The Quiet One

hydration, sweat and 1st

Australia hit differently — the sunlight sharper, the heat heavier, and everything smelling faintly of sunscreen, grass, and nerves. Even after settling in for a little while, the squad still wasn't used to the way the sun seemed to beat down with purpose. I pushed Elijah's pram along the pathway to training, already sweating even though it was only ten in the morning.

"Why is the sun like this?" I muttered, shading my eyes.

"Because it hates us," Lucy said, walking beside me, her hair already sticking to her forehead.

Georgia was dramatically fanning herself with a spare bib she'd stolen from Elijah's bag. "If I pass out, someone tell my mum I love her and that it was heatstroke."

"If you faint by my kid," I said, "he's not responsible for robbing your snack pouch. That's on you."

Georgia nodded solemnly. "Fair."

Elijah squealed happily from the pram, slapping his hand against the tiny fan clipped to the side — the one TikTok swore prevented heat-induced toddler meltdowns. So far, it worked better on him than it did on the rest of the team.

Training started, and the heat made every session feel like trying to sprint underwater. Sarina kept the drills sharp but short, forcing us to hydrate constantly. Between passing patterns and pressing exercises, she waved at me to jog over.

"You're settling into the role well," she said, voice steady even while the sun blistered overhead.

"I feel like I'm sweating leadership at this point," I replied.

She smiled. "You're communicating well. The team follows your lead. And somehow you're balancing all of this." She nodded toward Elijah in his pram, now chewing aggressively on a football teether.

"He's the real captain," I joked.

"Don't be afraid to step in more," she said. "You belong in this role. Own it."

When I returned to the group, Millie nudged me. "Ooooh, captain's meeting?"

"Apparently I'm supposed to talk more."

"Please don't," Rachel called from behind her.

"Rude."

Training went on, water breaks became sacred, and the heat made everyone a little delirious. But even with the exhaustion, the squad was buzzing — three wins in the group stage, a couple of bumps, but we'd smashed our way through. Quarter-finals were coming, and the pressure was creeping in.

After training, the media team swooped in, as they always did. I got pulled for the captain's segment, Elijah plopped on my lap because apparently he had better on-camera charisma than I did.

"Jae, massive congratulations on the group-stage run," one reporter said. "How's the team feeling going into the quarter-finals?"

"Pretty good," I answered, adjusting Elijah as he tried to grab the mic. "A few bumps, but we pushed through. Now it's about staying sharp and hydrated. Mostly hydrated."

"Does being a mum change this experience?"

I looked down at Elijah, who was gnawing on his teether like the world depended on it. "Absolutely. I'm playing for more than just myself now. And he keeps me grounded. Mostly by throwing biscuits at me."

Behind the cameras, Lucy cupped her hands around her mouth. "Tell them the co-captain won't travel unless he has warm milk on tap!"

"I swear I will ban you from babysitting."

Later that afternoon, Sarina brought me into the tactical room for a more serious meeting. The board was already set up with magnets and notes.

"We know our quarter-final opponents now," she said. "I want your input on the emotional side of things. That's part of why you're captain."

"Okay, but if Lucy tries a backheel nutmeg near our box again—"

"She will," Sarina said flatly.

"Then I'll pretend my contacts fell out."

She sighed, but she smiled too. "You and Leah have similar leadership qualities. Calm, steady, with intensity beneath. She'd be proud."

The mention of Leah made something ache under my ribs.

Later that night in the players' lounge, the unofficial birthday committee held an emergency meeting: me, Lucy, Georgia, Millie, and a very unwilling Keira.

"Right," Georgia announced. "Eli's first birthday. We must do something iconic."

"At the zoo," Millie said confidently. "Already booked it."

I blinked. "You booked a zoo without telling me?"

"You would've forgotten," Keira said, not even looking up from her phone.

"I am a competent adult—"

"You put your boots in the fridge yesterday," Lucy reminded.

"That was one time."

Georgia scooped Elijah off the floor as he crawled toward her. "Do you want a kangaroo cake? Yes you do! You want a kangaroo cake, don't you!"

He babbled with the enthusiasm of someone who had no idea what a kangaroo was.

"You're all insane," I laughed, but my chest felt warm. He deserved this — a real birthday, surrounded by people who adored him. After how his life began, after everything he lost before he even arrived... this was healing.

Back in the hotel room, I set Elijah on the bed with his blanket and propped up my phone to FaceTime Leah. Her face popped up instantly, hair tied back, smile bright.

"Hi, stranger," she said, waving at Elijah.

"Mama!" Elijah squealed, smacking the screen like she might fall out of it.

"Hi, baby! Oh, look at his little face!" Leah laughed. "Jae, guess what?"

"What?"

"My physio cleared me," she said, practically glowing. "I'm allowed to fly. I'm coming to Australia."

I froze. "You're— what? Really? Are you sure? Your knee—"

"I'm doing everything the right way. And I'm not missing this. Not your first tournament as captain. Not Elijah's first birthday. I'll be there. With you. With him."

I swallowed hard. "Leah, that's... incredible."

The connection lagged for a second and Elijah's face crumpled in betrayal.

"No, no, relax!" I said quickly, bouncing him. "She's coming back. Look!"

Leah reappeared, waving again. "He misses me already."

"And me?" she asked softly.

I let out a slow breath. "Everything feels a little empty without you here."

Her smile softened. "I'll fix that soon."

The next day, the quarter-final announcement made everything heavier. Sarina gathered us in a semicircle at the edge of the pitch.

"You've overcome challenges," she said. "You've grown. Trust in yourselves. Trust in each other. And trust in your captain."

Twenty pairs of eyes landed on me.

My stomach flipped — but not in a bad way.

"We've handled heat, jet lag, and Elijah's snack-related tantrums," I said. "We can handle anything."

The girls laughed, tension melting just enough.

Training wrapped, and I walked straight to Elijah's pram. He reached up, grabbing my finger and squeezing tight.

"Alright, co-captain," I whispered. "Quarter-finals next."

He babbled something that definitely sounded like encouragement.

And for the first time since we landed...
I felt ready.
Ready for the match.
Ready for this role.
Ready for my little family to be reunited again on the other side of the world.