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“Santos! Hey, over here!”
Trinity breathes out and runs a hand through her hair. The beer in her red solo cup swishes as she walks towards the voice. It’s Mateo, her team’s tight end, waving from across the frat house. She daps him up when she reaches him, then he claps her on the shoulder. “I wanted to introduce you to some people.”
Trinity acknowledges the rest of the circle for the first time. She knows most of the group, including some other members of the team, but her eyes linger on a woman across from her. She’s wearing well-fitting dark jeans with a maroon going-out top and has tight black curls that fall over her shoulders beautifully. Trinity sends a meek smile her way, and the girl acknowledges with a raised eyebrow over her own plastic cup.
“Everyone, this is Trinity Santos, my quarterback.” She sticks her hand up in the air in a semi-wave. “Santos, this is Jesse, from that politics class I took, Nazely, same class, and Yolanda, my family friend.”
Trinity nods in acknowledgement to Jesse and Nazely before focusing her attention on Yolanda. Her eyes quickly scan her body, the intent behind her eyes clear. “You’re a cheerleader, right?”
“I am,” Yolanda replies. Her voice is silky-smooth, unaffected by the alcohol she’s consuming. “It’s my last year, though. I’m a senior.”
“Oh, good for you. Any plans post-grad?”
“Off to med school, I hope. I’ve been busy sending in applications.”
“No way! That’s super cool. Wishing you the best of luck.”
“Thank you, Trinity,” Yolanda says, a grin growing across her face. “What about you?”
“Well, if I don’t get drafted, I was thinking the same thing. I’m on the premed track, so.”
“You’ll get drafted. Any team would be blessed to have you at the helm.”
Trinity feels a blush rise up her cheeks at Yolanda’s words. It’s always extremely affirming to hear someone impressed by her skill on the football field, so she takes every compliment to heart. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”
“Anyway, Santos,” Mateo says, a precarious hand holding his own beer, “we need to get on beer pong. Jesse is boring and has to leave soon, but I think us four could get a pretty decent game going. What do you say?”
She should really say no. The season starts next week and the coaches are on their backs about preparing well, but on the other hand, it’s only one game. There’s only so much beer she can drink. Not to mention, her literal job is to throw accurately, and she’s got a bit of a reputation for being a beer pong god. “Why not?”
“Let’s fucking go! Okay, I’ll team up with Nazely, and you can take Yolanda.”
Trinity flashes a smile at Yolanda who returns it as they set up the game. Mateo finds a couple of six-packs and stars pouring freely, filling each cup up almost to the top. Grimacing, Trinity takes her spot at the end of the table and picks up a ball. “You wanna go first?”
“Thanks,” Yolanda replies, and takes the ball from her. Their hands brush for a second as they transfer custody and Trinity tries to ignore the way her heart starts thumping.
“Do your worst, Garcia!” Mateo yells, hands waving in front of their cups.
Yolanda looks to Trinity and raises her eyebrows. “We’re winning, okay?” She holds her hand out to shake and Trinity takes it with a grin.
“I got you, don’t worry.”
Yolanda nods, then turns and immediately sinks one. The forming crowd cheers for her, but she just looks at Trinity then offers her hand for a hi-five. When their hands meet, Trinity holds just a second too long before clearing her throat and catching the ball back from Mateo. “Lock in.”
The two teams trade shots, with Trinity and Yolanda pretty easily having the upper hand. It’s not too long before they’re winning 5 cups to Mateo and Nazely’s 2. The beer Trinity had to skull is sitting uncomfortably in her stomach, but the pretty girl next to her is doing well to mitigate the nausea.
“You’ve got this, Trin,” Yolanda whispers in her ear, leaning in close enough that her curls brush against her cheek. Trinity’s body lights up and she’s never been more grateful for the disgustingly low ‘mood lighting’ this frat insists on at their parties. She takes a breath to steel herself before throwing the ball. It floats in the air for ages before finally landing in the cup; the tiniest bit of beer spills out but Trinity barely registers it as the crowd cheers and Yolanda takes her in her arms.
“Yeah, let’s go!” Yolanda yells, spinning Trinity in the air. In an effort to not fall and break a bone, she wraps one arm around Yolanda’s neck and punches the air in celebration with the other. When Yolanda lets her down, she shakes her hair out and grins.
“That was so good,” she says, holding her hand out for another hi-five. Her body tingles from the contact they’d already had, so the hi-five just makes things worse. Their eyes linger on each other for a second too long before Mateo throws the ball back at her and it bonks off her forehead. “The fuck?”
“Drink up! The next people need to go.”
“We won!” She spreads her arms and shakes her head. “That’s a bullshit rule, Diaz, you know it.”
“House rules, bro.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Trinity picks one up and passes another to an amused Yolanda. “Not a word,” she whispers, then holds her drink up in a toast. “To us!”
“To us,” Yolanda says back, voice quiet. They chug their drinks in one go to the sound of a whooping crowd then do the same with their second, and Trinity laughs as they put the cups down.
“What’s the point of winning if you still have to drink?”
“Glory? Bragging rights?”
“I guess.” Trinity manages to cover a beer burp with the back of her hand. “Stupid rule.”
“I know, baby.”
Trinity pauses and raises her eyebrows. Did she hear that right? Yolanda looks just as shocked at the slipup. They both look around, trying to find anyone who could have heard it, but no one seems to be paying attention. A nervous laugh escapes through Trinity’s pursed lips and Yolanda mirrors it. Leaning in close, Trinity drops her voice. “Are you trying to get us caught?”
“No,” Yolanda replies with a smile, letting Trinity move her head closer, “but you’re not helping me keep this under wraps when you look like that.”
Trinity tilts her head up, trying her best to look strong in the face of this succubus. “If I look down, I’ll stare straight at your boobs. They’re literally looking at me. And you’re trying to tell me I’m the one driving you crazy?”
