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“Baby.” You whisper, gently holding his forearms to try and get him to focus again. You saw where his dad tugged on his arm, where his dad grabbed him and pushed him and degraded him all in front of his friends. You couldn’t comprehend how a father could treat his child like that, how a father could insult his own son and goad him into throwing a punch. How a father could treat his own son like that for so long, that he felt no other alternative than to punch him.
“Jamie.” You try again. He had since separated from Roy and wandered off to the edge of the locker room, behind a corner where he would be out of sight. He’s leaning with his back against the wall, head tilted back as a few stray tears made their way down his face. He hasn't opened his eyes since you approached him, when he cracked one eye open and let out a humorless laugh. You’ve been patient, waiting him out until he says something or moves, but you’ve both been standing in this dark corner for at least twenty minutes. “C’mon, talk to me.”
“What’s there to say?” His voice is weak, exhausted. He still sounds a little hoarse from crying, and he has to clear his throat before he speaks again. He finally opens his eyes again, but his gaze strays to where your hand is holding onto his arm. He looks heartbroken, and it’s killing you that you can’t just fix this for him, that you can’t go back and stop the whole thing from happening. At the very least, you wish you were already down here when it happened so you could have been the one to throw his dad out of the room. “You already know what happened.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Jamie is different from who he was a few years ago, he’s grown and changed and become someone you actually want to be around, but sometimes he could still be so stubborn. “I want to talk to you about it. I want you to talk about it.”
“Who even told you, anyway?” Even when he’s mumbling and looking down, his accent is so clear and recognizable. You try and hide your smile, since it’s definitely not the time, but you just love how he speaks, how he sounds. Once Jamie got over himself and the sound of his voice didn’t instantly irritate you, you were surprised to find out that you actually liked listening to him talk. He sounded so different from everyone you grew up with, and it was fun to learn his speech patterns and the way his vowels sounded and his phrases that did nothing but confuse you.
“Roy texted me. He said you needed me and I–” You cut yourself off, laughing at yourself now that some time has passed. Jamie looks at you from under his eyelashes, surprise coloring his face at hearing you laugh. “You should have seen how fast I ran down here. I think I shoved a security guard out of the way when he was blocking me from the door.”
That gets Jamie to smile, just like you knew it would. It’s not his full smile or even his cocky smile, but it’s something and it’s enough for now. “You, pushing past security? I don’t believe it.”
“Well, believe it.” Now it’s your turn to look away, to look down at where your hand is still wrapped around Jamie’s arm. You slowly slide your hand down his wrist and tangle your fingers together, exhaling when he instantly grips your fingers tightly. You didn’t think Jamie would reject you, but you didn’t know how open he was to being comforted right now. Your next words come out in a whisper, private, just for the two of you. “I was really worried about you. Nothing was going to stop me from getting to you, not even some guy three times my size yelling at me. You were the only thing on my mind as I was running down here and I couldn’t stand to wait around to make sure you were okay.”
Jamie’s face falls and so do a few tears. He swings your tangled hands between your bodies, just for something to do or to get rid of whatever he’s felling, and you let him. Jamie swipes forcefully at his face to get rid of his tears, but he’s still holding your hand so gently. You swat away his hand and wipe at his face with the end of your sleeve, treating him with more care than he ever would have himself.
Jamie just stares at you, shock blinking its way onto his face. You know how Jamie’s past relationships were, and you know how little genuine connection or care there was. You know Jamie wasn’t blameless in creating that dynamic, but your heart breaks all over again when you realize he’s surprised that you’re taking care of him like this. That you’re being gentle with him, that you want to be here and make sure he’s okay. It always hits you hard when you realize how starved Jamie has been for someone to care, for contact that doesn’t come from the game or rough hands.
Once you finish wiping away his tears and are taking your hand away from his face, Jamie grabs your wrist and pulls you toward him. You let out a surprised noise as Jamie wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your neck, hugging you tightly against his body. Once you realize what’s happening, you exhale and wrap your hands around Jamie’s shoulders, tangling one hand in his hair to soothe him. You know he isn’t crying again, you would feel his tears on your neck, so you don’t know how much of this is hiding and how much is seeking comfort from you. It doesn’t really matter, at the end of the day.
