Chapter 49

I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to shower with your leg inside a trash bag, but I one hundred percent would not recommend it to a friend. The art of balancing on your one good leg, focusing on washing your hair, and also trying to avoid knocking your knee against the shower glass is exhausting. I knew I had just under two and a half hours before the final kicked off, and I can guarantee I spent over half that time trying not to get my leg wet whilst I showered off three days of grime. If it wasn’t massively important that I get my ass to the stadium, I would’ve crawled under the covers and just slept, then dealt with the uncomfortable apology I needed to give to my girlfriend.

The girls will be well underway with their pre-match warm-up by the time I turn up, and the guilt starts to strike me when I realise that I’m not there for them. I’ve had a selfish couple of days to wallow in self-pity and upset, but I’m disappointed with myself for forgetting that I am the captain of this team, with or without playing. This is the most important point of every senior’s career, and some girls might not make States ever again.

Coach Sanders made me captain because of the way I stuck up for the team, because of the way I led the team from the back, an indomitable brick wall in defence. I need to continue to fight for them while on the bench, even if I coach them from the sidelines.

I pull a pair of shorts carefully over my legs, wincing as I rip the tape off my skin that was keeping the bag over my brace. I’ve pulled half of the leg hair on my thigh, an angry red line visible across my skin. I spy Mackenzie’s team hoodie, her number proudly displayed on the front next to the school badge. It still smells like her shampoo and perfume as I pull it over my head, the fabric soft and comforting against my skin. I could’ve worn my own, but I want her to know that I’m there for her, and in my own way, I want to show her I’m sorry before actually telling her I’m sorry.

I don’t bother putting too much effort into my appearance. I hide the bags under my eyes with concealer and throw my hair into a haphazard ponytail, the tips of my locks curling as they dry. I’m not going to a fashion show; I’m going to support my team in the state championship final.

I text my dad and ask him to come and pick me up once I’ve made myself look presentable, then eye the crutches leaning against the bed. I really don’t want to have to use them, but given that my father—who is also my doctor—is picking me up, it’s probably in my best interest to use them. I hobble out of the room and into the elevator, trying my best to keep my weight off my bad leg. I can already hear the lecture my dad will aim my way if he realises I don’t want to use them.

It’s the best thing for your recovery… If you want to play soccer again, you need to listen to me… Blah blah blah, yes, I’ll use the crutches because I know he’s right. I just know how awkward it’s going to be trying to get to my seat all the while trying not to smack a poor passer-by with a stray crutch.

“You look better,” my dad teases softly as I make my way out of the front of the hotel. He’s changed out of his scrubs into more casual jeans and a T-shirt, sunglasses pushing his long salt and pepper hair out of his eyes. I attempt to hug him as best as I can manage, attempting to enjoy the embrace with my father all whilst trying not to clout him in the shins. “Though I don’t think you’ve adjusted to the crutches yet.”

“Don’t start,” I grumble, pulling away and looking at him with a sulky look on my face. “I look like a trainwreck.”

“Don’t insult my surgical skills like that,” my dad quips, opening the passenger door for me and guiding me gently into the car. “You’ll have a gnarly scar, but that’s what all the cool kids want, isn’t it?”

“Dad, shut up!” I laugh, pulling the door shut and watching him laugh to himself as he walks around to his side. Once he’s seated and driving, I look his way. “Are you staying for the game?”

“Of course.” He smiles softly, ruffling the top of my hair. “Your mom is already there with Will. She’s saving us seats, though I can imagine you’ll probably sit with the team.”

I nod and pull my phone from my pocket as the quiet in the car is filled with the soft sounds of Neil Diamond coming from my dad’s speakers. Freya has texted me, telling me to hurry up, and my Mom has sent a picture of her and Will wearing my jersey number, my brother’s face smeared in black and purple face paint to match our uniform.

I chew on my bottom lip as I see neither Mackenzie nor April have messaged me. I never replied to Mack’s text message at the hospital, so she probably decided not to push or smother me. She knows me better than I know myself, but I miss her now and desperately want her to not be mad with me. I want to kiss and make up and then be alright again. It’s been two days with no contact, and it is killing me. And once again, I am the reason for it.

Ah well, now it’s on me to fix it.

