To some; victory is a mere exploit for effort, a constructed norm for someone to feel superior to others. To Lynn Loud, it was her lifeline—the vitality keeping her head afloat and her heart beating. The jolt of exhilaration that came with a hard earned win was incomparable.
The wind would blow through her hair, her cheeks rosy amidst the late autumn air, and her breath icy. Despite the burning in her lungs, she sprinted down the soccer field, never feeling more alive than in this moment.
Still, the chilling temperature didn't bother her, the sweet sense of accomplishment was driving her, knowing it would come soon. She stuck to her stoic expression, ignoring the scowls from the girls on the other team.
The game was playing out perfectly, just how Lynn planned. The other team may have started out strong, but they were quickly losing energy, meaning Lynn's vigor could earn Royal Woods another victory.
The opposing team was bitter, that was a fact. A tall, scrawny player, #3, was the most heinous of them all. She was a fiery red head with an apparent temper, knocking shoulders with Lynn whenever they passed each other.
"Watch where you're going, carrots" Lynn's voice sung harshly, turning to face the girl.
"You first, pipsqueak" the player spat. Lynn had better things to worry about, so she rolled her eyes and trailed off onto the opposite side of the field, getting into position.
The red head, however, progressed. She blocked Lynn every chance she got, a couple times, flailing her arms infront to move her away from the ball. At one point, Lynn huffed and grabbed the girl by the shoulders, pushing her away.
The ginger loser tried calling foul, pointing at Lynn in the process. Thankfully, Lynn got off with a warning, muttering as she walked by, "go throw your tantrum on the bench where you belong."
"This is how the game works, burnout" her voice laced with venom and her eyes shooting daggers at the brunette.
"You'd know that if you actually played by the rules.." she paused, reading the name on the girl's jersey, Rockhill, "roadkill" she muttered.
The score was close; their school being tied with their opponent, 5:5. Stakes were higher and the few families piled on the bleachers were at the edge of their seats. Lynn had looked up a couple times to see her father alongside her good friend, Marley, the two shouting her name in encouragement.
