Chapter 40

: Andi

I pull at my skirt , wishing it was longer and less fitted in the thighs. I’m more muscular than I have been in years, which means I feel like a stuffed sausage in this pencil skirt that I bought for job interviews when I got out of PT school.

I’m a little unsteady on my black pumps, not used to such a narrow, unstable shoe.

I don’t know what one is supposed to wear for a disciplinary hearing, but I imagine it’s like this. I feel like I’m playing dress-up.

No matter how many times I write out my statement of the events since the beginning of July with my first head refereeing game, I can see the truth in my words. I might as well put a heart-eyes emoji every time I write Brandon’s name and dot the “i” in Nix with an oversized heart. That’s how obvious it is.

Life was much easier when I was invisible. When I didn’t take up space and when no one saw me. I could pass neatly through, unnoticed.

This is messy.

I flip the page in my yellow legal pad. This is the page of the number calculations. This is why I have to be messy.

I want justice.

I know life isn’t fair. I know it all too well. If life were fair, Benj wouldn’t have SMA. I wouldn’t have had to grow up feeling that I couldn’t voice discontent about anything because it didn’t compare to what my brother was going through. I wouldn’t be so worried about my parents’ stress that I never let them see my needs.

This isn’t about that kind of fairness.

This is about gender equality.

I don’t know how long the USSLRA thought they could get away with it. I’m guessing for a while. Maybe it’s why they’ve been so slow to hire women, even when their professional counterpart, the British Football League, has been diversifying for years.

James York is waiting for me in the parking lot of the USSLRA headquarters. I come here at least three times a year for performance reviews, fitness tests, and professional development. This place has always filled me with excitement.

Until today.

What if I lose it all?

“How are you doing?” James asks.

“I feel like I’m going to puke.”

He nods. “Keep it brief. You do have to answer their questions, but don’t overtalk.”

I raise an eyebrow.

He laughs. “Right. I don’t even have to tell you this. You’re known for holding it all close to the vest anyway. I’m sure that’s one reason why they thought the salary gap wouldn’t be an issue. You’re not one to raise a fuss.”

His words feel like a slap in the face. Unintentional, sure, but they hurt nonetheless. He’s basically saying I’m being punished for not taking up more space; for not screaming and yelling and pitching a fit. Of course, we all know if I did those things, I’d be labeled as a hysterical female.

There’s no winning, is there?

If keeping silent lets them take advantage of me, then maybe it’s time for me to get loud.

Maybe Brandon has been on to something after all.

WWBND?

I don’t think anyone in the history of Forever has asked “What Would Brandon Nix Do?” but I’m also not sure anyone else knows him like I do. He’s so much more than he seems at first glance.

Sure, some of it is a little caveman for me, but he wasn’t the one accosting me during a game. He was the one caring for me. He was the one who risked everything to protect me.

Suddenly, I know what I need to do.

I flip to the third page of my notepad and signal James that I’m ready to go.

I walk through the lobby with my head held high, bolstered by confidence in my decision. If I go down, I’m going down swinging, just like Brandon did.

Figuratively, not literally, like he did. But still.

Waiting for me in the conference room is not only Nathan Forget and Samuel Fredricks, but also an attorney. Interesting.

I smile and wait for my moment.

“Thank you, Andi, for coming down today,” Nathan begins. “I’m sure you’ve been able to surmise that we’d like to speak to you about the conduct that occurred at the Miami Wave–Boston Buzzards game this past weekend.”

I nod. It’s the perfect introduction. “Yes, thank you. I was going to ask for a meeting had you not reached out first. According to”—I glance down at my notes—“ Commonwealth v. Vasquez and Commonwealth v. Mosby , quoting Commonwealth v. De La Cruz , the state of Massachusetts, where the game in question took place, defines a touching as ‘an incident when, judged by the normative standard of societal mores, it is violative of social and behavioral expectations in a manner which is fundamentally offensive to contemporary moral values and which the common sense of society would regard as immodest, immoral, and improper. It has been held that the intentional, unjustified touching of private areas such as the breasts, abdomen, buttocks, thighs, and pubic area of a female constitutes an indecent assault and battery.’ I assume this was the conduct you wanted to address?”

The silence in the room is deafening.

I wait, willing the sweat not to bead up at the edge of my forehead and trickle down, showing my hand.

Samuel Fredericks clears his throat. “Um, yes, well, we’ll have to look into it.”

“While you’re looking at the video of the assault I suffered while working in your employment during the execution of my job, would you also please take a closer look at the Equal Pay Act of 1963? It requires that men and women in the same workplace be given equal pay for equal work. According to my calculations, the wages I receive for officiating MUSSL and WUSSL games are approximately 18 percent less than that of a male counterpart who is working at the same level as me.”

I hold Samuel Frederick’s gaze until he looks away. The red tinge to the rim of his ears gives it all away.

“Was there anything else you wanted to discuss, or were those two points enough?” I sit back and demurely fold my hands on top of my legal pad.

The nervous look shared between the three men is enough to make my heart race. I think I’ve won.

“We’d like to discuss Brandon Nix with you,” the attorney begins. Here it comes. “And the possibility of the compromised impartiality it may have caused.”

“I’m sure you have reviewed and scored my performance, just like you do for all officials for every match. What deductions did I receive that day? Were there any specific to Brandon Nix?”

Nathan shakes his head.

“Anything that could be construed as bias toward the Boston Buzzards or against the Miami Wave?”

Another head shake.

“Nathan, were there any missed calls on my part that you could see? Should I not have called Brandon Nix offside? He looked offside from my vantage point.”

“He was offside,” Nathan mumbles, his head down.

“Then what would you like me to explain?”

“Um, can you explain the reaction of Brandon Nix? Why did he attack Seamus O’Marra in such a violent way?”

“Normally, I’d reply with something like, ‘can anyone explain what Brandon Nix does?’ However, Mr. Nix and I had spent some time working together on a charity event. While there’s never been any love lost between us, the event caused us to put our petty differences aside for the greater good. In our limited interactions, we have been cordial. I can only assume that Mr. Nix saw me being so egregiously violated that he felt the need to take matters into his own hands. I cannot condone that behavior, and I would expect a hefty penalty for him, just as I would expect the same, if not worse, for Mr. O’Marra. While there is precedence for violence in sports, there is not for sexual assault.” I stand up. “Please let me know how you plan to address the pay issue, including retroactive pay for what I can only assume is a clerical error, as well as the punishment for Seamus O’Marra.”

I stand up and walk out, leaving the room full of men behind.

If you want something done properly, ask a woman.