“You know you make me insane, Trin.” There’s that nickname again. Yolanda looks around again to check their surroundings. “When you’re all confident, winning against guys like Mateo, showing them what you can do? I’m going wild just thinking about it again.”
Trinity clenches her jaw, trying her best to look unaffected. “We need to go home soon.”
“Soon,” Yolanda echoes. “I think we should wait until someone tries to introduce us to each other again.”
“Mateo knows we’ve met.”
“He’s drunk. And maybe on something else, too, he disappeared into the bathroom with Jesse before.”
“He’s gonna get whooped by Coach Robby.” Trinity shakes her head, then looks back at Yolanda. “Meet me at the end of the street in 30?”
“Sounds good.” Yolanda’s eyes rake up and down her body, taking in the boxy light-blue button up and baggy black jeans that hang over her frame, then stop at the tousled mop of hair on her head. “I’ll try to stay away. Wouldn’t want anyone suspecting anything because I can’t keep my eyes off you.”
“Okay, boss,” Trinity says, resisting the urge to salute. “And, hey,” she raises her voice a little in case of eavesdroppers, “awesome job on the beer pong. It was great to meet you.”
Yolanda laughs, then holds her hand out for Trinity to shake. “Nice to meet you, Santos.”
She turns on her heel and Trinity watches her until she disappears into the kitchen. Even then, her eyes stick to the spot she’d last occupied until Mateo claps her on the shoulder. “Bro,” he says, beer sloshing onto the floor, “I knew you guys would hit it off. You should so get her number. She was totally into you.”
“Yeah, man,” she laughs, eyes still trained on the kitchen door, “I got a vibe too.”
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The best thing about the Pitt locker room is that as quarterback, Trinity has a private little nook that can’t be seen from the entrance. It’s great for when she wants to walk around with no shirt on after lift or eat a protein bar in peace. It’s also fantastic for harbouring her secret girlfriend and sneaking her in after training.
Today, Yolanda had come straight from cheer practice and Trinity had just left the field. She’d stayed a bit later than the rest of the team, so there wasn’t any real threat of her teammates barging in on them. Her practice shirt and shorts are sweaty and covered in grass stains, but Yolanda doesn’t seem to care much if her wandering hands are anything to go by.
Her girlfriend’s strong thighs straddle her own, grinding down slightly as their lips move together. Trinity’s completely lost in the sensation; they haven’t seen each other in a couple days, owing to schedules that don’t align and friends who don’t know what they’re interrupting, so her whole body is just begging for her girlfriend. One of Yolanda’s hands creeps up the back of her t-shirt while the other fists the back of her hair.
“So handsome,” Yolanda says as she takes a breath, “my gorgeous girl.”
Trinity melts into her touch and feels her body give itself over to Yolanda as she scratches at her scalp. Her hair had been touched up yesterday in preparation for their first nationally televised game of the year against UNC, so it’s a bit shorter than it has been recently. Yolanda cards her hands through the strands at the back and smiles into the kiss.
“You’re gonna look so beautiful out there, baby. Can’t believe I can’t kiss you how I want to.”
Trinity hums against her lips and moves her hands to her waist. It’s bare, owing to the skimpy cheerleading uniform, so she lets her thumbs draw circles on the muscular skin. “You can kiss me like that right now. Nothing’s stopping you.”
“You’re right.” Her voice is so breathy. Trinity might be God’s strongest soldier based off the fact she hasn’t let the entire world know Yolanda is hers. But the first female quarterback in Pitt history also dating a female cheerleader would be quite the news story. Not to mention the fact that the privacy is refreshing. Every aspect of Trinity’s life since she burst onto the scene in high school has been broadcast for the world to see, so having this little thing to herself feels safe.
She leans in again and presses her lips to Yolanda’s. Almost instantly, her mouth falls open and they simultaneously move closer together, Yolanda shifting in Trinity’s lap teasingly. It’s her M.O., working her up until she’s begging, but today Trinity is trying to be nonch. She’s got plans for later back at her apartment that involve a bit more privacy than this; they’re only in this position because Yolanda looked so incredible in her training outfit that Trinity needed to pounce.
Just as it starts to get good, a door slams in the distance and they both freeze. Yolanda is the first to pull away. Her head jolts back and eyes dart around the room, then Trinity follows suit. Another door slam, this one closer, has Yolanda jumping out of her lap and looking for anything to do.
“Is it too late for you to leave?” Trinity stage-whispers, trying desperately to shove her stuff into her bag.
“Yes, dipshit,” Yolanda snaps, but there’s no malice. In fact, she’s fighting a smile. “Isn’t this kinda hot?”
“Hot?”
“Yeah, baby.” She stalks closer again. “Maybe we can make a game out of it. You try and be quiet for me and I’ll—”
The next door that opens is the one to the main locker room. Voices start filtering in—there’s two, maybe three people loudly conversing, and Trinity immediately recognises one of them. “That’s Langdon.”
“Frank?” Yolanda questions, eyebrow raised. “I thought he was injured?”
“He is!” Langdon plays wide receiver but has been out for a couple of weeks with turf toe. Safe to say he and Trinity aren’t on good terms, but he’s friendly enough with Yolanda thanks to shared classes. If he were the one to discover their relationship…
“Babe,” Trinity whispers, starting to get frantic, “hide in my locker.”
“What?”
“I’m serious, there’s no way out.”
Yolanda stares at her for a second. “Are you for real right now?”
“Yes, can you imagine if Langdon comes in here and sees you? He’ll talk so much shit. Please, baby. For me? I’ll make it up to you when we get back to yours.”
