“Leaving so soon?” She heard, teeth bared from her spot at the door. Beck had seen…seconds of it, fists clenched in the urge to rise to Sasha’s defense, before she realized what was going on. Oh. Wow. If she didn’t feel stupid before, she definitely felt like it now.
So she turned, jaw clenched in a rising fury, not sure where to go just…anywhere but here. Crying wasn’t an option, anymore. So she tucked her head downward, barely catching a flash of red before barreling into it, uplifted eyes met with a foxlike sneer.
“Hey, spaz.”
A beat. Fingers pressed against her lips as she was dragged roughly into a closet. “I bet you’re looking for your date, huh?” Heather (one of her least favorite ex-teammates) drawled, batting her eyelashes in a way that was far from innocent. “Sasha, is it? Pretty. I saw her leaving towards the lockers with a teammate of mine, his lips on her neck and…”
“Shut up, Heather.” Beck growled, feral glint in her eyes, rage bubbling hot in her throat. She tried to work through the feeling, count floor tiles or whatever, but this wasn’t the kind of thing you could control. So she backed into a corner, trying to keep both of them safe through proximity…but Heather’s eyes followed like she was sizing up prey.
“We could get back at her, you know. I always thought you were charming— in a scrappy, homeless dog kind of way,” the redhead began, running her tongue against her top teeth, “so if you wanted to…”
“No,” Beck replied, knuckles whitening as her hands gripped dents in the shelf. “Just leave me alone, okay?”
“Sure, Rebecca,” Heather replied, laughing. Having seemed to expect it, her gaze remained apathetic, burning sharp with a flip of her curls. The name alone was enough to bring her blood to a boil. The Hornet stepped forward, cornering Beck, almost willing her to do something. Drawing so close she could taste the cinnamon on her breath. “Rebecca, Rebecca,” Heather clicked, voice barely above a whisper, “did you know I used to always be jealous of you? Plucked out of the streets, the perfect underdog story. And you played like you were made for the goal. I played…what, four games in the entirety of my high school career? Once when you got food poisoning, twice when you got red cards, and a forth in a scrimmage after you…well, went totally batshit.” Beck narrowed her eyes, fighting the urge to whip an elbow and floor the girl right there. Heather seemed to notice, smirking lightly. “Now, now, we wouldn’t want you to get stuck behind bars again and miss out on all the fun would we? What, with your promising career and all. Your team of misfits, dates who’d obviously rather be fucking other people, and…oh, your complete lack of talent outside of the goal. You honestly think you’re gonna be something? No one cares, Rebecca. You’re nothing, you’ve always been so pathe…”
That was it. The final straw. Her hands grabbed the redhead and slammed her into the wall, fists raised, and then… light.
“Zia?”
Beck blinked, loosening her grip on Heather, allowing the girl to pass by with a wink and a rough shove at her teammate. “Shit. Uh, how much did you, um…?”