My Girl

• Prologue •

I wrap my hair tie at the end of my second french braid. Just trying to tame my curls to stay in a braid is a workout in my opinion. Our uniform includes a headband that I use to keep the baby hairs out of my face.

The velcro on my slides don't seem tight enough, so I retighten them a few times. Stupid superstition shit that I can't get over, even though I won't be wearing them during the game. I readjust my jersey and fix my belt, realizing that I forgot to shave my underarms. Again.

I peel off my jersey and put on a muscle shirt. It's chilly tonight anyways, so it's fine. I take a deep breath and shake off some of my nerves as I tuck my shirts back into my pants. "Everything is okay. This may be the biggest opportunity of my life. It's fine. Oh god it's not fine."

Before I get too far into my thoughts and insecurities, I run downstairs and get my bag ready. Filling up my water bottles and throwing in my other necessities. "Dad! Allie! My game is in fifteen minutes! We need to go!" I yell through our house.

No answer, but my phone vibrates against the countertop. I grab it and read the message out loud. "Running really late. I don't know what your dad is doing, but he has to take you. Hopefully I can make it before the seventh inning stretch. Good luck."

My eyes roll to the back of my head and I take a deep breath, trying not to explode.

I rush to my dad's bedroom, expecting him to be passed out on the bed or something. He's not there, but there's light coming from under the bathroom door. Firmly, I knock on the door, "Dad, I really need to go like yesterday. Do you want me to get in the car?"

After what seems like an eternity, he still doesn't answer. First I hear tiny whimpers, then they turn into small sobs.

"Dad? Are you okay?" I twist the knob. It's locked. "Dad! No, no, no," I mumble to myself. "Dammit dad! Let me in!" My elbow smacks against the wood. "Let me help you." A large thump comes from the other side. "Dad!"