Yolanda chews her lip. Her eyes dart towards the main locker room; they’re still hidden from sight, but if Langdon and his friends turn one single corner they’ll see them. She pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head. “Yeah, fine. Okay. But you owe me, Santos.”
“Thank you, baby,” Trinity says, cupping her jaw and kissing her on the cheek. “Now get in. Please.”
As well as her own little private section, the perks of playing for an ACC school include massive lockers. They’re obstinately for their pads and helmets, but they’re easily big enough for an average-sized person. Trinity opens the door for her and Yolanda climbs in, then sits down and brings her knees to her chest. “Thank you,” Trinity says again, then kisses her nose. The last thing she sees before closing the door is an exasperated smile on her girlfriend’s face.
It turns out that the intervention came just in time. Barely seconds after Yolanda went out of sight, Langdon, Donny and Olive turn the corner. Langdon simply nods, while the other two sport smiles.
“Hey guys,” Trinity gets ahead of the jump, “how are you?”
“Good, man,” Donny replies, putting his foot up on a locker across from Santos. “We were just looking for Jordan. Have you seen him anywhere?”
“Nah, bro,” Santos replies, stretching her arms above her head. “I was just about to leave. Done for the day.”
“Any plans for the rest of the afternoon?” Olive sends her a bright smile. They’re two of only a few women on the team, so they’ve always had a good relationship.
“Studying, probably. Exam season coming up.”
“Just get your professors to let you pass, dude. I haven’t taken an exam in years.”
If Trinity didn’t know her girlfriend better, she’d assume the snicker that comes from behind her was a trick of her mind. “Not all of us can be majoring in General Studies, Donahue. Med school apps won’t look good with literal fraud on them.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Donny nudges Langdon, who has crossed his arms at some point. Trinity lets her gaze float towards him but takes it away the second they make eye contact. “You know Langdon’s off to med school next year.”
“Oh yeah?”
Langdon nods. “I’m not going to get drafted, so. Need some eggs in a different basket.”
Trinity doesn’t disagree. He probably isn’t. Oh well, lol. “Yeah, fairs. Any ideas what track you wanna go down?”
“Emergency, probably.”
“Nice.” Trinity presses her lips into a tight line. That’s what she wants to do, too, and working with Langdon sounds like a nightmare. “Well, guys, I was just about to hop in the shower. Unless any of you wanna join I might have to say bye.”
“Hilarious, Santos,” Donny says. “We’ll get out of your hair. Jordan’ll show up.”
“I hope so.” Trinity nods at them and stands up with a sigh. “I’ll see you guys bright and early tomorrow for lift.”
“Sounds good,” Olive says with a salute. “See you then.”
They walk out without another word, and Trinity lets herself breathe for the first time since she heard them. “Oh my god,” she says shakily, then opens the door to her locker. Inside, Yolanda’s face is flushed red and her cheeks are strained. “Are you trying not to laugh?”
“That was so close, mi amor,” Yolanda says, a chuckle spilling out of her. “I almost lost it when Donny said that about his exams. I wonder what his girlfriend would think of that.”
“You cannot tell her, omg. He’s totally gonna propose when they graduate.”
“Ugh.” Yolanda scrunches her nose and Trinity leans forward to kiss it again, prompting a smile from her girlfriend. “That girl is head over heels for him. I don’t see it, personally.”
“You’re a lesbian, Yolanda, of course you don’t.”
“Good point. You’re an awful liar, by the way. Your stories did not match up.” She stretches her legs out onto the seat and tilts her head, looking up at Santos. “Should we get out of here? I believe you owe me something.”
“Oh, do I? What could I have meant by that?”
“Mmm, I don’t know.” Yolanda rises up onto her knees so she can meet Trinity’s eye level. “I heard you say you wanted a shower. Maybe you could use some help?”
Trinity’s jaw drops and she fights the urge to smile. “That would be great. I’ve had some trouble with all the nooks and crannies recently. Do you know anyone who could sort me out?”
Yolanda slaps her lightly on the bicep and Trinity laughs, balancing herself on the locker wall next to her girlfriend. It means she leans in closer and cages Yolanda in, but if the way her pupils dilate is anything to go by, she likes it. “I think I know someone.”
“Perfect. Does she want to drive me home, too? I walked.”
“Only if you don’t get grass stains all over her leather seats.”
“Deal.” Trinity holds her hand out for Yolanda to shake, and when she takes it she helps her to her feet. Now that their normal height difference is restored, Trinity raises herself onto her tiptoes and kisses her softly. “Let’s go then. I stink.”
“I didn’t wanna be the one to say it.”
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After the close call in the locker room, they’ve become a lot more clandestine together. They’ll only meet at Yolanda’s apartment—Trinity’s roommate and teammate Dennis, although a steel trap, is too connected to parts of the university neither of them really engage with. They try not to be seen in public, and they don’t even post soft-soft-soft launch photos anymore. Life is truly so, so hard.
Life is also incredibly hard when your hot girlfriend looks hot and you can’t do anything about it. With the football team still undefeated at the halfway point of the season, the university had organised a gala dinner for the team and anyone associated with them, including the cheerleaders. It’s technically for charity, but Trinity has been a Pitt student for long enough to know it’s really an excuse to get rowdy during their mid-season bye week. Even Coach Robby lets his hair down—or what’s left of it, anyway.
The beer she’s nursing has long lost its chill and condensation drips onto the cuffs of her dress shirt. They’d been asked—see threatened—to dress up, so she’s presenting nicely in a black suit that hangs off her frame a little and a blue and yellow-striped Pitt tie the whole team had been given. Even though she’s been wearing ties since she graduated high school, she’s never got the hang of actually doing them up, so she had to enlist some help.
Baby, Yolanda had said, hands roaming across her chest, it’s really not that difficult.
