No Pressure Pt. 01

Hi there! Thanks for checking out my story. This is the first I've ever shared, so I welcome productive feedback. Please keep in mind that I'm new to the platform and new to creative writing in general. I've previously really only used creative writing as a form of personal therapy. And while this story still serves that purpose, it has fewer elements of "me" in it than usual.

If this gets a positive response, I'll write a Part Two from Kelsey's POV.

Part One

Beckett was laid out across the backseat of Sam and Sylvie's four-door Wrangler listening to a book while their teammates argued about the best route to take to Philadelphia. The two didn't fight often and usually only about directions. But maybe that did mean that they fought often because they were literally on the road most of the year. Beckett snickered to themself and sat upright again. It sounded like Sam & Sylvie were done with their disagreement.

"What are you laughing at, Buckets?" Sam asked from the driver's seat. Beckett didn't love the nickname but it was their own fault. They wore a bucket hat to a team meeting and their teammates have never let them live it down. Which was appropriate, given how terrible that stupid hat looked on them. It was the first and last time that they took fashion advice from their sixteen year-old nibling.

"You two," they said, pulling their headphones from their ears. "You spend most of your time driving from one place to another, do you bicker over which interstate to take when you're on the road too?"

Sylvie turned to face Beckett over her left shoulder. "Only when we're driving to or around the Philadelphia area. They insist that we take the weirdest routes." Considering that Sam was from the Philly area, that wasn't surprising to Beckett. "But enough about I-95, are you excited?"

This was Beckett's first trip to the annual queer women's+ tournament, it was in a different location each year and included more than a hundred teams. Hell yeah, they were excited! Despite their team going almost every year, they'd never been able to; Laura had made certain of that. Even when their local league in Portland, Maine hosted the tournament, Laura insisted that it was unfair to her for Beckett to play when they knew she couldn't. She was a teacher and the tournament was scheduled during an in-service week.

Beckett used to think it was a jealousy thing, but close to a year after their breakup, they finally understood what it really was - control. Laura needed to control Beckett. She had no reason to believe that Beckett would ever cheat on her but she used insecurities that she held onto from previous relationships to justify her fears. And Beckett was too afraid to walk away; afraid that no one would love them but Laura.

Beckett was ready to put all of that behind them and enjoy the tournament they'd dreamed of going to for so long. A tournament full of queer people, many of them single according to her teammates in the front seat. They'd been to more than a dozen of these tournaments each, so they were giving Beckett the lay of the land.

"So, obviously," Sam said motioning towards their wife, "it's not a tournament of only single people, I'd say like twenty-five percent."

"You said there'd be a lot of single people! I brought my... you know..." Beckett trailed off, hoping their friends would fill in the blanks.

"Well Sam has no room to talk," Sylvie paused to watch her wife roll their eyes at her, "but I can make fun of you."

"I didn't hear you complaining."

"Gross, gross, I don't need to hear about my moms fucking on the balcony of a hotel room again." Beckett said, shoving their fingers in their ears dramatically. They only referred to the two as their moms when they talked about sex or when Beckett had to stay at their house after a long night out with the team and the two took care of them.

"Anyway," Sam said, returning to the topic at hand. "Twenty-five percent is still a lot of queer women and gender-diverse folks. That's like..."

"At least three or four-hundred people," Sylvie said, finishing Sam's sentence and saving them from having to do the math in their head.

"That's a lot of people to compete with." Beckett had been working out a little more lately to prepare for the tournament and they were feeling fairly confident about themself, but there was always a little voice in the back of their head saying they weren't good enough.

Sylvie rolled her eyes. "Trust me, people are going to be all over you. Fresh blood. New meat. But we have to come up with a warning sign that we can give you if you're talking to someone that we know brings a lot of drama with them." Sylvie had played in several leagues over the years and Sam played in Philadelphia until they met Sylvie and opted for life on the road. So they knew a lot of the people who went to this tournament year after year.

"I know! We'll bring you a drink that is red for red flag." Sam seemed very proud of themself for the idea.