You aren’t expecting Jamie to speak, so when you feel the vibrations from his voice on your neck it surprises you before you hear his words. “He’s always been like that. Mean, pushy, aggressive– he can’t stop himself once he gets going. I think he likes it, getting in your face and seeing how much he can get away with before you react.” Jamie sniffs, and you don’t miss the fact that he’s admitting all of this to your neck instead of face to face. Baby steps. “He would do the same thing to…to my mum, and I would try and say something, but he would just start yelling at me and then my mum would start yelling at him, and it…”
Jamie trails off, but you can piece together the rest of the story all on your own. You don’t say that of course Jamie’s dad enjoys pushing people, that he wouldn’t do it if it didn’t give him pleasure and a perverted sense of power, that he’s so good at it because he’s had years of practice. You don’t say that Jamie’s mom is probably one of many in a very long line of women he’s done that too. Instead, you apologize. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair to you, you should never have had to deal with that as a kid.”
“‘S not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault but his, really.”
“Yeah.” you whisper, pulling back and looking at Jamie until he’s forced to make eye contact with you. You want your next words to land, you want to make sure he understands what you’re saying. You don’t know if anyone’s ever told him this or if he’s ever even said it to himself, but you know it needs to be said right now. “It is his fault. It’s his fault, Jamie.”
“I just said that.” Jamie says, not unkindly. You realize he’s not understanding you, that he isn’t understanding the full weight of what you’re saying. You don’t want to just come out and say, Your dad is a dick and he doesn’t deserve to have you as a son, much less know you or even be around you or You shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened earlier, anyone would have done what you did, especially if they grew up with someone like that or You aren’t responsible for him and you never should have been made to feel like you were .
You know you have to save those for later. So, you try again. “It’s his fault. Jamie, it is all his fault.”
You see the recognition slide onto Jamie’s face as he realizes what you’re saying, but just as quickly it’s gone. Too quickly. Jamie looks down at his feet and scuffs them against something that isn’t actually on the floor, and you decide to drop it. Jamie’s exhausted, he’s sad about the game and barely clinging to any positive outlook after his dad showed up, so it isn’t something to harp on tonight. You’ve made your point and Jamie understands, and that’s all that you can do for now.
“It’s okay.” you whisper, and Jamie just nods. His hands tighten where they’re still wrapped around your waist, and you’re helpless to stop the fond smile from taking over your face. Jamie’s expression soon follows your own, and you watch as a real smile overtakes his face for the first time tonight.
“Can I tell you something?” Jamie surprises you by asking, and you nod quickly. Jamie bites his lower lip and you watch his face darken, and you realize he’s embarrassed . You wait patiently for him to say whatever is on his mind, but the anticipation is killing you. Jamie Tartt doesn’t get embarrassed . “When you rushed in here and slammed open the door, I thought it was my dad again. It felt like my heart stopped and everything was in slow motion as I waited for him to come after me again, but then I saw that it was you. I saw you wearing this jersey with my name on it and your crazy eyes looking for me, and when you found me, it felt like I could breathe again. I saw you and I just…I knew I was gonna be okay, eventually, because you were here, and you always make everything better.”
You pull him into a kiss before he’s even finished speaking. It feels like your first kiss all over again, when you were so overcome that you just had to kiss him, you had to do something because you didn’t know what else to do with yourself. Jamie hums in surprise into the kiss, slides his hands from your waist up your back. You feel him relax completely into it, his body losing any tension or nervousness it was clinging to, and you feel a rush of satisfaction that you get to do that for him, that you’re the only one who can calm him down like this. You pull back first, lingering a little just to watch him try and pull you back in for another kiss.
“I can’t believe you were embarrassed to tell me that.” You whisper against his lips, just to hear him scoff and watch him pretend to be offended. He backs away from you, lets his arms drop from around you and starts walking away, but you follow him. He’s walking back into the main part of the locker room, and you’re relieved to see that everyone has already left.
“See if I ever tell you anything from the heart again.” Jamie mumbles as you watch him pick up his stuff and shove it into his duffel bag. Your hands twitch to take over and put everything away nicely, but you resist.
