Matilda's Imagines

Second Chance pt 2

Y/n was buzzing—and not the good kind.

Her knee was bouncing at a million miles an hour in the media room. One of the staff had told her this press bit would be chill. Just a couple of questions. Smile. Say how much she loved football and was grateful for her "second chance."

But now there were cameras. Lights.
And reporters asking questions she wasn't ready for.

"So, Y/n... a lot of people are surprised to see you on this squad, given your history with juvenile detention. Do you feel like you deserve this spot?"

That one hit like a punch to the chest.

Deserve?

Her heart rate spiked. She felt hot. Trapped. Her ADHD brain was screaming, Get out. Get out. Get out.

"Next question," Caitlin said smoothly, seated beside her. Her smile never dropped, but Y/n could see the fire in her eyes. A warning.

Another reporter chimed in. "How does it feel to be a 'project' of the league? You're a bit of a PR risk, aren't you?"

Y/n stood up so fast her chair scraped across the floor.

"Nope. I'm done," she said, voice sharp, eyes glassy. "This was a bad idea."

And then she walked out.

⸻

She didn't get far.

She barely made it to the hallway before slamming her back into the wall and sliding down it, hands in her hair, trying not to scream.

Seconds later, Mini was there.

Always the first. Always steady.

She crouched beside her, not touching. Just waiting.

Y/n didn't look at her. "I knew this was too good to be true. They still see me as that angry little juvie brat."

"Doesn't matter how they see you," Mini said calmly. "It's how you see you."

"That's worse."

"Then let me remind you."

Y/n shook her head. "I thought I was doing better. I thought maybe I could have this—you all. But today? I felt like that same screw-up. And now I've just embarrassed myself in front of the entire team."

"You didn't embarrass yourself," came a voice behind her.

Kyra.

She sat on the other side of Y/n, crossed her legs, and plopped a protein bar in her lap.

"You panicked. I've done it. Caitlin's done it. Hell, Macca had a meltdown in the middle of a Nike shoot because the lights were too bright."

"True story," Macca added as she arrived, flopping onto the floor with zero grace.

Alana and Caitlin weren't far behind.

Caitlin kneeled, cupping Y/n's face with gentle fingers. "You are allowed to freak out, Y/n. This is big. And overwhelming. And no one expects you to be perfect."

"I yelled at a journalist."

Kyra smirked. "Honestly? You've shown remarkable restraint compared to your usual chaos."

Y/n cracked the smallest of smiles. "You're such a menace."

"Yeah, well," Kyra shrugged, "takes one to raise one."

Mini finally reached for her hand, giving it a warm squeeze. "We don't love you because you're fixed. We love you because you're trying."

Y/n blinked fast, biting her lip. "I didn't want to mess this up."

"You didn't." Caitlin kissed her forehead. "You're allowed to have bad days."

Alana nudged her shoulder. "You just have a whole squad now to catch you when you do."

⸻

That night, Y/n found a folded note under her pillow. Caitlin's handwriting.

"You're not just part of this team. You're part of this family. That doesn't change when you stumble. It just means we walk beside you a little closer."
—C

Underneath it, a bag of sour lollies from Kyra.
A packet of stickers from Macca.
A new training hoodie from Mini.
And a pair of socks with flames on them from Alana.
("Because you're fire, kid.")

Y/n held it all to her chest and smiled into the darkness.

Because this time, she wasn't falling alone.