Trinity hadn’t been able to take her eyes off the royal blue silk dress that Yolanda’s bronze skin complimented so well. I like making you tie it, though.
What if you’re all alone somewhere, someday with no backup? Who’s gonna do it then?
You can tie it for me before I have to go.
Yolanda had rolled her eyes and continued to work her magic. Each brush of her hands over Trinity’s chest had made her feel dizzy, so she steadied herself with hands on her girlfriend’s waist. They’d slotted in there like a puzzle piece.
Stay still, Yolanda had ordered, and Trinity did. I don’t want even a hair out of place for your big night.
It’s not my night. It’s the team’s.
And you’re the best player on the team, mi vida. So where does that leave us?
Trinity had just smiled as Yolanda did the last loop. Her girlfriend tugged the tie into place then smoothed out her shirt and fixed her collar. There, she said, all done.
Do I get a kiss now?
Yolanda had wrapped her arms around her neck and leaned in slightly. Kiss me, Trinity.
She’d leaned in, chasing her lips as Yolanda moved slightly away. Baby, she’d said with a groan, come here.
You’ve gotta get to me quicker than that.
When their lips finally connected, Yolanda snaked her hands into the short hair at the back of her head, running them through it. Babe, I just put sea salt spray in. The flow is a full time job.
Stop talking, Yolanda muttered against her lips, I told you to kiss me.
As she takes another sip of her beer, she smooths the tie down and scans the room. She’s been looking out for that royal blue silk all night, but in the interest of keeping up appearances, she hasn’t gone anywhere near her girl. It’s been torture. The one or two glances she’s got of Yolanda have made her weak at the knees. Oh, well. At least she’s the one who gets to go home with her in the end.
A few people come up to her to congratulate her on Pitt’s top 10 ranking, and she thanks them sincerely, but her eyes keep scanning. Eventually, they stop on that beautiful blue dress and continue to gaze over the loose curls and black heels that finish the outfit off.
Then she sees the man.
He’s dressed in khakis and a blue Oxford—obviously not one of her teammates, then. Maybe an athletic trainer she hasn’t come across, or someone who’d bought a ticket last minute off one of his mates. He too is nursing a beer, but his can looks considerably trashier than Santos’s bottle. She sips her own and inches closer.
She watches as he gets in close and says something into Yolanda’s ear. Anyone that doesn’t know her as well would take her laugh for kindness, but Trinity’s seen that one before. It’s the laugh she reserves for her dad when he’s talking about his “catch of the day” over the phone, or when a barista makes a bad joke while she’s paying for her coffee. Or, in other words, it’s incredibly insincere.
The guy doesn’t get that, though. He throws his own head back like he’s Matt Rife—who he seems to have “making women uncomfortable” in common with. Yolanda’s face turns into one of disgust and she looks to Samira, one of her fellow cheerleaders, who shares her sneer. It seems old mate is too drunk to notice though. He leans closer and puts his hand on Yolanda’s back.
Santos sees red.
She really shouldn’t, but she walks in their direction with poorly-concealed purpose. For good measure, she takes another sip of her beer and runs a hand through her hair, sea salt spray be damned. Samira is one of a very select few who knows about them, and her eyes widen with something between glee and fear as she sees Trinity approach.
The thing about a secret relationship is that it’s supposed to stay secret. If Trinity came in guns-a-blazing and kissed Yolanda, she’d make somewhat of a scene. If she joined their circle and pretended like nothing was happening, the guy wouldn’t get the hint. After locking eyes with Samira and raising her eyebrows questioningly, she nods her head towards the guy as if to ask who is he?
Samira just shrugs her shoulders and takes a sip of her champagne. Righto. Trinity considers her options. Physical affection is off the table. Being the bigger person and saying nothing is a no. The in-between will have to do.
She comes in closer until Samira has to move to the side to let her into the circle. She smiles at some of their cheerleader friends she recognises, all of whom absolutely have their own theories about the nature of her and Yolanda’s relationship, then looks at the man. “Hey, bro,” she says, holding out her non-beer hand. “I’m Trinity.”
The guy pauses his advances towards Yolanda and looks at her hand. For her part, Yolanda looks somewhat shocked but manages to school her face into the picture of neutrality. “Chad.”
He doesn’t take her hand, so Trinity brings it back to rest by her side. “Chad, hi. Who are you here with?”
“Are you hitting on me?”
Trinity barks out a laugh and she hears Yolanda try to conceal one of her own. “Good god, no. I was just wondering. This is sort of a closed event, you know. Football team and associates.”
Chad puffs his chest out and Trinity has to resist the urge to laugh again. “My ex-girlfriend is on the team.”
“Your ex-girlfriend.”
“Yep.”
“So is that supposed to get you on the list, or…”
“My buddy Jackson got me in. He’s one of the athletic trainers.”
Oh, yeah, Jackson. Another man on the team she’s not a fan of. “Right. So Jackson snuck you in?”
Chad mustn’t be feeling too smart right now, because no sober person would willingly be giving away information damning enough to get them—and their friend—kicked out. “He did. We came in the back where the caterers are. It was so smart, bro. We were sneaking around like fucking double-oh-seven, Jason Bourne shit.”
Okay, so Chad has evidently watched a total of two movies in his life. “That’s so crazy, bro. So you didn’t pay?”
“Nah. How good? All this beer for free, and I apparently have steak to look forward to later.” He takes a big sip of his drink. “I love collegiate athletics.”
“Yeah, okay.” Trinity finally plucks up the courage to share a look with Yolanda. Her girlfriend’s eyes are black, the chocolate brown she loves so much reduced to a millimetre-thick ring around her pupils. Her mouth is slightly open, just enough that Trinity notices. With a grin, she turns back to Chad. “Not to pull this card, but do you know who I am?”
“Trinity,” he says, disbelieving, “you told me your name like a minute ago.”