My dad pulls up outside the player entrance, leaving the car running as he helps me out of the car and passes me my crutches from the back seat. He kisses me quickly on the cheek. “Go get your girl, kid. And go get your trophy.”

I laugh as he waves hysterically in front of all the passers-by, the tips of my ears warming in embarrassment as he continues to shout, “My daughter is the captain, that’s my daughter right there!” as he drives away.

My smile is still pulling at my cheeks as I turn and move towards the entrance, flashing my player card at the scary-looking security guard, thanking him quietly as he opens the door for me and I wander towards the changing rooms. I sigh heavily as I push my nerves down into my stomach, the palms of my hands slipping against the rough plastic of the crutch grip. I can hear the noise in the stadium, the pounding of feet above me, the cheering as the UPenn soccer stadium fills up. Whilst I’m not sure that it’ll be at full capacity, I know that my brother drummed up a lot of interest in this game with his football team, and I think they’ve convinced a lot of neutrals to turn up for the Panthers this afternoon.

Underneath the stadium, the halls are surrounded by cold grey concrete, with posters and picture frames littering the walls in an attempt to make the space feel more homely. Dim, flickering lights line the walls, threatening to turn off when the roof shakes with footsteps from above. The floor is of dark wood, polished to the point I can see my reflection when I look closely, with UPenn carpets proudly placed throughout the corridor.

I turn down the corridor towards the changing rooms we’ve been using for the duration of the tournament when I bump into April, filling her water at the fountain outside. She’s dressed for the final, her auburn hair pulled into a bun atop her head, a thin headband keeping her stray curls from her face. Her eyes widen when she sees me coming over, instantly stopping filling her bottle.

“Alex!” She starts, running over and pulling me into a bone-crushing hug that makes me wince. “Thank God you’re here!”

“April,” I groan, a wince making its way past my lips as I grimace at the pain of her slamming into my knee. “My knee.”

There’s a shooting ache through my leg that I haven’t felt before, travelling from my knee all the way into my hip. I couldn’t help the small moan of pain that escaped my lips seconds earlier, and it wasn’t my intention to make her feel guilty. April lets go faster than she hugged me, her face showing her horror as she registers the pain on my own features. “Jesus, sorry! I almost forgot!”

“The crutches weren’t a dead giveaway?” I attempt to smirk, but the pain that is shooting up my leg is making it very difficult to concentrate on anything else. I can see the worry swirling in her green eyes, her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks at me. “You don’t have to look at me like that, Apes, I’m okay.”

“So long as you’re sure,” she says, picking her bottle up from where she dropped it moments earlier. “It is really good to see you.”

I smile at her, the throbbing pain slowly subsiding into a dull ache. It gratefully stops before I start crying because I hate crying and I’ve done too much of it recently. Plus, it would no doubt streak the concealer desperately trying to hide the tiredness clinging under my eyes. “I’m really sorry about what I said back at the hospital. I didn’t mean it, and I really need to stop using your relationship with my brother as an insult.”

April looks at me, a soft gaze in her eyes. “It’s okay, Alex, you don’t need to apologise.”

“No, I really do. I hated what I said the second everyone left.”My voice grows thick as the disappointment I have for myself weighs heavily on my chest, guilt starting to gnaw at my insides like a hungry animal, threatening to tear me open. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone that night.”

“Alex, you were in a really shítty spot. You had everyone talking about you as if you weren’t there. You were right, that conversation about your injury and your surgery should’ve been with just your family, your actual family.” April brushes a curl of my hair out of my face before kissing me quickly on the cheek. “It was an emotional day for you. I didn’t hold it against you. I don’t think anyone in that room did.”

I breathe out a sigh of relief, wrapping one arm around her neck and pulling her in for a hug. She’s careful not to slam into me this time, which I’m very grateful for. “Thank you.”

I untangle myself from the hug—the scent of her perfume clinging to my nostrils—before pointing to the door to the locker room. “Are the, uh, team still in there?”

April raises an eyebrow at my question, the smirk tugging at her mouth proof she knows I don’t particularly want to know if the whole team is in there, just perhaps a certain blonde with bee-stung lips. Mt blonde with bee-stung lips.

“They’re all about to head out on the pitch, unfortunately,” she says as we walk towards the door. “I only came in to fill up my bottle. I don’t think now is particularly the time for an apology with her, she’s had her headphones in for the last hour, and Coach told me to come back as quickly as possible so I can walk the team out onto the pitch.”

