Sworn Enemies - Rebel Hart Page 0,2

jerseys hanging off of it. I turned around, and there was a body in the chair that I kept opposite my desk. “Lila.”

Lila Skeddit was one of our team’s tackles. She was a hundred and eighty pounds of pure muscle. She stood at an impressive six-foot-two and had her head shaved on both sides and in the back, leaving just a single tuft of medium-length black hair flowing down in a mohawk tail hairstyle. She was the only one of the Widows that I had gone to high school with, and though we hadn’t played football together back then, she followed my lead when she entered college and demanded her team allow her to try out. One look at the way she nearly separated a guy’s torso from his legs, and they offered her a full-ride scholarship. She became one of the starting tackles for that team. She was a monster on the field, but it was as if she’d sacrificed basic social skills to become such an elite player. She was short, brash, and assertive. Lila believed that anything a man did could be done twice as well by a woman. She didn’t talk to men, she didn’t date men, and she didn’t like men. In short, Lila was a nega-feminist.

“How are you?” I greeted. I continued pulling things out of the closet, and though I hadn’t directed her to grab anything, specifically, Lila stood up and got the footballs and one of the barrels of pads.

“Will practice end on time today?” she asked, totally ignoring my conversation starter.

“Yes.” I took the hangers that the jerseys hung on and looped them onto my arm, grabbed the other barrel of pads, and led the way out of my office.

“It didn’t on Monday.” She stepped out of the way so I could lock my door but not so far away that I wouldn’t be forced to deal with her issue. “I have to be home by seven.”

“You will be home by seven, Lila. Some of us want to catch the Vipers’ game, too, so we’ll be done by six-thirty, for sure.”

We detoured past the receptionist’s desk so that I could leave the keys for the receptionist to lock the building. I could let myself back in to put stuff away after practice and didn’t want the building unlocked while no one was inside to keep an eye on the place.

I led the way back out to the field just as the girls were cleaning up. A few of the other Widows had gathered already and were waiting for the high-schoolers to clear out so we could get our own practice started.

There were eleven of us in total. It was just enough to play football legally, but most of us had to double-up on offense and defense, and we were permanently short a running back. I was the captain and the quarterback. It’d been a point of contention between me and Lila, who felt she had the stature to fit the position more, but it was the position I was practiced in and the one I’d spent years mastering. I very rarely pulled this-is-my-team rank, but I had to about my position to get Lila to let it go.

Jansen was one of our wide receivers, along with another woman, Beck, who you’d miss if you blinked. She was five-foot even and had well earned the name, Speed of Light Beck. Jansen was fast, but Beck could run laps around her like a cartoon character running to the finish line and back before their opponent had ever made it down the first leg.

Our center was Kris, and she was also the one I was closest with on the team. She had dark brown skin and black dreadlocks. She was a Montpelier native, as well, but had been homeschooled. She nearly broke the rec center doors down when I posted the ad for the team. She was a good center, both physically and mentally. She could rally us with just a few words, and even Lila tended to bend to her will. Kris was the only one who could elicit that response out of Lila.

Jazz and Lila were our tackles and our blockers. Lila was stacked, and Jazz was a crossfit champion with an insane center of gravity. When she steeled herself to take a hit, it was almost impossible to take her off her feet. Mala was interchangeable with them, although she was always our offensive guard. Jazz and Lila had been best