CHANGE- uswnt

glue myself shut

I wasn't expecting today to be any different.

When I woke up, the weight of yesterday's failures still sat heavy on my chest. I went through the motions—got dressed, grabbed breakfast, rode the bus to training—but the doubt was still there, clinging to me like a second skin.

I stretched in silence, half-listening as the coaches went over the plan for the session. Possession drills, passing patterns, small-sided games. Things I'd done a thousand times before, but lately, they felt impossible.

Mal nudged me. "You good?"

I gave a small nod. "Yeah."

She didn't look convinced but didn't push it.

I didn't want her to push it. I didn't want the pitying glances or the empty reassurances. I just wanted to get through the day without embarrassing myself.

Warm-ups were fine. Nothing special. My touches were decent, my passes accurate enough. I kept my head down, doing what I had to do, waiting for the moment when it would all start falling apart like it always did.

Then we moved into the first drill. Passing patterns. The same one I'd bombed yesterday.

I exhaled sharply, stepping into my position. The ball came to me, and I took my first touch—clean, controlled. My pass followed, crisp and accurate.

Okay. That was fine.

The ball cycled through again. Another pass. Another clean touch.

And then it just... kept going. One good rep turned into two. Two into five. My body moved on instinct, the doubt starting to quiet in the back of my mind.

A sharp whistle cut through the air, and for a split second, I panicked, thinking it was meant for me. But then I heard the words.

"Much better, Maddy."

I barely processed it. I was too locked in, too caught up in the rhythm of the drill, the ball moving, my feet reacting.

And then we shifted to rondos.

Yesterday, I'd been stuck in the middle forever, chasing shadows, feeling like a fool. But today was different. I wasn't perfect, but I wasn't helpless. My feet were quicker. My passes were smarter. I actually won the ball back a few times.

I still got nutmegged once (courtesy of Trinity, because of course), but this time, instead of just standing there, frozen in frustration, I turned and immediately pressed to win the ball back.

The second I did, I heard Lindsey laugh. "Atta girl, Maddy!"

It was nothing, just a small moment, but it sent a spark of something through my chest.

By the time we got to the scrimmage, I was too caught up in the rhythm of training to let the nerves creep in.

And then something clicked.

I played like I had nothing to lose.

For the first time since getting here, I stopped worrying about messing up and just played. I checked my shoulder before receiving passes, I found space, I took risks. I wasn't perfect, but I didn't freeze up or second-guess every touch.

I even scored.

It wasn't anything crazy—just a well-timed run, a clean finish past the keeper—but when the ball hit the back of the net, it felt like something cracked open in my chest.

I barely had time to process it before Emily Sonnett grabbed my shoulders and shook me playfully. "MADDY SCORED!"

"Shut up." I murmur, but I couldn't hide the grin spreading on my face.

Lindsey high-fived me as we jogged back to reset. "Keep going, rookie."

Keep going.

The scrimmage ended, and as I walked off the field, Mal jogged up beside me.

"Maddy."

I turned to her, still catching my breath. "Yeah?"

She grinned. "Told you everyone loves you."

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

Mal gestured over her shoulder. I glanced back and saw Lindsey giving me an approving nod, Rose sending a thumbs-up, even some of the veteran players throwing quick words of encouragement my way.

They'd noticed.

I swallowed hard, something warm settling in my chest.

Maybe I did belong here after all.