A Language All Our Own

Just a few PKs

And off to the bench they went for the next two weeks. In the smoldering May heat they sat, contemplating when they would be able to get back in the game. The cold, ridged, metal seat of the bench didn't bother them at all, as they had each other. They talked, the laughed, they cried. They quickly became the closest friends for each other that they had ever had. 

After a particularly rough day of camp, Ashlyn, Ali, and Megan returned to Ashlyn's room to blow off steam. "Why can't Jill just let us play?!" Megan exclaimed, sounding more pissed off than Ali had ever heard her. Ali shook her head.

 "Maybe she has a plan Pines, we just gotta relax." Megan threw herself on the bed and groaned in frustration. 

"When my position got moved, I slapped a kid with a fish." Ashlyn says quietly from the bed opposite Megan. 

"What did you say Ash?" Ali asked as she removed her hearing aids. 

"I slapped a kid with a fish," Ashlyn signed in reply. "The coach changed our positions, and he called me a dyke. So he got fish slapped."

"Dude, you've gotta be kidding," Megan signed back, her mouth wide with a smile. "How old were you?"

"Twelve- maybe thirteen. He beat me out as a keeper, and I was pissed. It was this bratty little blonde kid named Nathan, and he always gave me shit for being on the boys team. Anyway, there was this disease going around the fish in Florida, so a bunch of them would wash up on the shore dead. They were huge- I knew I could do some damage with one. So after practice one day I found a dead fish on the beach and beat the shit out of him with it. Left him with a pretty nasty gash, it was great."

Megan and Ali were in complete hysterics upon hearing Ashlyn's story. 

"Maybe you should fish-slap Jill," Ali managed to sign to Megan in between laughs.

"Maybe I will," Megan signed back with a smirk.

___

With two days left of camp, Ali and Ashlyn were growing restless, and itched to get back on the pitch. Late in the night, before Kelley returned from her recovery swim, Ali sees the lights flicker on and off in her room.

"Coming," she says loudly, grabbing her hearing aids from the table. She opens the door, and is shocked to see Ashlyn in full gear.

"What are you doing, it's 5 minutes to curfew!" Ali whispered to Ashlyn, motioning for her to come in. 

"We're going on the pitch."

"We're WHAT?"

"Just a few PKs Al, I'm dying to just practice a little. Please?"

"I'm not putting my gear on."

"What ever, just put on a tee and lets go!"

Ali grabbed her Nike Frees and a grey tee, the same one Ashlyn was wearing. The duo leaves the room quietly, and go down the stairwell without a trace. 

Once outside, Ashlyn begins putting on her gloves, and they walk to the goal closer to the entrance. The field is completely dark except for the one light illuminating the entrance, trickling down to the goal they were approaching. "Why do I feel like I'm doing something illegal Ash?" Ali asks, two steps behind Ashlyn. 

"Just shut up and shoot," Ashlyn retorts, handing Ali the laundry bag of balls that she "stole" from the training room. 

"Seriously?" Ali asks, gesturing towards the laundry bag. 

"What, did you want me to take out the full carts? Just go!"

Ashlyn turned her back to walk toward the goal. She jumped in place, warming up her legs in order to defend the balls Ali was about to shoot.

Ali opened the tie on the bag, and pulled out a single ball to place on the turf. Suddenly, she regrets not wearing cleats- she can already feel herself slipping on the plastic-like material of the turf. She sighs, then steps back from the ball.

Ashlyn drops into a ready stance, slightly bouncing as Ali approaches the ball. With a solid contact, Ali sends the ball over the crossbar and onto the pavement directly behind the goal.

"Are you kidding me?!" Ashlyn quietly shouts to Ali. "It's past curfew!" she says as the ball loudly makes contact with the hard concrete.

"Sorry!" Ali says with her eyebrows up. "It's your fault for asking a defender to shoot at you."

Ali takes another ball, this time effortlessly shooting it past Ashlyn. 

Ashlyn looks amused. "Maybe you should play the lotto tonight, if you're that lucky." 

"That was all skill right there, don't be mistaken," Ali replies, a mischievous look on her face. 

And Ali might have chalked it up to luck if it weren't for the fact that she scores again. And again. And again.

"FUCK," Ashlyn screams, harshly clapping her gloved hands together simultaneously after she lets another ball effortlessly slide past her fingers.

"Hey, maybe this right back over here is just that good of a scorer, don't beat yourself up over it," Ali yells somewhat loudly across the pitch. Instead of laughing at Ali's comment though, Ashlyn roughly throws her gloves off and sits on top of a ball that had found its way into the goal. She buries her head in her hands.

Ali jogs over and crouches down next to Ashlyn. "Hey, hey, what's up?" Ali whispers, tucking a stray hair that had escaped from her bun behind Ashlyn's ear. She can see a single tear under Ashlyn's exposed eye. Ali plops down next to Ashlyn and wraps an arm around her.

In the darkness of the field, Ali prepares to protect Ashlyn from what ever it is that is about to hurt her.