Little Sanchez // USWNT

Chapter 40

Ainsley's POV

I think my favorite part of soccer is being on a team. 

It always has been since I was a little kid. When I was younger, believe it or not, I was very talkative and social. I used to be a good friend and a good listener. 

It was only fairly recently that I became a cold-hearted backstabbing asshole who curses all the time and shuts people out. 

I still talk to some of my friends from high school, the good ones. A girl I played soccer with who was a sophomore when I was a senior tells me they haven't given out the number 8 or 10 since Ash and I graduated. She said the girls who knew me still talk about me and ask about me because of how much I went through in high school. 

But that's what I loved about being on a team. They always have your back when it feels like no one else does. 

That's what happened at the game today. 

We're playing Racing Louisville. I'm playing against one of my old college teammates who was one of two players who were locker room cancer, and I let both of them know it. So they both hate my guts. 

I swear Laura Nolan has evil in her eyes. I swear that girl is evil. I know it. She stared me down as I ran out of the tunnel, her dark brown eyes piercing through me. I almost got a chill, and I looked at Ash, knowing she felt the same way. 

Ash met my gaze as we jogged side by side, and she told me to just ignore her. 

I started on the bench, but went in the game at the hour mark. I was thrown into an important role - helping my sister lock down Savannah Demelo while also not losing sight of my player. 

Laura Nolan stepped on the field at the 70 minute mark, and that's when the game went to hell. 

The game was tied 2-2, both goals from our team by Ashley Hatch. We all knew this game shouldn't end in a tie, and we had 20 minutes to go.

As my literal enemy ran on the field to replace the girl I had to mark, she whispered "You can try to take me, Ainsley Sanchez. You can try." 

I ignored her, but when she grabbed the end of my ponytail and twisted the very ends of it, that's when I started to see red. I calmed down when the game resumed, but the fucking audacity of that girl was something else. 

I took her 1v1 and beat her, sending the ball forward at Trinity but getting tackled out so late the ball had gotten to Trinity's feet before I got hit. I fixed my shin guards and Sam Staab jogged over to help me up after the ref blew the whistle and gave Nolan a card for her late tackle. I gave no reaction. 

After a torturous 20 minutes of jersey tugging, hair pulling and ankle kicking, we were in stoppage time. My head and neck had shooting pains, my ankles ached, and I hid a few bloody scratches, wiping my arms on the inside of my white jersey by that point. We had a corner kick, and obviously my height makes me not much of a target player, but this girl stayed all over me. 

She grabbed my arm with one hand and had her other arm around my waist, trying to  keep me from going anywhere, so I tried to move so maybe I'd draw attention to us for the ref. 

I completely fell over when I moved, and I was very frustrated. I threw my hands in the air and the ref came to talk to her again. Hatchy helped me up and wiped some grass off of me, whispering to me to stay calm. She kept one hand on my shoulder the whole time. 

"I'm miserable, Hatchy. Look at this." I lifted my sleeve to reveal a big, bloody scratch on my arm. She quickly pulled my sleeve back down because the ref looked our way. She got blood on her hand but she wiped it on her shorts, not wanting the ref to see anything.