“Do you know who I play for?”
“I dunno, the softball team? Ha ha ha.” No one else laughs, apart from maybe Yolanda. She shoots her a glare. “How did you get in here? I was having a lovely conversation with this beautiful woman… Miranda, Miranda here, and you so rudely interrupted me. Rude as fuck. What happened to bro code?”
“I think bro code stopped applying when you put your hands on someone who didn’t want you to.”
“Yeah, okay man. Whatever. It’s not like you can have me kicked out or anything.”
Oh, Chad.
Chad doesn’t know that there’s nothing Trinity loves more than fourth-and-two. You can see the first down marker. It’s right there in front of you, the height of an o-lineman away. The crowd is cheering with all their might. Maybe it’s the fourth quarter. The stadium is shaking and you can’t hear yourself think over the noise, but all you know is you have to get the ball two yards forward. Even after the snap, when you’re going through the motions, you know it’s now or never. This play is going to have an outcome.
TL; DR: Trinity loves clutching up and converting in the face of a challenge.
“Okay,” she says, placating him. “My bad. For sure. I overstepped.” Samira giggles over her champagne flute as she holds her hands up in surrender. “I’m going to go find my softball friends. Maybe I can play catch with one of them. Whatever softball players do.”
Yolanda shoots her a grateful look as she walks away. Though Chad obviously doesn’t know where he is right now, he’s about to find out he’s not where he should be. She makes a beeline for Coach Robby and slides up to him, sipping her beer.
“Robby,” she says, nodding towards Yolanda and her friends, “I know how much athletic department overspending irks you, or whatever, but see that guy?” She points to Chad and Robby follows her eyeline. “He’s freeloading. Some stupid opportunist who used his frat bro to get in. He’s also being overly touchy with some of the cheerleaders. Any chance you could maybe see to that?”
Robby’s not stupid. He might be a little old-fashioned and callous in his coaching style, but when it comes to player management, he tends to do well. The whole “woman” thing had been a bit hard to overcome, but they’ve built enough rapport that Trinity feels like she can ask this sort of thing of him. He also absolutely knows exactly why she’s asking. “Okay, Santos. Leave it with me.”
Not even five minutes pass before Chad is dragged out of the hall kicking and screaming. After a laugh at his expense, Trinity goes on with her night.
It’s not until they’re back at Yolanda’s apartment that her girlfriend says anything about the matter. “So,” she starts, taking her earrings out and putting them on their ceramic dish, “Chad was a bit annoying.”
Trinity grumbles. “He was a dickhead.”
“I know. I can’t believe you got him kicked out.”
Trinity freezes halfway through shucking her belt off. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I can’t believe you got him kicked out.” She walks closer, heels still exacerbating their height difference. “I saw you go and talk to Robby, then two minutes later he was sent packing. I’m supposed to believe that was a coincidence?”
She sighs through her nose and runs a hand through her hair. “Baby… he was all over you. I fucking hated it. You looked so uncomfortable and I just wanted—”
“Hey, hey, Trin. Darling.” Yolanda reaches out to cup her jaw, then brushes some hair off her forehead. “Thank you. He was being a dick. I just don’t want you to put yourself into the spotlight because of me.”
She leans into her girlfriend’s touch, nuzzling into her cupped palm. “I’d do anything for you, Yolanda. You know that.”
“I do.” The smile on her face is bright enough to power every light in their house, if not the street. “My handsome girl.” She leans in and presses the softest of kisses to her lips. Trinity, again, melts into her, and relaxes for the first time since they left for the dinner.
She hums against Yolanda’s lips and wraps her arms around her waist. They sit there for a moment, content to exist with each other, until Yolanda scratches at her scalp and pulls away for air. Trintiy runs her hands up and down her sides reverently, then shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe how incredible you look right now, baby. I was looking for you all night.”
“I could tell.” Yolanda runs her hands through Trinity’s hair before dropping one down to fiddle with her collar. “You’ve gotta be more subtle. People will start to notice things.”
“Let them,” she breathes out, focused completely on the dance of Yolanda’s fingers on her neck, “I don’t care.”
“Yes you do.”
“Ugh. I do.” Trinity steps impossibly closer and Yolanda’s hand descends to the knot of her tie. “You know I love you, right?”
Yolanda smiles. It’s not the first time they’ve said it, but it’s still so fresh that every affirmation feels special. “I do. And I love you.”
“Good. Fuck Chad.”
“Fuck Chad,” Yolanda agrees with a chuckle, then pulls Trinity in by her tie for a searing kiss.
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[trinitysantos9] vic.javadi
Replied to your story: so did u mean to post this to your story or
Trinity shifts slightly in Yolanda’s arms. The way they’re situated on her bed means her girlfriend’s strong arms are wrapped around her while her head lies on her chest. Yolanda’s hand that isn’t clutching her phone strokes her hair, and Trinity had been on the verge of falling asleep as a result before Victoria texted her.
[trinitysantos9]
??
wdym
She swipes out of Instagram and continues her game of sudoku. It’s intensely calming after a long day of practice. Unfortunately for her and her mental state, Victoria texts back straight away.
[vic.javadi]
i can literally see yolanda’s cheer uniform in the bg of ur pic ijbol
for someone trying to keep their relo a secret u are soooo unsubtle
Trinity groans and snuggles further into Yolanda’s body. Her girlfriend barely registers it, apparently locked in to her daily Instagram Reels scroll. Every now and then she’ll put her phone in front of Trinity’s face and tell her to watch, always showing her something goofy like a falling over compilation or—God forbid—her own highlights. She diligently laughs at the funny ones and ignores the Santos glaze.
