Death Row

Olympics 2

Authors Note: Cheers for the support! Sorry if this is anticlimactic!

It is believed around one in every seven lies is snuffed out. Around 70% of those who lie say they'd tell the same lie again.

There's almost a beauty in being able to deceive someone and get away with it.
Yet there wasn't much art for Jordan. Just the wish to get away from the cold, harsh truth.

She wished she wasn't standing in a hotel room in Tokyo, facing Christen Press and Mallory Pugh. Of course fastback a year and Jordan would've loved to be in this situation.

Yet she also loved for her dad to not be on death row.

"Jordan?" Mal had been watching her best friend's face closely, her own showing a frown, that was starting to become all too familiar.

The door was now shut. And now both Christen and Mal were marching towards her.

Jordan was panicking. Now her attention was on Christen whose voice could now be heard. "Jordan?"

"Y-Yes?" Jordan kept her head down in shame. She heard the experienced player sigh. "We can tell something is wrong." A look to Mal who nodded her head was followed by both of the concerned adults looking down at the baby of the team.

Marceñez-Costello wasn't raised a liar. So lying was something, until now, she rarely did.
"I'm fine." Another thing that was false. The statistics didn't seem to work in Jordan's favour as her best friend's face turned bright red.
"Jordan Marissa Marceñez-Costello! What are you hiding from us?!" Mal was hysterical.
Not that her closest companion would budge though.

In fact, Jordan herself became quite angry. "I tell you what, why doesn't everyone leave me be? I'm fine Mal. It's you that has the problem it appears. You can't control my love life. I get that you hate Fernando but you don't need to spread shit about him!"

Pugh's eyes narrowed. "It's not false."

It wasn't.

Jordan stood in front of the mirror. The twenty year old was quite happy with how she looked.
Glammed up in a sparkly red dress and a beautiful necklace with a ruby that her grandmother used to own, she was excited to go out and celebrate the USWNT getting their fourth star.
Eventually she arrived at the back garden of the hotel which had fairy lights strung out and music at full blast.
Everyone was having a good time. "We're Champions baybeeeeeeee!" Mal slurred into her ear and Jordan laughed at her drunkenness.
She looked around to see loved ones of the players there as well and her eyes found Fernando.
The boxer was dapper in a suit and was chatting to fellows his age. He then turned to see Jordan and a frown was instantly on his face.

Jordan thought about going over but shuddered at previous public encounters. Gonzalez wasn't always able to control his anger.
So her worry hung in the back of her mind and the night raged on.
Then her boyfriend stormed over to her. "We've got to go." His gruff voice alarmed Jordan although it was swiftly masked.
He took her hand and Jordan heard Emily holler "Going up to do the dirty?"
A few snickers followed and Jordan gave a small smile before she was led away from the crowd.

It wasn't until they arrived at her hotel room that Fernando spoke after slamming the door shut.
"Why are you wearing that?" He appeared almost disgusted. Jordan looked at her outfit.
She didn't see any problem with it.

Fernando pokes his finger at Jordan's cleavage and momentarily rested it on one of her breasts.
He spat out "I don't want them seeing that. Your mine."
Jordan became flushed. "I'm sorry I won't wear that in front of guys."
However, Fernando's expression changed once more. "Even though you looked like a slut, it's not actually the men I care about. It's..."  He looked as if he swallowed vomit, "those women."

This caught Jordan back. "Sorry?" Fernando averted his eyes. "You know the players on your team are tryna...turn you gay. You wearing stuff like that is just gonna encourage them."

Then both of them heard what appeared to be footsteps slowly walking away from the door.
Fernando frowned "Who was that?"
Jordan shrugged "I dunno."

Her boyfriend nodded. "Fine. Just remember to obey what I tell you. We both know who's in charge of this relationship and it's not you. What I want, happens understood?"
Of course Jordan full well understood. She was terrified of the guy she loved and it made her stick to the stomach.

Gonzalez then started to unbutton his shirt before smirking. "I think it's time to continue with the rest of the night."

Jordan was adamant. "You heard nothing." Christen flicked her head back and fourth between her two protégées .  "Am I missing something?" She wanted to know.
Mal's face was pale "A lot." was all that she replied with.
Pugh turned to see Jordan's phone. "I think your dad going to jail has had an effect."
Jordan's heart rate was rapid yet she somehow kept a straight face and quickly and quietly  said "I never knew my dad."

Christen appeared almost remorseful for her earlier outburst. "I'm sorry." Was all she said and the apology appeared genuine.
Press took Mallory's arm and started leading her towards the door. "We truly didn't mean to upset you Jords...it's just we're concerned and you know we don't want a repeat of four years ago."

THATS IT?!

"Get out." Those two words took Press and Pugh by surprise. "Jordan, we-" "Get out. Please." Jordan don't want to see her teammates.
Watching them sigh then leave, the midfielder switched her phone back on to phone the only person she wanted to speak to.

Wow. Things have changed haven't they?

"Dad. Yeah it's me. No I'm not sad. I just wanted to speak to you. Yeah I'm fine. You don't have time? How? Oh you're going somewhere? Oh have fun."

No sooner that she put the phone to her ear , Jordan had popped it back down. Ignorant as it seems, but she didn't know those on death row did leisure activities.
Especially not Alejandro Sanz.
Then the door sung open once more and Jordan saw Dahlkemper come in.
Abby seemed chuffed. "You buzzing?" She asked. Jordan frowned. "For what?" The defender laughed. "The final silly." The midfielder turned red before giving out an awkward laugh of her own. "Oh sorry. Yeah of course."
The 27-year old leaned back. "Well we all have to be on our A-game."

She didn't mean to be rude but Jordan just shut her eyes. There was already so much pressure on her shoulders. And so much she could take.