Little Sanchez // USWNT

Chapter 59

Ainsley's POV

The next few months continued the upwards trajectory of my career. 

My first game back with the Spirit was rough. I was fatigued and exhausted but I started the game anyway. Trinity and Andi weren't playing as they'd played a bunch in the World Cup, and I was offered more time off, but I didn't take it. 

After two more games, those being better, I was asked to be in the documentary for the USWNT. I was hesitant, as Ash had only been asked to do a minor interview. 

She turned it down. 

She wouldn't give them anything but she never told anyone why, not even me. I had taken the opportunity. I gave an interview, and Trinity and I got followed around during an off day. We were told they had no idea what would come of any of it, and I just didn't care what they did. 

 I ended the season with nine goals and seven assists. I won rookie of the year. We finished fifth in the league but lost in the first round of the playoffs. 

I played like shit. 

Throughout the game, all I could see were images of losing the World Cup and I couldn't shake them. They haunted me. 

We also didn't have Trinity, because she got a red card in our final regular season game. Without the final (and best) part of Ash and I's trio, we were basically nothing. 

After the championship, Ash and I went to visit what was left of our family in California before we had to go back to back to USWNT camp. We'd both went in October and were assuming the same for December. 

But we got different calls. 

I got called up and she didn't, which absolutely destroyed her. I almost turned down my call, but her and Trinity talked me into going. 

"If you want to stop being called 'Ashley's sister,' you have to do things without her. You'll never separate yourself from her if you cling to her side. You're your own person. You're a professional soccer player, not just the sister of one." 

The words came from Trinity's mouth. I knew she was right, and I knew that was the reality of it from here on out. 

I'm finally ready to accept that. 

I took any advice she gave me, because she went through something very similar at the beginning of her career - inability to separate herself from her father. By this point, she's done it, but it took some time. 

Ash and I will never not be connected for a lot of reasons. But we do have to be our own athletes, and that's okay. 

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On draft day, the three of us were all in California at Trinity's. We were all ready for the draft. We got a few snacks, ordered two pizzas, scouted the potential picks we could make. 

Two and a half hours before the draft, we got news that we traded Sam Staab to Chicago for the third pick of the draft. We texted her right after we heard, and she called right away. I was fucking pissed off, and I made everyone on the team know it, hoping word got to the GM. Sam was our rock, our stability, our iron woman, our most reliable player. 

"What the fuck are they gonna do next, send me to fucking Orlando?" I grumbled as I sat down. 

Loosely an hour and a half after that, real shit hit the fan. 

It was a little less than an hour before the draft was set to start. Someone's phone starts ringing. 

I pick up the phone slowly, not liking the contact name that had appeared across the screen. I swiped the answer button and put the phone to my ear, Trinity watching my every move.