“Oh shít, yeah, of course!” I quickly throw my hand into the pocket of Mackenzie’s hoodie, pulling out my lucky captain’s armband. I have never lost a game wearing this armband, and the whole team knows it. The one time I didn’t wear it was against the State Champions last year, and we all know how that game turned out. April is my vice-captain, and we agreed with Coach Sanders that should the need arise for a captain if I’m indisposed, like I am now, April would wear the armband and Raven would step into the vice-captain position. “I’m glad I caught you, I wanted you to wear this one, so I’m on the pitch with you.”

“Alex Doherty, are you giving me your lucky armband?” April gapes, throwing her arm out to allow me to slide it on.

“Hopefully, there’s enough luck in it for tonight.” I grin before nodding towards the door. “Go on, or Coach will kill you. I’ll be right behind you.”

April blows me a kiss before running back into the changing rooms, and in the brief moments the door is open, I can hear Coach barking at the players to head to the tunnel, so I wait for a couple more minutes, smiling awkwardly at staff rushing past me as their strange looks make me feel even more uncomfortable, before pulling the door open and limping inside.

~.~

The locker room is empty, save for the heavy scent of hairspray and girl’s perfume. Clothes litter the various benches around the room, and sports bags lie around unzipped and gutted of uniform. My eyes find Mackenzie’s clothes immediately, my heart softening when I see my team sweatshirt folded neatly atop her stuff. She wore my clothes to the game.

“It seems great minds think alike,” a familiar voice mutters and I start, spinning to face the direction of the tunnel exit. Coach Sanders stands there smiling, her greying hair hidden underneath her coaching cap and her signature notebook tucked underneath her arm. “I’m glad you showed up, Alex, the team needs you here.”

“I wasn’t going to miss this.” I smile weakly, limping over to where she’s stood. “I figured I’d put you out of a job and coach from the sidelines.”

Coach scoffs, resting her hand softly on my shoulder as she steers me towards the tunnel. “You’ve always been a coach on this team, you’re just going to be standing next to me this game instead of beside them.”

I blink as we walk out onto the pitch, the floodlights momentarily blinding me. A cheer goes up around the stadium, and I look onto the pitch to see that the captains have been called for the coin toss. We walk as quickly as I can manage over to the team bench, shouts of surprise and relief coming from my teammates, their faces a picture of how happy they are to see me.

Emma smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes as I take a seat beside her. Things have never returned to how they used to be after I shouted at her in the showers, and her indifference only got worse when Mackenzie and I came out as a couple. She still listened to me on the pitch, which was a smart move from her because if she didn’t, she knew she wouldn’t play.

Her dislike of Mackenzie never wavered, and I would often catch her scowling at the back of my girlfriend’s head when she thought nobody was looking.

She still joins in with everyone as they ask me questions about my knee, how my operation went, how long I have to wear the brace for, and how soon I can get back to playing. The whistle blows to start the game, and it takes everything in me not to bounce my injured knee, the pain coming back in waves each time I forget. I answer quickly as my eyes drift onto the pitch, instantly landing on Mackenzie.

She looks incredible, even in a soccer uniform. She’s stood with the opposition’s back line, her strong hands firmly on her hips, her face set in concentration, and those bee-stung lips of hers pursed as she scans the game unfolding in front of her. She’s beautiful, with her hair tied up in a bun, her strong, dark eyebrows pulled together as she tries to break free from the girl marking her.

I look out amongst the game, and it suddenly clicks that we’ve played this team before, horror dawning on me when I meet the malevolent gaze of the goalkeeper, her venomous green eyes boring into my own as she has the cheek to wave at me from her position between the posts.

“Brilliant,” I mutter grimly as I watch Gee -Mackenzie’s serpent of an ex-girlfriend- shouting orders to her defence, the white captain’s armband standing out in stark contrast to the appropriately coloured goalkeeper uniform she’s wearing. Green, like the snake inside her personality.

I sit in tense silence for the next fifteen minutes, biting at the loose skin of my bottom lip as I watch the team get off to a slow start. Heather, the girl replacing me at the back, is not as vocal as I was, and it’s affecting the team cohesion. It isn’t her fault, but the girls are so used to having me there, shouting at them to press or drop, or to double up, that they seem slightly lost now that I’m not there commanding their every move.