"A red drink? You know I don't drink liquor," Beckett said, making a gagging sound. They did not get along with liquor anymore and especially didn't want whatever might make a drink red in color. Cranberry juice? No thanks, they weren't twenty-two anymore.

"You don't have to drink it, it's just a way to get you out of a conversation," Sam replied.

"And if it's someone we really like for you, we'll bring you something green," Sylvie added.

"Green?" Beckett was trying to picture a green drink. Apple? Melon?

"We'll make them beers or seltzers, how's that? Whatever color is on the can or bottle." Sam was always the problem-solver.

"It seems a little elaborate, but ok." Beckett thought maybe they could just make a cawing sound instead of this complicated drink system.

"We're married and we're a decade older than you, we don't have fun often, let us play our game," Sylvie said with a laugh.

"Fine," Beckett said, putting their earbuds back in and stretching across the backseat again. "But only because it'll get me free drinks."

After the long drive down, Beckett called it an early night, but the next morning they awoke with enough energy for all three roommates.

Sam and Sylvie opted to sleep in while Beckett took an early morning tour of the city. They wound up running all the way to the Art Museum before turning back to their hotel near City Hall. Four miles was a little more than they usually ran, but their energy didn't fade one bit.

After a late breakfast with Sam and Sylvie, they squeezed two more teammates, Ashley and Frankie, into the Jeep and made their way across the bridge to the fields where the tournament would take place. Despite it being a Philadelphia tournament, the fields were actually in New Jersey just a few minutes over the bridge.

"Why don't they just use the fields that they play at in their regular season?" Frankie had asked Sam.

Sam laughed in response. "Because those fields are terrible. And they don't have fences. And they don't have lights. So South Jersey it is."

The tournament didn't start until the next day, but there were events at the fields to welcome everyone to the tournament. A home run derby was scheduled but rumor had it that no one was going to enter the contest. It would have been like putting a target on their back before the tournament even started. Don't show off until the bracket starts, that was their coach's philosophy.

So while Beckett could have probably gotten a few over the short fence that they'd set up at just 200 feet, they opted not to enter the derby. Instead, they joined a few of their teammates in the flip cup tournament that was taking place on a nearby soccer field. There really was nothing quite like chugging beer on a Wednesday afternoon while a large group of people yelled at you.

Beckett's team, Flip Mode Squad - not affiliated with Busta Rhymes - had easily taken out the first four teams they faced, knocking Fan-Flippin-Tastic, Cup Size Matters, I'd Flip That, and hometown favorites Flipadelphia out of the tournament. They only had to win three more and they were in the championship. The prizes? Bats. Crazy expensive, top of the line, most highly reviewed bats.

As Dunder Flipplin' stepped up to the table, Beckett let out a super unattractive burp only to turn around and find a super attractive person standing across from them. Shit. According to her name tag, which conveniently included her pronouns and the city her team was from, her name was Kelsey and she was from Scranton.

"That was cute," the stranger said with a smirk. If Beckett was reading it right, a flirtatious smirk.

"Thank you, I thought so too," Beckett teased back. "So, Kelsey, are you actually from Scranton or is that all part of the joke with your team name?"

"Well, Beckett, we are from Scranton but we play in the Philly league. We joined this year so we could qualify to come to this tournament. We don't get to play many other teams with openly queer people up there, so it was a really fun year. We'll probably stick around if they'll keep us."

"So this is your first time at this tournament?" Beckett asked.

"Yeah, we didn't even know about it until one of their players started dating one of our players."

No red flags so far. Sylvie and Sam probably didn't know her, but that also meant that they didn't know of any drama she could be involved with, so that was positive. No ring. Not that everyone wore a ring these days, but it was a good sign. And the people to the left and right of her were not standing in a way that said, this is my partner. Don't you dare hit on her.

"So is this your first time too?" Kelsey asked.

"Yeah, I've been in the Portland league for a while now, but never made it to the tournament."

"Whoa, you came from across the country for this thing?"

"Sorry, Portland, Maine. But there are definitely teams from the west coast here. A few from Canada too."

