JamyNineLives

Emily Sonnett was going to kill these kids one day. Okay, that might be a little bit dramatic, but she did silently vow to never volunteer to pick these two up for practice ever again. She had initially thought it would be fun but that was before the lost boot incident.

“Trinity, you literally have another pair at the facility. Get in the car.” Emily groaned, her foot tapping in irritation.

There was no way in hell they weren’t going to be late. While the apartments were close to Audi, they weren’t close to the girls training facilities and the drive wasn’t an easy one.

“But those ones don’t match Ash’s!” Trinity whined, crouching down to check under her couch.

“You can go one day without matching with your little girlfriend.” Barely managing to dodge the couch cushion that the rookie threw at her, Emily fought and failed at holding in her laughter.

“She’s not my little girlfriend!” The younger player was standing now, arms crossed and an incredibly embarrassed look on her face.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Emily smirked, leaning back against the apartment wall. Feigning disinterest in the conversation, she opened her phone and was about to open the national team group chat that was suddenly going insane for some reason.

“Bold words from someone who literally got matching tattoos with her little girlfriend!” Trinity snapped back, causing Emily to flush with embarrassment. Internally she was cursing the woman that is Kelley O’Hara for ever telling these kids about her own rookie years in Portland and the chaos that it resulted in.

“Lindsey was never my little girlfriend, Trin!” Throwing the couch cushion back at Trinity, who annoyingly dodged it with ease, Emily fixed the girl with a glare hard enough that almost anyone would back down. Unlucky for her, Trinity Rodman wasn’t almost anyone.

“Could’ve fooled me.” She teased, turning Emily’s own words back on her.

“That’s it!” Emily fussed, stalking across the room and grabbing the girl in a headlock. It wasn’t unusual behavior for the two of them to wrestle like this and Trinity was immediately game, trying to lean over and get the smaller blonde's feet off the ground.

“Guys, I’ve got them! Trin, you left them under my bed again. Seriously, you’ve got to stop doing that. At Least put them with mine like last time so I know to grab them again!” Ashley Sanchez was standing in the open doorway, holding up Trinity’s neon boots and sporting a giant smile.

Both Emily and Trinity paused their fighting to look at the girl. Emily, who was now hanging onto Trinity’s back, looked down at her teammate with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Trinity at least had the decency to look embarrassed by Sanchez’s discovery of her cleats, a heat burning in her cheeks. Ashley, now past her need to announce her find, finally took in the position that her teammates were in.

“Am I… interrupting something?”

—

The shenanigans at the apartment complex proved to absolutely set the girls behind schedule as they managed to just barely get to the training grounds in time to meet their teammates who were standing around talking, ready to start practice.

“Listen, it’s all Sonnett’s fault! She drives like someone’s grandma!” Trinity exclaimed the second the trio made their way to the field.

“My fault?! If you hadn’t lost your boots in As- OOF!” Emily attempted to counter Trinity's accusation but she was quickly cut off by the taller player tackling her from behind.

“I got them here alive!” Ashley added, skipping over to set down her stuff and tie her boots on.

Still play fighting with Trinity, it took Emily a moment to recognize that all of her national team teammates were huddled together and staring at her.

“Hello? Why are you all looking at me like I’ve suddenly sprouted a second head? I assure you, there’s just the one of me and you’re all welcome for that!” Emily joked, smiling playfully at her teammates like usual. When her jest didn’t even get a laugh from Kelley, she knew something had to be up. She took a moment, looking from face to face as they all stared at her in some mix of what looked like sympathy and also shock?

“What? Seriously, Trinity couldn’t find her stupid boots…” She muttered, shifting uncomfortably under so many stares.

“You seriously don’t know?” It was Ashley Hatch who spoke first but didn’t do anything to clear Emily’s confusion.

“Don’t know what?” She asked, brows furrowing together. Emily had no idea what was going on with her teammates but if someone didn’t explain soon she was convinced she’d have a permanent worry wrinkle formed on her face.

“Em, when’s the last time you checked your phone?” Kelley asked softly, stepping forward to place a hand on the blonde's shoulder comfortingly.

“Uh, I don’t know? Probably this morning when I got my coffee. Why?” It seemed like a stupid question for Kelley to ask. The older defender knew that ever since Sweden, she’d been limiting her screen time.

“The Colombia camp roster dropped.” Hatch supplied, as if this cleared anything up.

“Cool? Vlatko called me last week, I know I’m on it. So what’s the big deal?” Emily still wasn’t understanding what was going on. When everyone had gotten the call last week, the seven Spirits who had been called up had celebrated together. Therefore, she knew everyone already knew she’d been called up and she knew they had to.

“Oh my God.” Trinity whispered behind Emily, the latter turning to look in confusion at her teammate who was staring at her phone.

“What?” Emily whined, resisting poking her head in to see Trinity’s phone screen.

“It’s Y/LN.”

And Emily could almost feel all the blood drain from her face.

She turned to look at her captain, jaw set and eyes narrowed.

“It’s what?” Emily gritted out, trying to see if she’d just heard correctly.

“Mal isn’t coming to camp. Vlatko called Y/N Y/LN and she answered.” Andi answered sympathetically.

While Trinity and Ashley looked at each other in excitement, every remaining ounce of color drained from Emily’s face. The younger players didn’t know anything about Y/N Y/LN. Not anything personal, anyways. They only knew her for the legendary footballer she’d become. But Andi Sullivan knew her very well. Worse than that? Andi knew of Y/N’s history with Emily Sonnett.

“Emily?” Kelley whispered, squeezing her shoulder gently to shake her out of the trance she was in. Of course, Kelley knew about Y/N too so it was no surprise she was currently treating Emily like the most fragile thing to ever exist.

“Okay.” Emily finally said, earning several more shocked looks.

“Okay?” Andi questioned, and Emily just nodded her head.

“Okay. It’s time to start training, move your asses!” As if she’d hit some hard reboot button, Emily was immediately back to her normal self. A smile on her face and a pep in her step as she raced onto the pitch.

Kelley and Andi exchanged concerned looks as the blonde raced past them. It was an act that her close friends knew well, the forced smile and change of subject. If they gathered one thing from that reaction? It was that Emily Sonnett was absolutely not okay.

—

Y/N Y/LN was on track to be the top pick in the 2016 College Draft. Fresh out of Stanford with a record that surpassed even Christen Press’s, the young forward was shaping up to be the pride of the NWSL. But then Barcelona called and you didn’t even hesitate to leave it all behind.

All of it. Everything.

Everyone.

You didn’t give anyone a reason. Nothing substantial, atleast. Just “when the best football club in the world comes knocking, you don’t say no!” and then you left.

US soccer fans were ecstatic. It was the first time they had ever seen something like that, a young US player being called to Barca of all places. Everyone was excited for you to go overseas, hone your skills, and earn a spot on the senior USWNT where you could showcase what you’d learned in front of the entire nation!

But you never came back. Not for Friendlies. Not for the Olympics. Not even for the World Cup.

And it wasn’t for lack of trying on US Soccer’s part. Jill Ellis in particular was belligerent. Before every camp your phone would ring. And every camp, it went to voicemail.

You gave some credit to Vlatko though. The first time you ever sent him to voicemail? He never called back.