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"Carmen!” Fina wailed then melted, dejected, into the bench at Carmen’s side. “It happened again.”

Carmen shut her locker's door as their teammates all geared up in the locker room.

“Fina? Did you bring another girl home to make Marta jealous?”

“No. Worse! It was Mari Nieves… again,” Fina huffed. “And I don't do it to make her jealous.”

“Then why do you do it?” Carmen pressed. Fina’s answer was hiding her face under her arms, a high pitched whimper escaping her like a deflating dog toy.

“Fina…” Claudia chastised. “I thought we all agreed that girl is very… How do I say this? Not smart?”

“She's actually very nice when you get to know her. She does magic in her free time, not well but still.” Fina sheepishly mumbled into the fabric of her shirt. “She's a good cuddler too.”

“So what?” Carmen pressed. “Did you get bored and decide to piss off your roommate or…?”

“That's not what happened.” Fina sighed, sitting upright, shoulders sagging over like a sack of potatoes. “I saw Marta leave the bar with a really handsome guy. Like model handsome. They were linked arm and arm. Like they were more than friends, you know? And the way her face lit up when he whispered in her ear.”

Fina thought of that smile, broad, so strong that her top lip curled, all scrunched up. Perhaps Fina's favorite smile.

“Fina?” Claudia checked in on the daydreamer.

Fina shook the thoughts loose from her skull, “So I had a couple drinks. Next thing I know it's almost midnight and Mari Nieves is working out her repressed feminine rage inside of me. A little too roughly, if I'm honest. Like way too rough.”

“Oof.” Carmen’s face tightened, imagining.

Claudia crossed herself in solidarity before she continued. “Fina, she’s not very bright. She might not understand and think there's something more than “cuddles” between you.”

Carmen nodded in agreement before adding, “You haven't been on a real date since Esther. Now you're friends with benefits with, God bless her soul, Mari Nieves? Fina! She failed her driver's exam four times.”

“Five times.” Fina corrected. “She failed again last week. If I'm honest, I think that was the source of the aggression in bed.”

Carmen and Claudia’s mouths parted in protest.

Fina cut them short, “And before you two start, I want you to know that she's going to be in the stands tonight. She bought a team jersey with my number on it and everything so play nice.”

“Oh my god!” Carmen’s disbelief left her mouth on hinges. “Matching jerseys? Seriously, what's gotten into you, Fina?”

Fina wanted to protest. To deny she was going crazy and they were the ones blowing things out of proportion. Tell them how she had broken things off twice since last night but it had gone completely over Mari Nieves empty little head. Tell them that really, anyone could misinterpret, “I don't want a solely sexual relationship anymore” to mean “come be my personal cheerleader.”

Or, better yet, she wanted to tell them to mind their own damned business.

But when she was honest with herself and confronted the facts, she could name the exact moment she'd become possessed by this blue-eyed demon.

It happened the first time she’d met up with Marta in person. She'd refused to believe the elegant woman approaching her door was the woman she had been texting with for the better part of two days about the intricacies of owning houseplants.

A chain of plant memes that would have sent most girls running had elicited a return of “medicinal” plant puns.

But something had happened to Fina when Marta had extended her hand and said simply, “Doctor Marta de la Reina.”

Fina had hesitated, realizing at some point her own hand had started to tremble, sweaty, at her side. She resisted the urge to wipe her hand off on her soil stained jeans before offering it. “Fina Valero.”

There, hands clasped in one another's, maybe it had been the lingering eye contact or how Marta’s delicate, shy smile made Fina’s breath catch in her lungs.

Whatever it was, from that moment forward, Fina had lost her damned mind and she hadn't regained her senses since.

Not when she stepped onto the round banktrack and the first whistle of the first jam sounded.

Not when she looked over to see Mari Nieves with two extra-large fountain drinks mounted on her head, bouncing up and down, waving a massive sign overhead that read “LEZ RIOT!”

Not when she heard Carmen’s demanding voice calling out to her, “Go! Fina! For God’s sake, Fina, go!”

Not even when Bitchin Betty whirled unexpectedly on Fina, slamming her shoulder into Fina’s sternum with such force Fina lost her bearing and went tumbling. An announcer's excited voice filtered to Fina's ears even over the commotion of squealing wheels, Carmen barking, and flailing limbs:

“Lez Riot took a nasty blow from Bitchin Betty! Lez Riot is going down and she's taking half the defensive line with her! Lez Riot is being absolutely trampled! Maybe she can get some help from- Oh! Ooooooh! Lez Riot just took a skate directly to the groin! Lady or not, that's the kind of crotch shot that gets passed through the family lineage.”

On Fina’s way down she thought about the meticulous woman surrounded by books at the dinner table. The occasional smile that touched defensive yet kind eyes. Pretty shimmering blues even when planted within a mask of venom. The hurt in them when she saw Fina with another woman. Fina’s glimmer of satisfaction -if she could call it that - had been utterly smothered by her guilt.

She thought of the distance between them and how it brimmed with impotent yearning.