"How did I not know about this before?" Kelsey shook her head as if she'd missed something obvious. "Anyway. Nice to meet you, Beckett from Portland, Maine." She extended her hand, a bright smile lighting up her face and causing a warmth to rise in Beckett's core.

"You as well, Kelsey from Scranton, Pennsylvania." Beckett shook Kelsey's hand softly and looked for the slight hitch in her breath that they were hoping to see. And they did. Good to know that it wasn't a one-sided feeling.

Unfortunately, the flirtations were a bit short-lived. On the final cup of the final game of the match, Kelsey and Beckett were racing to land the last cup on its head when Beckett's knocked into Kelsey's before landing perfectly to end the game while her cup got pushed off of the table.

"That's bullshit, you knocked my cup off." Kelsey snapped the words at Beckett before they could even turn to their teammates to celebrate.

"It wasn't intentional," Beckett said, trying to defend themself. Unlike their gentle shit-talking throughout the match, this accusation was real. But they didn't do anything wrong, it was just part of the game.

"You're a fuckin' cheater." Kelsey said, practically screaming over the cacophony of cheers to Beckett's sides. Then she walked away as if the ten minutes prior to that had never even happened. Like they hadn't been playfully teasing each other and giving each other I'm totally going to make out with you in a crowded bar tonight eyes.

Flipmode Squad lost to Flip Cup for What in the next round and Beckett was grateful for the reprieve from pouring beer down their throat. They needed something to eat and fast.

Luckily, Sam was in full mom-mode and had picked up a burger, chips, and a bottle of water for Beckett while they were finishing their last game.

"Sam, do you know someone named Kelsey from Scranton?" Beckett asked through a mouthful of cheeseburger.

"The Kelsey from Scranton that you were relentlessly flirting with until you knocked her cup off of the table?" Sylvie asked before Sam could reply.

"It wasn't intentional!"

"Rookie mistake, Buckets, you needed to let her win," Sam said, nudging Beckett with their shoulder. "But no, I don't know her. One of my friends on Brews on First said the team just joined this year. No one really knows them."

"You don't just let people win because they're gorgeous." Beckett wasn't going to let the whole team down just because the most attractive person at the whole tournament was standing in front of them. Not that they'd seen everyone at the tournament yet, but there was a slim chance that there was someone more beautiful than Kelsey out there.

"No, you let them win because you want to sleep with them." Sam said as if it were obvious.

Sylvie gave Sam a firm shove. "Jesus, babe, that's a little manipulative. Do you let me win just because you want to sleep with me?" She asked them.

"Not usually..."

"Stop flirting with each other in front of me, it's gross."

"Beckett, we're not actually your moms, you know that, right?" Sylvie asked, almost keeping a straight face. "And if you don't think your actual moms are still having sex, you're delusional."

Beckett chatted with a few other people that afternoon, but no one sent that wave of warmth through them when they shook hands like Kelsey had. Sam and Sylvie had only needed to rescue Beckett from one conversation that was just not going well and they hadn't handed them any red party cups, which was mildly disappointing because they wanted the beer that came with it.

They'd tried to make eye contact with Kelsey a few times, but she seemed to be actively trying to avoid looking anywhere in Beckett's direction. Should Beckett have let her win? Why were they so focused on this one person with so many beautiful, single people in the same area at the same time?

Beckett had truly never seen anything like the Opening Party they arrived at later on Wednesday. The waterfront venue made the Delaware River look surprisingly beautiful, despite the pollution that Sam claimed filled its waters. A few local queer bands rotated through short sets in one area of the massive outdoor space that had been reserved just for tournament attendees while the event organizers prepared the primary stage for Opening Ceremonies.

There. Were. Queer. People. Everywhere.

Outside of Pride festivals, Beckett hadn't seen so many LGBTQIA+ folx in one place. And at Pride, at least half of the attendees were cisgender men, who were a rare find at this tournament since they weren't permitted to play in the tournament. The only cis-men around were significant others, coaches, volunteers from the local league, and spectators.