[trinitysantos9]
bruh
deadass
[vic.javadi]
ass so dead it’s six feet under and rotting
[trinitysantos9]
yeah thanks for that visual
fucking freak
[vic.javadi]
wow, victoria, youre so kind and caring and i love that u let me know about my mishap.
aw trin you’re so lovely. thank you<3
[trinitysantos9]
you are so fucking annoying that’s what you are
Trinity swipes out of her conversation with Victoria and looks at her story again. It’s a sponsored ad some cookie brand had paid her a lot of money to do in which she sits at her dining table and reviews some of their product. She zooms in on the background, and sure enough Yolanda’s cheer uniform is hanging over the back of her couch. The blue and yellow of Pitt could be passed off for her own clothes, but the angle makes it glaringly obvious that it’s very much not a football uniform. Swiping out of it and discarding her phone to her bedside table, she turns in Yolanda’s arms and snuggles into her neck.
“Hi, cariño,” Yolanda says, Reels still playing at a respectable volume, “you okay?”
“I just posted that cookie ad.”
“Good job, baby.”
“Yeah, thanks, apart from the fact your whole cheerleading outfit is visible in the back.”
Trinity feels the laugh before she hears it. Her hand keeps running through her hair and the distinct sound of another Reel comes through her tinny phone speakers. “You didn’t wanna check the background before posting? Rookie mistake.”
“I just wanted to get it done.”
“Aw, corazón.” Yolanda puts her phone down and holds her tighter. “I don’t care. People probably assume you’re hooking up with a cheerleader. They just don’t know it’s me.”
“I’m sure people are connecting the dots.” Her voice is muffled against the soft shirt on Yolanda’s chest. “Like if you have eyes it’s really not that difficult.”
“I know.” There’s a pause, and Trinity focuses on the hand in her hair. “I know we decided to keep it under wraps, but what’s the harm in it now?”
“In what?”
“Becoming a bit more… open?”
Trinity sighs. She’s been thinking about it too. All these close calls and sneaking around don’t make for a fun relationship. Not to mention Yolanda’s only got one semester of college left once the season is over. She wants to make the most of it, not stay holed up in her apartment keeping a secret that doesn’t really need to be kept.
“I’d like that. You know it scares me, though.”
“I know, mi amor.” Yolanda manoeuvres so her head is on the pillow, and nudges Trinity until they’re face to face. “But I’ll be here with you every step of the way. Think of all the people who know already: Dennis, Victoria, Samira, Parker. They don’t care. They love you just the same.”
“Well, yeah, they’re all some flavour of gay.”
Yolanda chuckles. “Still, baby. It’s your life. You’re not gonna get dropped from the team or lose sponsors. And I’m fairly certain Robby knows too.”
“Oh, he absolutely does.” Trinity sighs, closing her eyes. “But what if I do lose sponsors? What if teams don’t draft me because I fell in love with you?”
She feels Yolanda’s thumb wipe at her cheek with so much reverence it scares her. Opening her eyes again, she catches her girlfriend smiling at her like she hung the stars. “If that happens, you can literally sue them for discrimination. You’re going to win the Heisman this year, baby.”
“Diego Pavia went undrafted after coming second.”
“Okay, sure, but he’s notoriously a shit. And also bad at football.”
Trinity snickers. “You can say that again.”
“Baby, listen to me.” Yolanda shuffles closer and keeps her hand on Trinity’s cheek. She nuzzles into it and smiles at the gesture. “You have earnt every good thing you’ve received in this life. Yes, there will be people who hate you when you come out. But those people don’t know you. They don’t deserve the light you bring to the life of everyone you love. Your skill as an athlete and your merit as a person doesn’t go away just because some losers from Bumfuck, Arkansas think you’re lesser than because of who you love.”
“You’ve already broken so many barriers. Pitt has never had a female QB before you, but since you’ve been here they’ve already recruited another one. There are female QBs all over the NCAA thanks to you. What’s one more wall to run through?”
Trinity feels a tear spring to her eye. “I know. I know, I get it. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to make a decision now, mi vida. But you should probably be a little more careful with your Instagram stories if you’re not ready.”
Trinity laughs and takes the opportunity to press her face into Yolanda’s neck. Even though she’s so much to so many people, always being pulled in a million different directions, she knows she has Yolanda to come home to and be herself with. There’s no better feeling than lying in her arms and feeling like she means more than her arm.
They lie there, fully content to enjoy each other’s warmth, until Trinity’s phone buzzes again.
“It’s Huckleberry,” she says, and twists in Yolanda’s arms to open the phone. Yolanda keeps her chin on her shoulder as they spoon, then barks out a laugh as they read the messages.
[trinitysantos9] dwhit27
Replied to your story: Was this an accident?
Trinity
SOS SOS SOS 🚨🚨🚨
“Oh my god,” she mutters, and Yolanda keeps laughing as she presses a kiss to her jaw. Oh well. It’ll all work itself out. There’s no rush.
⋆ ˚｡⋆ + 1 ⋆｡˚ ⋆
Trinity takes a deep breath and scans the defence. It’s fourth-and-two at the twenty-yard line. There’s 7 seconds remaining on the stopped clock and they’re down by the same amount of points, and Bank of America Stadium is shaking with the sound of 75,000 college students and supporters cheering her on. She’s facing the blue half, while the student section behind her is decked out in the maroon of Florida State. She quickly rubs her hands together for some warmth then starts her cadence.
Her heart thumps out of her chest. This is it. The ACC Championship outcome depends on her. This is her last chance to impress Heisman voters, her last chance to play with some of the people she’s come to love. She looks at her own offence; Langdon back from turf toe out wide to her left, Mateo crouching next to the o-line, Cassie in the slot, Parker on the right sideline and Dennis next to her in the shotgun. They’ve all played a role in bringing her here, and she’s not going to let them down.
