DROP FORTY-THREE
Five minutes before the match, Patty was sweating hard.
They had bet everything on this outcome. So much could go sideways. She stood there, holding her greaves in her hand by the straps. She banged her forehead on the locker, it made a hollow thud every time.
“That’s not how you put them on,” Hector said, showing up. He winked at her.
“What? Oh, right,” she forced a laugh. Even she didn’t believe it.
“Let me do this for you.” Hector knelt down.
“No, I-”
“Shhh. I’m the expert on this, remember? I dress you up, you kick a*s on the field. Deal?”
She rolled her eyes.
Hector dressed her with her greaves, his movements precise, calculated. He tied everything as much as needed, not too tight.
Then he stood up and added the breast padding over her exoskeleton. He reache