Beckett had modified the t-shirt that their league had given them for the Opening Ceremonies so it was less of a t-shirt and more of a piece of fabric that left very little to the imagination. Beckett might have shown up in only a sports bra if Sam and Sylvie had let them. They were proud of how hard they had been working to get both physically and mentally healthy after their breakup with Laura eleven months prior and there was no better place to show off the former than a party with their community.

After weaving their way through the crowd, Beckett and their team made it to the registration area where they had to sign in for the tournament. Beckett groaned at the long line and asked Sylvie why they didn't stop at the bar first, but Sylvie pointed out the small bar that was set up just a few more feet into the queue.

"It's there so you don't have to go to the bar and wait in line just to get in this line and wait more. Two birds, one stone," Sylvie said.

Seltzer in hand, Beckett and their team made their way to the front of the line to find Kelsey sitting at the registration table. She was talking to someone who, according to their t-shirt, was from Chicago. Though Sam had mentioned that people often trade shirts at the opening party, both as a way of taking off their clothes in front of someone they are attracted to and as a way of obtaining souvenirs from the tournament. So they could have been from anywhere, really.

Whoever they were and wherever they were from, they were laying it on thick with Kelsey. She didn't seem to be returning their obvious flirtation, but Beckett felt an unfamiliar pang of jealousy. They'd never been jealous of anyone flirting with Laura and they were together for five years. Why were they jealous of this person flirting with someone they barely knew? And who had accused them of cheating at a trivial game of flip cup?

When Kelsey's line opened up, Beckett considered letting one of their teammates go in front of them so they could avoid any further conflict, but they were inexplicably drawn to her. They told themself it was just to clear the air and put it behind them for the week and stepped up to Kelsey's station.

"Beckett from Portland, Maine, are you stalking me?" Kelsey asked, her voice as playful as it had been before the cheating accusations. It caught Beckett off-guard and they could only get out a few ums and uhs before Kelsey continued. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I get competitive and I overreact when I'm frustrated with myself," she explained.

Beckett was honestly a bit shocked to hear the apology. They had intended to apologize to her for getting so into the game that their cup was flipping aggressively enough to knock Kelsey's off of the beer-soaked table. "It's not a big deal," Beckett said. "It was just surprising because I thought we'd been getting along and..."

"We were. And I shouldn't have done that. Let me buy you a drink when my shift is done in a half hour?" Kelsey asked.

"I'm the one who knocked your cup off of the table," Beckett said with a wink. "I think I owe you the drink."

"My empty cup," Kelsey corrected. "Seriously, please let me make it up to you?"

Beckett's mind went straight to the many, many ways Kelsey could make it up to them and the many, many ways they wanted to make it up to her.

Get it together, you're like a horny teenager, Beckett scolded themself before agreeing to let Kelsey buy them a drink.

Beckett was emerging from the merchandise tent when Kelsey found them. "There you are. You were with your team when I got done so I went straight to the bar to get our drinks but you were gone when I got back." Kelsey handed them the semi-cold can. "They didn't have the pineapple seltzer you were drinking before so I got lime. One of your teammates was next to me at the bar and they said you like it."

Beckett laughed. It was a green can. They looked for Sam in the crowd and found them staring directly at Beckett and Kelsey with a mischievous grin. Beckett didn't like lime seltzer all that much and Sam knew there were at least three other flavors they would have picked before lime. A green can for a green light.

They thanked Kelsey for the drink and spent most of the rest of the party with her talking and playing the various lawn games that were scattered on the deck. But only on the same team as Kelsey, never opposite her. They'd learned their lesson.

Beckett was enamored by how absolutely stunning Kelsey was. Her long brown hair had been down most of the night but was pulled into a ponytail when they made their way to the dance floor. It was there that Beckett considered kissing her, but with all of the noise and people bumping into them, they thought better of it. The tournament hadn't even started yet. They had plenty of chances ahead of them to properly make a move.

On Thursday morning, Beckett's team, Sticks and Stoners - aptly named for the dispensary-sponsored team of unapologetic potheads - won their first game easily. Beckett was happy with their performance, starting the tournament batting .750 with two RBIs and a couple of clutch double-plays. If they won their next game, they could relax a bit in their final two pool play games and get an ideal spot in the middle of the bracket.