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“Thank you.” I take her hand in mine. “You aren’t allowed to laugh when I’m slower on the field than I used to be, okay?”
“Who am I to judge? The best part about being a coach is not having to participate in workouts.”
A smile tugs at my lips as I stare out at the field a hundred yards away. There’s a soft pull, a yank that draws me closer to the center circle and corner mark.
So much has changed since the last time I dressed for a game, but it feels like so much has stayed the same.
I nailed the interview with the D.C. Stars hockey team as their new in-game photographer. They might have a losingrecord and play four times as many home games as the Titans do, but I still get to do what I love: take photos of incredible athletes doing incredible physical feats.
The friend of a friend of one of the players said they were looking for people to join their recreational soccer league, a coed team with games once a week until winter.
The stakes were low—no pressure. No extra training. A fun, laidback environment with a group of people who just want ninety minutes of exercise and some fresh air.
I felt comfortable enough with my mobility to agree to be their eleventh player, and now I’m about to take the field for the first time in years.
I’m so fucking happy.
I just wish Dallas and June were here so I could share my excitement with them.
He took her to Denver for their preseason game. She’s older and travels like a pro, so she gets to go with her dad more often these days. If I can’t join them because of work, Lacey takes my spot, playing babysitter while Dallas is on the field.
I miss them when they’re gone, but they always come home with stories and a postcard for me. It’s a scribbled mess of words, a letter he writes on the plane or when he slips into his car.
They’re all in a box in our closet, a pile of love notes where he tells me how much he cares about me. How much I mean to him, and how lucky he is to be mine.
I wonder how many there will be in five, ten years. When he hangs up his cleats and comes home for good, done with the game and ready to move to the next stage of life.
I love him, too, and every day I see him, I love him a little more.
I still get that giddy feeling when I’m with him. When he pulls me close and kisses me like we might die tomorrow, a swarmof butterflies flutter in my stomach. It’s like my feet are off the ground and I’m swept away, caught up in him.
He pushes me to work harder and to never give up. It’s why I’m standing here, the familiar itch of the shin guards on my legs and the breeze in my hair. If it weren’t for his gentle encouragement, I never would’ve tried.
“I’m doing this,” I say.
The wind scoops it up and releases it out into the universe, and I stand taller.
Dallas was right.
Dreams dochange. It might not be the Olympics. It might not be the World Cup. There might not be twenty thousand spectators, but it’s exactly where I need to be.
“Ready?” Isabella asks, and I nod.
“Ready,” I say.
Elation practically bursts out of me as I jog onto the field. One of my teammates, Avery, looks up from her phone and waves.
She’s the most badass woman I’ve ever met. The head of the Thunderhawks’ social media, she’s taken the sports world by storm. The only time I’ve seen her put her phone down is the one-hour practice we have during the week. Otherwise, it’s practically glued to her body.
I haven’t told Reid I’ve met his archnemesis yet. I think he might kill me when he finds out.
“Hey, Mae,” she says when I approach her. “How’re you feeling?”
“Good.” I smile because it’s the truth. The air tastes sweet in my lungs. My legs feel light. Everything about the moment feels almost perfect. “I’m really good.”
“That makes me so happy. Where’s your cheer squad? I’m excited to meet Dallas.”
“Their flight canceled in Phoenix last night because of the bad weather. They’re on their way to D.C. now, but they won’t land in time to spectate.”
