the three of us {chim}

𝟏

𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲'𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝘃

"Wake up! You'll be late for your first day!"

I am shaken awake by my loud mother. She never bothers to wake me up with the gentle touch of a loving mother. For the past 10 years, I've dreamed of her waking me up as she used to when I was a child. I guess I've grown up too much.

"Alright, alright I'm up!" I snap, receiving a look from my Mum that tells me to calm down. "Sorry."

"Come on, then, don't be late for your first practice," she says, trying to be sweet, but not forgetting my earlier attitude. So much for a good start to the day.

I look at the alarm clock on my bedside table and it reads seven. Practice starts at seven-thirty and I barely have any time to get ready. Mum leaves me to it, allowing me to run over to the bathroom. I frantically pull my long, brown hair back into a ponytail, wash my face, brush my teeth, and scramble to the wardrobe. I rummage through my clothes, looking for my football kit. It's my first day on the new team and my stomach is in knots. I've played all my childhood, but I don't know how I'll compare to all the top-league girls already on the team.

Mum pulls me out of my thoughts, tossing my jersey and shorts from the clean laundry on my bed. She tells me off for taking too long and begins hurrying me as she heads downstairs.

I throw my cleats on while walking down the steps, stopping to tie them at the front door.  Before Mum can start honking the horn from the car, I grab my duffel and rush outside. I hop in the car and Mum immediately backs out of our drive.  We speed down the freeway, trying to be on time for the first day. I can tell Mum is already annoyed at me for ignoring her words last night and not setting my alarm.

"Merde," She curses under her breath as a person tries to cut us off.

My parents—well, foster parents—are from France and moved to London for job opportunities when I was five. I was adopted at the age of two and forced to learn French. I quite like being bilingual, but moving back and forth has caused me to lose all my friends from over the years. I spend a lot of time by myself, but most times I don't really mind.

"How much longer?" I anxiously ask.

"Don't worry, you'll be on time."

A couple of minutes later, we pull into a parking spot at the large stadium. Without saying a word, I quickly grab my stuff from the backseat and rush into the giant building.

"You're late!" my coach shouts. I look over and see her sitting on the bleachers, scowling at me.

"Loads of traffic," I lie, just crossing my fingers she won't kick me off the team then and there.

"Just don't be late again," she says, nodding towards the field.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Coach Rutherford," she corrects me on her name that I had not taken the time to learn at tryouts last week. I simply smile and join the rest of the girls sitting in a circle in the middle of the field.

"And then he said—oh, hey!" one of the girls smiles up at me as I sit down in the empty space beside her.

"Hey, I'm Camille."

"I'm Ferne, the captain."

"Aye," I reply before looking around at all the other girls.

"This is Hannah, Georgia, Lena, Jade, Abbey, Jillian, Brianna, Kira, Emily, and Spencer," she introduces me to all the girls, who wave and greet me at the same time, making us fall into giggles.