My mind finally starts piecing together an excuse about promising to take my mum to her doctor’s appointment, but just as I’m about to politely interrupt Ms Jacobs with my lie, she flings open the double doors to the main hall, filled with what looks like every student and faculty member in the school. The near-silence of the hall is disturbed by our entrance, so it’s not a surprise that most of them turn towards us. I feel like I’m back on the football pitch all of a sudden, being ogled by thousands of people in the stadium. A small electric thrill goes through me.
‘Ms Jacobs, there you are,’ a teacher on stage that I don’t recognise says. She waves Ms Jacobs up, giving me a confused once-over.
‘They’re just about to finish up our last assembly of the year, so this is perfect,’ Ms Jacobs says to me softly.
‘Oh, I should—’
But Ms Jacobs is not listening to me. She takes hold ofmy hand and drags me up on stage with her – only letting go of me as she approaches the mic.
‘I’m sure Ms McMahon has already covered everything,’ Ms Jacobs says into the mic while I longingly look at the now-closed double doors of the hall. ‘So, I really don’t have much to say, except that I found a really exciting guest outside the school. I know that all of you have heard of her, and she’s going to say a few words for us this morning. Aren’t we lucky? Let’s give a round of applause for our very own Maya Alam.’ Ms Jacobs starts off the round of applause as she steps away from the mic and turns her smile to me.
I can only stand there for a moment, wondering if I’ve stepped into some kind of a nightmare. But I’m sure even my subconscious couldn’t have dreamt up this situation – standing in front of a crowd of former teachers and current students, dressed in a shabby old tracksuit that’s a little too snug, uncomfortably aware of the fact that every part of my body is damp with sweat.
‘Maya.’ Ms Jacobs gives me an encouraging nod, and so the only thing I can do is take a step forward towards the mic. My mouth is dry and my mind is blank, but I know the sooner I say something, the sooner I can get the hell out of here.
‘Um, hi,’ I say, inwardly cringing at the way my voice rings out across the hall a little too loudly. ‘I wasn’t really expecting to be here today, but … it’s so wonderful to be back at my old school.’ I take a breath, trying not to look at anyone, trying to imagine the crowd as a mass of unknown people. ‘I was so lucky to get my start here. If I hadn’t played on the Westbrook football team, I probably would have never even dreamt of pursuing football. I really owe a lot to this school; everyone here who encouraged me to go for my dreams. And if you’re anything like me, you shouldmake use of your time here, and go for your dreams too.’
I smile, before taking a step back from the mic, and everyone applauds once more. My entire body feels hot with embarrassment.
As Ms Jacobs dismisses the assembly and I finally step off the stage, one of my old teachers appears from out of the crowd.
‘Maya!’ Mrs Fitzgerald says. ‘It’s so good to see you again, and it’s been so amazing to see all of your success. I always knew you had it in you.’
Her words make a lump form in my throat. Mrs Fitzgerald was my maths teacher for almost all of secondary school, and even though maths wasn’t my best subject, she never gave up on me. I always remembered her fondly.
‘Thanks, Mrs Fitzgerald,’ I manage to get out. ‘It’s good to see you too.’ She’s not the only one who seems excited to speak to me either; there are students who look too young to even be in secondary school looking at me with everything from shy admiration to fangirlish glee.
‘Did your team really win the national women’s soccer league last year?’ one of the young students asks me, looking up at me with curiosity in her eyes.
I still remember that match, that victory that seemed completely unachievable. We’d been sweating under the California heat, and the Dignity Sports Park was filled to the brim. I could hardly believe at the time that we had made it all the way to the finals. That, in itself, had felt like a dream. Our opponents, North Carolina Courage, had already won the league twice before. Meanwhile, this was the Vikings’ first time making it to the finals. We were neck and neck for most of the game, but somehow, against all odds, we had pulled it off. We’d won. The thrill of it was likenothing I’d ever felt before. It was shock and excitement and an overwhelming sense of happiness, all mixed in together.
‘Yeah, we did,’ I say, my chest swelling with pride. There’s a certain thrill when it comes to winning any match, but that one was special.
‘So, why did you quit?’ the student asks.
I deflate immediately, even as Mrs Fitzgerald turns to give her a small glare.
‘Daisy, that’s really none of your business. Now, off you go,’ she says, shooing her away.
Daisy gives me one last look before turning around and joining a group of girls in another corner of the hall. More students are passing me curious glances, but my face burns with the shame of Daisy’s question – especially now I know that they probably all have that question. And many more. Questions that I can’t give answers to.
‘I’m sorry about that,’ Mrs Fitzgerald says. ‘Just ignore her, and ignore … all the papers and everything. I can’t even imagine how tough handling all of that must be, but you should know that we are incredibly proud of you.’
She gives me an encouraging smile. It doesn’t change anything, but it makes me feel at least a little bit better.
‘Come on, Maya, I’ll show you the brand-new gym that we just opened this year!’ Ms Jacobs says, tearing me away from the crowd and Mrs Fitzgerald.
I happily follow her out of the double doors of the main hall, not wanting to deal with the inquisitive students anymore.
‘New gym?’ I ask. I guess something here has changed in the last few years.
‘Well, ever since you got snatched up and made it big, more and more of our students have been getting involvedin sports. We got funding for this new gym and, of course, we mentioned you and your success in our application for that,’ Ms Jacobs says proudly.
That brings a smile to my lips. No matter what happened, it seems I made some kind of an impact, even if it’s in the form of a new gym and a few more young girls giving sports a go.
‘Here we are,’ Ms Jacobs says, thrusting the doors to the gym open and stepping inside. I follow her in, and I’m impressed. This new gym is definitely a huge improvement. It’s a much bigger space than the old one. It’s brand new and sparkling, and there’s new equipment pushed to the sides – gymnastic mats, badminton rackets and shuttlecocks, nets. When I walk around, the floor squeaks loudly and it echoes across the massive space.
‘Wow. This is nice,’ I say. I walk around the gym slowly, taking the place in, before stopping at the trophy cabinet by the door that I’d missed when we first came in. It houses our old football trophy, still gleaming as bright and shiny as the day that we won it.