With a final deep breath, she claps her hands and the stadium roars. She fakes a handoff to Dennis who runs into the flat, then looks up at her options. Langdon has run straight to the endzone, a designed bluff to occupy FSU’s best corner and safety. Cassie runs a slant across the middle to distract their middle linebacker, while Parker turns on her heel in a perfectly executed curl route. But she only has eyes for one man.
Mateo darts past the linebackers and into the soft spot between them and the free safety. It’s just those two, and Mateo has both size and speed on him. Trinity sets her feet, twists her hips and launches a dime.
The whole stadium holds their breath as the ball spins in the air. It’s a perfect throw, Trinity knew it the second it left her hand. But the job’s not done. It spins and spins until it starts descending, and Mateo holds his hands out to catch it. The safety is nowhere near him, so all he has to do is hold on.
The crowd realises before Trinity. The blue section in front of her jumps up and screams as Mateo hauls it in and dashes the extra yard into the endzone jubilantly. She did it! It’s 31-30 as time expires, but the job’s not over: now all they need to decide is whether to send the game to overtime or take the two.
First, though, she sprints to the endzone and swarms Mateo with her teammates. A few try to pat her on the back, but she’s got tunnel vision. “Yes, Diaz!” she screams, shoving his helmet. “You’re fucking insane, dude, what a catch.”
“All you, Santos,” he replies, smile wide as they bump their helmets together. Her other teammates congratulate them both, but the voice in her helmet crackles to life.
“Santos,” comes Robby’s voice, “we’re going for two.”
She covers her ears and looks up to see him holding two fingers up on the sideline. She can’t talk back, so all she can do is nod.
“I believe in you,” he says, and she gives him a thumbs up.
The crowd only grows in strength as they realise the offence is staying on the field. Trinity has to remove herself from the huddle so she can hear Robby’s playcall, then relays it to the team with the loudest voice she can muster. Everyone seems to be on the same page, so she breaks the huddle and lines them up.
With another deep breath, she starts her cadence. The hard part was done. They’re at the three yard line now; all she needs is to score again. Doesn’t matter how. Score, and they’re immortal.
This time, when she claps her hands, FSU sends pressure. She immediately weaves away from a searching hand then ducks under another, before regaining her bearings and scanning the field. Langdon is double-teamed, Mateo has the linebacker on him this time, and Cassie and Parker are too close to each other to affect anything. That leaves Dennis.
They’ve been best friends all three years they’ve been on the team together. They know each other’s game like the back of their hand. It’s why she immediately looks to her left and sees him open. She goes to start throwing, but at the last second notices the defensive end for FSU has broken free of his assignment and has his arms in the air. Too late to stop her motion, she pump fakes and tucks the ball.
Okay, so Dennis is a no.
She scans one more time before realising what has to be done. As if she was Moses himself, the o-line in front of her opens up and, considering FSU had sent 6, there’s no one between her and the endzone. With one last deep breath, she puts her head down and runs.
There’s only three yards between her and glory. She gets out of the pocket and hears the crowd roar with anticipation, then jukes the last remaining linebacker before putting her head up and seeing blue paint. She strides forward and crosses the line to the loudest sound she’s ever heard.
They’ve done it. Pitt are the ACC Champions and Trinity won it for them. She holds her hands up in the air and lets her teammates pile onto her, making sure to keep hold of the ball as a memento. They all yell and scream and shake her as they celebrate, and the crowd joins in, Hail to Pitt ringing throughout the stadium. Trinity’s never felt anything like this. It’s insane. A whole stadium of people cheering her name and yelling “MVP!” like they were paid to do it. Goosebumps prickle up and down her arms. It’s a frankly unbelievable feeling.
They start dispersing while the rest of the team runs onto the field, and Trinity’s never been lifted into the air more times in her life than she is over the next few minutes. Everyone wants a piece of her. The linemen throw her between them and her closest friends engulf her in sweet hugs. But the further she gets from the middle of the field, the more she realises there’s only one person she wants to see.
She gives the match-winning ball to Dennis for safekeeping before going on the prowl for her girlfriend. The cheerleaders had been roaming around the stadium all game, but now the familiar uniforms and pompoms seem to be evading her. She turns around, looking everywhere, until finally she spots them near the bench.
Taking off at a sprint, she runs and runs while the crowd disperses around her to give her space. At some point, she unbuckles her helmet and throws it towards the bench, then slows down while she waits for Yolanda to notice her.
Samira sees her first. Her face lights up, then she nudges Yolanda, who turns around instantly. Her face is flushed red from the effort of the game but her curly ponytail is still perfectly in place down to the big blue bow. Trinity’s smile grows impossibly wide as the tables turn and Yolanda runs towards her this time, pompoms discarded along the way. Trinity opens her arms for the love of her life and Yolanda jumps into them, wrapping her own arms around Trinity’s neck with all her might.
Trinity doesn’t even think about it. Her arms lock around her waist and she pulls Yolanda in as far as she can, then kisses her.
Feet still in the air, Yolanda kisses back like it’s the first time. Her wrists cross behind Trinity’s neck and she goes completely limp, so Trinity’s tired arms hold her up like she’s the globe. Their lips move against each other like they were destined to do so, right here, right now, in front of tens of thousands in the stadium and millions watching at home.
It’s so easy. It feels like they’ve been doing this forever, claiming each other for all to see. Trinity lets Yolanda down to the ground but doesn’t break the kiss, chasing her lips with far too much intensity for international television. It’s fine, though, cause she knows she’d give anything to keep this moment exactly how it is.
After what feels like forever, they slowly break apart sporting matching smiles. “Trin,” Yolanda says, eyebrows scrunching in disbelief, “you are so incredible.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Trinity replies, tilting her head teasingly. “I was looking for you all game, you know.”