We’re not pressing as a unit, we’re misplacing passes, and I can see frustration building among the girls as they start quietly bickering with each other when things don’t go their way. I groan into my hands as I watch a team that hasn’t put a foot wrong all season begin to descend into chaos.

That only becomes worse when we concede the first goal. A roar goes up from the crowd as their striker, who I had no trouble with earlier in the season, rolls past Heather and puts the ball just out of Gemma’s reach. I can’t help but look towards Gee, who’s sporting a vicious smile as she celebrates with her defenders.

I force myself to my feet, unable to sit here quietly as I watch my team, my friends, start arguing with each other on the pitch. I lean beside Coach Sanders and Mr. Walker, who both send me a knowing look that quite simply translates to “Sort your girls out.”

To which I respond by angrily barking orders at the girls on the pitch regarding their positioning or lack of communication.

It was like a switch went off when they registered it was me shouting from beside Coach. A collective look of relief spreads between the girls, Elise immediately running over to me on the sidelines when I call her across.

“Elise, tell Raven she needs to step in for me and keep you all in line. You’re not pressing together, you’re sitting too deep. You’re not communicating with each other!” I growl, slamming my hand down on her shoulder and pulling her towards me. “You guys are better than this. Just because I’m not on that pitch doesn’t mean you all forget the basics of how to play!”

Elise looks at me with a grin, clapping her hand on my shoulder, a spark slowly reforming behind her eyes. “Yes, captain.”

“Freya!” I holler, and she turns to look my way. I see a sly look on her face as I remind her of how we played against these guys earlier in the season, how she scored two goals from nothing, merely picking up the ball at the edge of the box and forcing a shot. She salutes me as she places the ball back down in the centre circle, the referee blowing his whistle to restart play.

“Gee doesn’t know how to dive!” I shout loudly, hopefully loud enough to hear me. “Aim those shots to the corners and she has no chance!”

The girls immediately start playing like a team, passing the ball around with an ease we haven’t seen all game. Savannah drives the ball down the line and whips a bullet of a cross into the box, Freya aiming her header inches over the bar.

A small cough sounds next to me, and I look to see Coach Sanders looking at me with pride written all over her features. “What?”

“Does this make you realise how important you are to these girls?” she says, forcing a lump to build in my throat. “They all didn’t think you’d show, and look at the difference now that you’re here.”

I knew that the girls looked up to me, but I didn’t realise that their slump in form was because they didn’t think I was here. Did I really leave such a negative impression that they thought I would wallow in my own self-pity and not turn up for them? Or did they think that my injury would keep me in the hospital and I’d be unable to turn up?

Thinking about it, I hadn’t spoken to anyone since I was whisked away. I had ignored several text messages from the girls and hadn’t let Freya know whether I’d be turning up, so she couldn’t relay it back to the team. I start to feel guilty again, my own selfishness once again not taking anyone else’s feelings into consideration.

“Like I said,” I mutter, letting my eyes fall back on the game. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

“Alex,” Coach says my name, and I look and face her again. Her eyes are soft as she speaks, and even Mr. Walker takes that as a cue to leave and walk a bit further down the sideline to continue coaching. “I’m fully confident that you will get offers from colleges at the end of this game, regardless of the result. But I want you to know that even if you don’t get the scholarship to UPenn as a player, I want to offer you one as a coach.”

My eyes widen as my breath gets stuck in my throat. “What?”

“Like I said last game, I’m leaving to coach college soccer in the fall.” She finally drops the tough act on me, and I can see the smile pushing past her lips. “I’m going to be the head coach of the UPenn women’s soccer team. So like I said, if you don’t get the scholarship as a player, or your recovery doesn’t go as well as I hope it will, I’ve already spoken to the university, and they’re prepared to offer you a sports scholarship as a member of my coaching staff.”

I feel tears build at the corners of my eyes as I look at a woman I have idolised for most of my high school years. A woman who has often been there for me more than my own mother is stood on the sidelines with me at a state championship final, offering me the one thing I have been desperate to hear back from all year.

“I’ve got into UPenn?” I sob, leaning over and crushing her into a hug, enjoying the feeling of her wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

“You’ve got into UPenn, kid.”

