USWNT Oneshots

Angel in Soccer Cleats (Abby Wambach)

After school, I ran to the Glade. The Glade is what I like to call my "chill zone". It's a clearing in the woods with a pool of water that's fed by a small waterfall. Whenever I have to deal with shit in my life, I go here and listen to music and draw. I put my earbuds in and sighed as the soothing notes of Peter Hollens and Lindsey Stirling's "Star Wars medley" filled my ears. I brought out my sketchbook and drawing supplies and started to sketch. Under my pencil, a woman with short hair began to form, kicking a soccer ball into a goal. The number 20 was clearly visible on the back of her blue jersey, as was the name "Wambach". Abby Wambach, forward for the U.S. Women's National Soccer Team, was my idol. She inspired me to do my best on the field, where I played the same position as she did. Soccer was often one of my many releases, but not today. Today, it was the source of the problem. I was the only freshman on the varsity soccer team at my school, and I started in most games. Some of the sophomore players were jealous, and therefore took their jealousy out on me. I finished with the pencil drawing, pulled out a thin sharpie, and began tracing the lines. When that was done, I pulled out colored pencils and colored sharpies, and color bloomed across the page. Just as I finished, I heard leaves crunch behind me. I turned around. "Oh, hello!" A somewhat startled voice said. "I didn't think anyone else knew about this place." My heart skipped a beat. I thought I recognized that voice from interviews. A figure stepped out of the trees, confirming my suspicions. The woman was the very same as the one in my drawing. "So this is your 'chill zone' too, huh?" Abby Wambach said. "You look like you've had a rough day." "Yeah, I have." I said. She sat down next to me and looked at my sketchbook. "Is that me?" She asked. "Yeah." I said. "You always inspire me to do my very best on the field." "Oh, you play soccer?" Abby asked. "Yup." I said. "Cool!" Abby said. "What position?" "Same as you." I replied. "Sweet!" Abby said. "You enjoy playing?" "Usually." I said. Abby raised an eyebrow. "This has something to do with the rough day you've had, doesn't it?" She said. I sighed. "Yeah." I told her about my day, and she listened. "Look, don't listen to them." Abby said when I finished. "They're just jealous. Here. You wanna exchange numbers?" "Really?" I asked. "Really." Abby said. We exchanged phone numbers. "Whenever you need someone to talk to, just text or call me, okay?" Abby said. "You are an angel." I said. "An angel in soccer cleats."

This, dear readers, is what happens when you look through the notes app on your phone. You find little forgotten bits of literature that you wrote because when you were bored on a road trip. (Legit, though, I think I wrote this while I was driving through North Carolina with my parents this summer.) ALSO: keep the requests coming! I'm trying to get information out of some people at the moment so I can do a reader insert with Alex Morgan, but keep the requests coming! You all are helping me overcome my writer's block.