“I do know! I could see you!” Yolanda brings one hand around to cup her cheek. “I wanted to tell you to focus on the game, but you didn’t need my help.”
“I had your help the whole time, baby. Knowing you’re there watching me just… I dunno. Makes me feel so special.”
“Darling girl,” Yolanda says, brushing her bangs back behind her ear. They’re held up by the sweatband around her head but she’ll never complain about her girlfriend’s hands on her face. “You are so special. Look at all these people cheering you on. You did this. They’ll talk about that scramble for the rest of their lives.”
“Isn’t that wild?”
“Nope,” Yolanda grins, shaking her head, “I always knew you could do it.”
Trinity ducks her head. “Thank you, mahal.”
“Of course.” Yolanda runs a hand through her sweaty hair with a smile. “Go celebrate with the team. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Why don’t you come, we can—”
“No, mi amor. Look. They’re all waiting for their QB.”
Trinity turns to see most of the football team staring at them, slack-jawed. Before she unpacks that, she swivels back to face Yolanda. “Cat’s out of the bag.”
“It is. That happened when you decided to kiss me on national television, Trin.”
“I know. I felt ready.”
“Good.” Yolanda leans in and kisses her sweetly once more. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Trinity runs her hands up and down her sides, enjoying the cheerleading uniform on her girlfriend. “I know. But here we are.”
“Here we are.” With one final kiss, Trinity says goodbye and walks back to her teammates. Dennis just rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face tells a bigger story. Parker, who already knew, daps her up.
“Who knew little Santos would have the balls to make out with her cheerleader girlfriend like that? We thought you were gonna get on your knees, man.”
“Funny, Ellis,” Trinity says, but the grin overcoming her face makes sarcasm hard, “sorry for celebrating our win.”
“Oh, no, don’t apologise. You’ve opened the door for the rest of us.”
Trinity follows her eyeline towards one Samira Mohan. Parker waves, and Samira returns it, a little smile on her face. Shocked, Trinity turns back around and play-punches her in the arm. “I told you my secret and you kept this from me????”
“Oh, Santos, don’t get it twisted. There’s no secret being kept. I’m making my move tonight.”
She points her finger directly into Parker’s chest. “That’s the wave of two people who have fucked. Don’t lie to me right now.”
Parker shrugs her shoulders. “I guess we’ll never know.”
“For the record,” Mateo butts in, clambering over his teammates, “I’m the one who set them up.”
Trinity and Dennis look at each other then burst out laughing. “Okay, Mateo.”
“What? I introduced you at that frat party at the end of August. You have me to thank!”
“Diaz, I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this.” Trinity walks forward and puts her hands on his shoulders. “We’d been dating for, like, nine months before that.”
His jaw drops, as do many of the teammates around them. “Are you deadass?”
“Fully.”
“Wow. Okay.” He feigns stumbling and puts his hand to his forehead. “My whole world has been turned upside down.”
“Guys,” Cassie steps in, ever the mum of the group as the oldest on the offence, “let’s let Trinity have her moment without bombarding her, okay? We just won the ACC Championship and all anyone cares about is her love life.”
“Wow, thank you, McKay—”
“But I am very curious as to how you two met. And why you kept it a secret.”
Trinity groans as the questions start up again and don’t look like stopping. She rolls her eyes, then turns around to where she last saw Yolanda. When she finds her, she sees her girlfriend swamped by her cheer teammates, all of them seemingly going crazy at the lore drop. Trinity’s eyes must surely be cartoon hearts as she watches her girlfriend and smiles. Everything she’s ever wanted just came true on this football field in North Carolina. Just as she’s about to look away, Yolanda locks eyes with her; a beaming smile overcomes her face and she waves, to which Trinity waves back.
Then, as they’re celebrating the biggest achievement of her college career, she mouths three words across the field.
I love you.
Trinity repeats them, then turns back to her teammates and indulges in the spotlight.
(Later, in Trinity’s massive hotel bed, Yolanda will say those three words again on the verge of sleep with her face tucked into Trinity’s neck. She’s never meant it the way she says it to Trinity; it’s safe to say they’ll never have the same meaning for anyone else again. She’ll stroke her girlfriend’s short hair, ends curling from residual sweat she’s accrued throughout the afternoon and night, and hum in content.
“What’s up, babe?” Trinity will say, her biceps flexing around Yolanda’s bare back.
“Nothing,” she’ll reply, then kiss the underside of her jaw, “I’m just so happy.”
“Me too.” There’ll be silence for a second, then Trinity will speak again. “I’m sorry if I made your decision for you, you know, before—”
“Trin,” she’ll cut her off, a hand coming up to cup her jaw and eyes meeting, “there was never going to be a moment more perfect than that. And hey, it means you don’t have to do it on the Heisman red carpet.”
Her girlfriend will bark out a laugh. “You have to get your dress this week.”
“I can’t wait to see how handsome you’ll look in your suit.”
“You’ve seen me in it already.”
“I know.” She’ll trail her fingernails up Trinity’s chest, tracing the freckle on her right and stopping at the tip of her nose. “But I can’t wait to see you in it while I’m next to you, showing the whole world who you are and who you love.”
She’ll feel Trinity’s dimples under her own cheek and return the smile. “I know. I’m excited, too.”
Yolanda will nod and curl back into her neck. “Never apologise, mi amor. You made a good call. A clutch play, even.”
Trinity will laugh, and it’ll sound like everything she’s ever wanted. “I’m good in the clutch.”
“Aren’t you ever.” She’ll kiss her jaw, then pull the duvet up until it’s under their chins. “I love you. And I’m so proud of you.”
Trinity will kiss her forehead then wrap her strong arms around her. “Thank you. And I love you more.”
Yolanda will smile to herself. Not possible. “I don’t think so.”
“Mmm, trust me on this one.”)