~.~

Halftime had come and gone, and the girls were still 1-0 down. They’d managed to get back into the game, but nothing was working in terms of breaking down their defence or making Gee’s life too difficult.

I hadn’t gone into the locker room at half time, telling Coach I needed to go and see my parents, who were sitting behind where our bench was. That was the truth, as my leg was in agony and I knew my dad had my painkillers in his bag. I knew that I needed to sit down for a few minutes and take my hands out of my crutches as my palms were burning with the pain of propping me up for nearly the whole first half.

I locked eyes with Mackenzie, who flashed a small, adorable smile my way before walking down the tunnel with the rest of the team, her skin flushed with the effort from the last forty five minutes. I smiled back, relieved at the lack of anger or malice in her gaze.

I told my Mom and Dad about the offer Coach had given me, and the pride on their faces as they kissed my cheeks was enough to know this year was worth it. I assured my dad that playing next year was my top priority and I would take my recovery incredibly seriously, but the relief that had bloomed in my chest knowing my future and dream school was still well within my grasp—I’ve never felt anything like it.

I decided then and there that I would complete the relevant coaching badges alongside my physio and recovery over the summer. Whilst I’m more than happy to order the girls around on the pitch and understand the rules of the game like the back of my hand, I’m still a novice when it comes to all the backroom stuff that keeps Coach in her office well after her finish time.

I always give one hundred percent when I set my mind on a task, except maybe homework, and if she’s risking her reputation on me, I’m going to make sure that she took the right risk.

The girls settled in well for the start of the second half. They came out with a renewed vigour and quickly turned into the indomitable team we had been all season. Minutes were ticking away though, and each one that passed meant that I had bitten more of the skin from my bottom lip until I started to taste blood.

Time is ebbing away, and slowly, we’re running out of chances. The girls are frustrated, and the other team’s defence is holding strong, Gee viciously keeping any ball out of the net. There are only fifteen minutes left before the championship slips through our fingers, and I know we need to change something.

“I’m not sure what to change here,” Coach grumbles, Mr. Walker nodding along with a frown on his face. Her eyes are skimming the pages of her notebook, her fingers massaging the pulse point in her temple.

My eyes scan the bench and fall on Emma, who’s watching the game with a nervous edge to her gaze, knees bobbing to no doubt fight off the cold. My eyes wander over to the left-hand side, where our current winger is struggling to get the best of her defender. She’s strong, but she’s not able to gather the pace to beat her in a footrace.

“Put Emma on the left,” I mutter before coughing the nerves away slightly and looking more sure of my suggestion. “Coach, put Emma on the left.”

Coach raises her eyebrow my way before her gaze falls to Emma on the bench. “Why?”

“Because Emma is the fastest girl on our team,” I start before smirking, “except for me. She doesn’t need to hold up against their defender, she just needs to beat her and get a cross in. Plus, she’s one of our best set-piece takers, and worst case, if this goes to penalties, she never misses.”

Coach’s gaze is unreadable before she cracks a smile. “Get her warmed up and briefed, coach. I’ll let the referee know we’ll be making a sub in five minutes.”

I swallow my nerves and flash a weak smile before limping over to the bench, the girls’ faces looking up with anticipation. “Emma, get warmed up.”

There’s a look of surprise on her face as she jumps up from the bench, wariness clear in her facial expression. The other girls’ shoulders drop slightly in disappointment, but they know to be on standby in case they’re called upon. I watch on as she jogs down the touchline, warming up by completing various stretches before walking over to me, leaving her jacket on until she’s to go on the pitch.

“You have one job, Emma,” I say to her as we watch the game. “You’ll be on the left, and all you have to do is beat your player. I don’t care if you knock the ball on and run past her, I just care about you beating her. Don’t get caught up in a strength test because you will lose, but you have the pace to beat her and get a ball in the box.”

Emma nods vigorously, hanging onto every word I say. I place my hand on her shoulder and smile. “You’ve got this.”

Emma walks over to Coach Sanders and bounces on the sideline, waiting for the ball to go out of play before she can be subbed on.

My eyes fall on my girlfriend standing not too far away from me. She pulled her hair out of the bun at halftime, opting for a high ponytail that allowed her baby hairs to fall in front of her gorgeous grey eyes, which are currently swirling a storm.

I try not to drool when she wipes her brow with the bottom of her shirt, exposing her toned stomach, the waistband of her shorts hung low, exposing her toned V’s dipping underneath. I honestly can’t get enough of her.

