, stomach shouting for my attention. I sucked it in.

"How the seat thing was a huge deal for Alex but she didn't care if you switched," she said, the spoon moving through the air as she talked. "I thought everyone followed this."

"Generally, we do. You know, she was probably just as worried about you having bad luck as herself. Technically, I'm fine because no one is actually sitting in my seat. I think that's what truly bothers Alex. Though I never really believed in it anyway."

She took another bite, cheeks like a baby squirrel. Whenever she smiled, they seemed to appear from nowhere. "So," she said, "what other things would you say are your responsibility to tell me?"

"Most of the other traditions are individual, so you'll figure them out just by observing. For example, Ashlyn" -- I pointed her out -- "is a keeper, so she likes to tape her hands. I think she's taping them now, actually."

"And how long does it usually take to get to where we're training?"

"Not too long. Long enough for Ashlyn to finish taping and Kelley to sneak a quick nap in. It'll get bumpy near the end."

"Is Alex your best friend?"

At this point I start to realize I'm getting the third-degree, but I can't tell if it's because she likes talking to me or she's just a curious person overall. "I guess. We're close. And Harry, also known as Allie. Lindsey, Pinoe and Kelley and... we're all friends, really."

"That must be nice."

"Yeah." The team was pretty tight-knit, but I hoped my talking to her would help make sure she didn't feel left out. "Wanna see a trick?" I asked.

"Sure."

"Lift up your foot."

She set it on the table.

I untied her Nike shoe. "How did you learn to tie laces?"

"I think I know what you're going to do but I never learned it. I learned the bunny way."

"This is way quicker. Ready?" In one swift motion, I tied the laces using the 'L' method.

"I need to see it again." Just as she ducked down to get a better look, the bus hit a massive speed bump. Globs of yogurt catapulted into the air, some landing in her face and the rest in my hair.

I froze in place, keeping the yogurt from setting in further. "And that's how we know we've arrived."

"I'm so sorry!" she said. "I have napkins, don't worry."

Of course she did. "Don't feel bad," I said. "Pretty soon you'll see that many of the players on this team would do something like that as a prank."

"Don't move, it'll get worse." Before I could protest, she placed one hand under my chin to hold my head in place. Soaking the napkin with water from her bottle, she started patting at my temple. Normally, I would've wanted to do it myself, but her hands were so soft yet strong, almost like a mother's -- I was immobilized, a kitten held by the scruff. When she was done, I almost wanted to ask her to double-check, just to feel it again. But that would be insulting her vision.