“Like you could ever resist me.” You smirk as Jamie turns around in surprise, shaking his head at you. He doesn’t say anything after that, and you’re suddenly reminded of the night he’s had. Jamie grabs his duffel bag and hikes it onto his shoulder and your eyes track the movement. You grab Jamie’s hand as you two start to walk out of the locker room together, and he’s quick to take your hand and squeeze it.
“Let’s go home.” Jamie smiles at the word home , and you do too. The novelty hasn’t worn off yet, living together and creating a space that represents the two of you together, and you hope it never does. “Did you drive?”
You scrunch up your face in a preemptive apology. “I came with Keely and Rebecca. But I’m sure we can–” You rush to invite him in the car on the ride back with you, but he shakes his head just as quickly.
“No, no. No, thank you. I can’t take Keely’s big, sad eyes looking at me tonight. I’ll just meet you back home.”
You nod your head, not putting up a fight. Jamie doesn’t want any more of an audience tonight, and you can’t blame him. “Alright. Just text or call me on the bus if you need anything.” Jamie nods, and while you can see that it disappoints him that the two of you won’t be driving home together, you can tell that he’s able to deal with it. You’re also disappointed to not be with him for the ride home, you’d have preferred to spent the couple hours back home keeping an eye on him and being right there if ne needed something, but you’ll both manage.
You reach the split in the hallway that separates the parking lots for teams and the fans when suddenly an idea hits you. “Say no if you want, but what if I went back home on the bus with you?” Your voice pitches up uncomfortably high at the end of your question as you wait to see Jamie’s reaction. You’ve been on the bus before, but always for quick moments: to run on and give Jamie something he forgot, to collect Keely when she was taking too long to say goodbye to Roy, to give Jamie a goodbye kiss with the rest of the team whistling and cheering behind you. You’ve been on the bus before, but never for longer than a minute. Riding back with the team, in their private space after a devastating loss, might be pushing it too far. At Jamie’s continued silence, you start to rethink your offer and backtrack. “No, no you’re right. I’m not a part of the team, and it’s been a tough night for everyone and you probably all want to decompress together. I’d probably be weird if I was just on the bus, you know, since I’m not a part of the team, so I’ll just stay with Rebecca and Keely.”
Jamie doesn’t say anything to cut off your rambling, and he doesn’t even say anything after you’ve finished. You briefly entertain the idea of fleeing the stadium, maybe even the country, until your embarrassment fades and you can face Jamie again. He doesn’t even look uncomfortable, like you would be before telling your girlfriend that it would be weird if she got on the bus with you, he just looks like he’s…thinking. His eyebrows are scrunched and he’s looking at you like he doesn’t know what to say.
“Let’s go.” He suddenly starts walking toward the direction of the bus, squeezing your hand in his to make sure you’re following. You two eventually make it out of the stadium and into the parking lot, and it’s painful to see the bus sitting in an empty parking lot. Ted is standing against the bus, no doubt waiting to see when Jamie would come out of the locker room. It’s obvious when he spots Jamie, he nods his head and straightens up off the bus, and it’s also obvious when he spots you, when he does a double take at you approaching the bus.
“Jamie, I don’t know if this is a good idea.” You say, nervous about what’s going to happen next. Ted might just say she wasn’t allowed on the bus home, the guys might say they would prefer to be alone for the drive home, or no one would say anything and would resent you for how uncomfortable the bus ride home became.
“Coach.” Jamie says when they meet Ted at the bus, and Ted gives you a nod of recognition while Jamie continues. “Can she ride back with us?”
Ted blinks, like he wasn’t expecting Jamie to ask that, but he recovers quickly. “Well, the more the merrier, that’s what I always say. Lemme go run it by the guys first.”
Ted steps onto the bus, and once it’s just you and Jamie, you turn and hit your first into his chest without any force behind it. Jamie makes a face like it actually hurt him, and normally you would find that distractingly cute. “What is going on? What if they don’t want me on there, you’re just gonna make them take me?”
“Yes.” Jamie cups your face in his hands, and you can feel whatever tension you were holding onto disappear. You weren’t really upset, and Jamie knows that, you just would have liked an explanation. But instead, Jamie leans down and kisses you sweetly, dragging his lips against yours slowly until he pulls back. He swipes his thumb along your cheekbone while he just stares at you, enough love in his eyes to make you weak in the knees. “Besides, you’re forgetting something. You’re a part of my team.”