I catch her gaze and watch as she smiles gently, sending a small wink my way before returning her attention to the game. As much as I want the girls to win the championship, and as much as I want to lift the trophy before I go to college, I just want it to be over so I can drag my girlfriend back to our hotel room and show her just how sorry I am for the last few days. Mackenzie looking like this is only making me want it more.

The ball goes out for a corner, allowing us the chance to make the changes, and a loud cheer erupts as Emma’s name gets called for the substitution. I high-five Sadie, the girl she’s replacing, and watch as she walks over to the bench and happily accepts a large overcoat from the girls sitting beside her.

“Set piece three,” I mutter quietly into Emma’s ear, watching as she nods with determination before heading onto the pitch.

Emma jogs over to take the corner, and my heart is pounding. I’ve influenced this substitution from the perspective of a coach, not a captain. I’m struggling to force air out of my lungs as I watch Emma line up to take the corner, sticking three fingers in the air and setting her feet.

I can’t breathe as I watch the ball fly into the box.

I scream as the ball ricochets off Freya’s head and hits the back of the net.

The relief I feel rushes through my body as the girls cheer, April wrestling the ball out of Gee’s hands and running back to the centre spot. I shout encouragement at the girls and beam at Emma, whose face is a mixture of pride and disbelief as everyone runs over and slaps their hands on her back.

“Not bad, coach.” The nudge to my side is paired with a small smirk on Coach Sanders’ face, and my cheeks redden with satisfaction as I smile back. Maybe I can do this whole coaching thing.

The girls restart the game with fierce determination, aggressive tackles flying in and the ball being launched up the pitch with newfound resolve. Emma is beating her player every time, and the frustration building in the opposition is leading to dirty tackles, more fouls, and more cards.

Despite this, the seconds are ticking down and the dread builds in my stomach at the thought of going to extra time when the girls are clearly exhausted. There’s five minutes of normal time, and we’re still not having any luck getting the ball in the back of the net. More substitutions are made, and Elise is replaced by a young sophomore after a particularly heavy challenge against her ankle. The fresh legs are helping us mount attacks.

At last we have the breakthrough.

Emma knocks the ball past her player and bursts down the left-hand side, Mackenzie pushing herself into the box and shouldering off the defender tightly marking her. Emma launches a ball into the box, and it lands perfectly on Mackenzie’s foot as she volleys it past Gee in the net.

I cannot hear anything over the deafening roar of the crowd, our team, the bench. I watch with jealousy as the girls on the bench sprint onto the pitch to meet the girls in the corner as they pile on top of Mackenzie, opting for proudly clapping and whistling for my girl.

Then I see her run over.

My stomach starts to knot excitedly as she makes her way over to me, the grin on her face infectious. I love that she has made her way over to me, even if our last conversation was sour.

I grin as she grasps my hand and ghosts a kiss on my knuckles before jogging back for the restart before she gets booked.

Coach Sanders makes a final change to add another defender and orders the girl to park the bus, putting every player behind the ball and giving the opposition no options when it comes to attack. I stand and bite my nails to the very end as I watch with sickness building in my stomach as their team pushes with everything they have.

When the final whistle blows, the feeling of absolute euphoria floods my system. If my leg wasn’t knackered, I would’ve dropped to the floor. Tears fall from my eyes as I watch on and beam as the girls celebrate with each other, bouncing in a circle and piling on top of each other.

“Well done.” Coach Sanders throws an arm over my shoulder and pulls me close, embracing me in a familial hug. “You are just as included in this win as everyone on that pitch tonight.”

I give her a watery smile as I hobble out onto the pitch, hugging the girls as I walk past them.

Mackenzie sees me and smiles, walking over slowly through the crowd, stopping short of a hair’s breadth away from me. She’s warm, her heat radiating off her and warming the chill dancing across my skin. Her eyes are shining with joyful tears, her lip wobbling slightly as her hand brushes against mine. “Hi.” She beams, stopping inches away from me and leaning in.

“Hi.” I grin as she buries her fingers in my hair and plants a kiss on my lips that leaves me breathless. It’s far too short, and I miss her lips the second they leave mine. My skin feels warm as I see the love in her gaze, my free hand reaching up and cupping her cheek adoringly, loving the feeling of her flushed skin in my palm.

“I am so proud of you,” I breathe, my fingers tracing the contours of her face, my thumb dragging her bottom lip down. I take in every little crease of her skin, the softness of her gaze, the smell of her perfume. “And I am so, so sorry for how I spoke to you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she mumbles, kissing me quickly again. “We can talk about it later, but I just wanted to make sure you were included in the celebrations.” Her words warm my heart as she entangles her fingers with mine, pressing another kiss into my hairline as we stand in our own little world in the middle of a soccer pitch full of people cheering. Mackenzie’s free hand fiddles with the tassels of her hoodie, a smirk pulling at her lips as she registers I’ve been wearing a hoodie with her name proudly displayed.

“Didn’t realise I had a personal cheerleader for the game.” She grins.

“I’m always your personal cheerleader.” I nip at her bottom lip teasingly, revelling in the way her eyes darken at the action. “A personal cheerleader who really can’t wait to apologise at the hotel.”

Mackenzie barks out a laugh as we walk slowly over to the rest of the team, Mackenzie bearing a lot of my weight as I wince with the effort.

I’m suddenly wrapped up in several pairs of sweaty arms, cheering and shouting and excited screams enveloping me as I celebrate the win with the team, the hard work of the year pouring out of me in relieved tears.

The girls let me lift the trophy, April handing me my captain’s armband and sliding it over the sleeve of Mackenzie’s hoodie. I can’t stop crying as I hold the trophy over my head, finally feeling like this year was worth it.

Coach Sanders takes the trophy away and the girls finally get to go and see their families. Mackenzie beams as she sees her brother and Piper pushing through the crowd to see her. I grin as we make our way over to them when I notice the panicked look on her brother’s face, something I wasn’t at all expecting.

“Hey!” Mackenzie breathes, releasing her grip on my hand and opening her arms for a hug when her brother quickly speaks.

“Mack, I don’t think you want to…”

I watch as Mackenzie stops short, her usually tanned skin paling like she’s seen a ghost. Her gaze is locked onto something behind her brother, and I watch as her whole body shuts down on herself.

I have never seen her look like this.

I watch an older couple I have never seen before pushing through the crowd, my eyes widening at the realisation that Mackenzie looks identical to the older woman striding towards us. Mackenzie’s arms drop to her side, and I take hold of her hand as an act of comfort.

They have the same light blonde hair and stormy grey eyes, though the woman’s lips are twisted in a way that Mackenzie’s have never been. Whilst her gaze is soft and adoring, the woman’s is similar to that of a hawk circling its prey. I blanch as I realise that walking towards us is her mother, the woman who kicked her out and abandoned her for being gay, and I feel an icy rage slither through my veins.

“Mackenzie.” The woman stops a small distance away from her daughter, her posture rigid and cold. Her eyes flicker to me, distaste pulling at the corners of her thin lips as her gaze stops on our interlinked hands. “It would’ve been nice to get an invite to the game personally.”

I watch as Mackenzie’s throat works harshly, her fingers tightening around my own until her knuckles turn white. Her face is slack, panic evident on her face as she stares blankly at her parents.

The man, who I can only assume is her father, hasn’t spoken; in fact, he looks rather uncomfortable as his own gaze flickers quickly between the two females like an onlooker watching a tennis match. Where Mackenzie clearly inherits her appearance from her mother, I can see that Nate mirrors their father. They have the same strong frame and square jaw, though Nate’s eyes are just like his mother’s.

“Mom,” Mackenzie finally forces out, the air thick with awkward tension. “I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with me, given the way you kicked me out.”

Her mother rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue, disdain clear on her face as she registers that I’m still here. “I don’t think it’s appropriate you have her here for this conversation, Mackenzie. This is a family conversation.”

“She is family,” Mackenzie snaps, taking a step closer to me. She almost shields me from her mother, taking a step in front of me like a barrier separating me from the woman who Mackenzie is still afraid of. “She is more family to me than you have been the last few years.”

We never really discussed her family, other than the brief conversation regarding how her Mom found the pictures of her and her ex-girlfriend hidden in her bedroom. I squeeze her fingers, a silent signal that I am not going anywhere, and she casts a soft smile over her shoulder in acknowledgment of the gesture.

“Honestly, I thought a few years would’ve seen you grow out of this.” Her mother’s words slice through even me, and I wince, horrified at the tone and insinuation behind her words. “You were supposed to get over this when you moved in with Nate.” She casts a glare in the direction of her son. “I see he isn’t the positive influence I had hoped for.”

I look at Mackenzie and realise that she’s shaking, anger pulling her thick brows together, her lips set in a furiously thin line. Nate opens his mouth to speak, but Piper places a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he stops as he casts a helpless glance at me.

The coldness radiating off this woman is something I have never felt before. I can clearly tell she’s homophobic, and it’s the first time I’ve ever really come across the prejudice the older generation carries since I came out. I always thought that I would cower away, run from the judgement and the glares, hide in the closet I have spent months trying to feel safe enough to leave.

But I don’t. I know my family loves me. I know my friends love me. And I know that Mackenzie is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and all I want to do is protect her and love her in the same way she has loved me.

“Why did you come here?” The words flow out of my mouth before my brain catches up. The hawk’s eyes fully register me, and I square my shoulders as I limp forwards, squeezing Mackenzie’s hand comfortingly. “Surely you know that sexuality isn’t a thing that you can just wake up and get over?”

It’s like her mother is seeing me for the first time, and as she straightens, it feels as if her presence is looming over me. But I don’t back down from her hateful gaze or the sneer twisting at the face she shares with her daughter. “And why should I listen to anything spoken by a girl who is clearly poisoning my daughter?”

I laugh. A sarcastic, hollow laugh as I stare her down. I think of every time Mackenzie has stood up for me. I think of how much love and patience and kindness she has offered me ever since I met her, and all I want to do in this moment is protect her, to show her that I love her.

“I think you have enough poison for the both of us, thank you. And I love your daughter, and I care for her, and that should be enough for you. I don’t know you, and frankly, I don’t care to. Your daughter is incredible, and I strive to love her the same way she loves me, an emotion she clearly didn’t inherit from you.”

The cruel look drops from her mother’s face, and I revel in the surprise that coats her features. I realise I have been squeezing the life out of her daughter’s hand, and I release my iron grip ever so slightly.

“I want to give her everything. I want to wake up next to her and love her every second of every day. I want to hold her when she’s upset, and smile when she laughs, and revel in the fact that she loves me just as much as I love her. I’m really sorry, Mrs. Daniels, but I am in love with your daughter, and your prejudice is not going to change that.”

I kiss Mackenzie’s cheek softly, smiling at the beaming smile on her face before walking away, pulling her after me. “You don’t deserve her, and she’s better off without you.”

“I love you,” she whispers in my ear once we leave them behind, pressing a kiss against my temple. “Thank you.”

“I hope that is better than the grovelling apology I had planned later.” I grin as we walk back into the tunnel.

“Oh, trust me, I’ll be showing you just how grateful I am for you sticking up for me later,” she teases, ghosting a kiss over my parted lips. She drops the smirk and shows me a soft, genuine smile as she cups my cheek in her palm. I find myself involuntarily leaning into her touch. “But seriously. Thank you. I have hated that woman for a long time, and I am so grateful you were there for me.”

“I love you, Mackenzie,” I say fiercely, placing a chaste kiss against her palm. “I will always be there to protect you.”

“Always?”

“Always.“

~.~

THE END

Wow. I don’t really have any words to say. For many of you, this has been a long, long journey over four long years, and finally, this book is done. These characters, this story, is and always will be incredibly close to my heart, as for a very long time, this is how I felt.

Alex is very much an embodiment of myself. She has learnt to love herself the same way I did, and I cannot be prouder of where she has ended up.

I am so grateful to every one of you who has liked, commented, saved and read this book, and I hope I have given them an ending that you are happy with, but also the ending they clearly deserved. 

I have thought long and hard about where to go from here, and at the moment, this is it. There won’t be a sequel, as I feel that this is enough of a story for Alex and Mack, though I definitely will be doing some bonus chapters and an epilogue. 

Again, thank you from the bottom of my heart to @Pinksterr12,who has been an absolute rock for me, and has once again done a phenomenal job of editing this chapter, and frankly a large chunk of this book. 

It’s sad to know this is where I leave Alex and Mackenzie, but the best thing about this is you can imagine an ending for them in any way that you want. 

As always, all my love, 

Lauryn