Page 80

I stretch all over, bounce on my toes, feel the grass under my feet. The scoreboard reads ten minutes to kickoff.

I block out everything else and think only about the present.

The whistle blows.

The first half starts strong. The Predators have the possession and attack with speed and intensity. Vasseur isn’t playing around. She’s showing why she’s their best player, the striker meant to replace me. She’s lethal.

But our defense is solid. Millie is on fire. Her saves keep the score at zero.

We’re not just defending, though. We’re also creating chances, and putting pressure on them. Daisy, Rebecca, and I are working well together, finding gaps in their defense as we pass the ball around.

When the ball goes out of bounds, Rosario gets ready to throw it in. Valentina opens up, and Rosario throws the ball to her.

She controls it, running forward, and sees me making a move. She passes it to me. Once I get it, I dribble past a defender.

I look up to see Daisy on the left and Rebecca on the right, but they’re both half covered.

I decide to face Maeve myself.

Four seasons of training with her. I know her. I drop the ball, expecting her to bite on the left shoulder, and she does. I shoot. It’s a long shot going over the goalkeeper’s head. It lands in the back of the net.

The crowd cheers, the Dawnbreak fans scream my name. I slide on my knees, and my teammates pile on top of me. Valentina kisses me on the cheek. I smile.

The first half ends with us leading 1–0. We’re happy, but we want more.

In the locker room, Raul tells us we’re doing great, but we need to keep up the intensity and the focus.

“Remember, this is a game of two halves,” he says, then looks at me. “Great goal, Lexa.”

My teammates cheer and I smile. “Thanks, coach.”

“If they start double-teaming you, look for an open teammate. We worked on this. The others will be ready.”

“Will do.”

We finish our drinks and get ready to go back to the field. We wait in the tunnel for the green light to return. Ingrid Vasseur moves to stand next to me. I resist the urge to clench my fists.

“Don’t get too excited,” she says with her heavy French accent. “We let you score.”

I snort. “Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.”

“It’s true.” She grins. “We were told to give the fans a show. That was it.”

I want to punch her in the face. But I don’t. I’m not going to let her get to me.

“Keep smiling. Let’s see how long it lasts when we win. I bet you’re an ugly crier,” I say.

She laughs. “You wish.”

The whistle blows, and we run out of the tunnel. I’m going to make her eat her words.

The second half is even more intense. Neither team gives an inch, but sooner or later, someone’s stamina will wear down.

The 62nd minute arrives and I get a great pass. I sprint forward, but the defenders are closing in. I know I can’t beat them all, so I look for Valentina.

She’s running parallel to me with a clear lane. I pass her the ball, and she takes it. She runs it forward and pivots toward the wing, looking to cross. She does and finds Rebecca, who heads it in.

Rebecca doesn’t run to us. She turns around and looks at the Predators’ bench first, for one long second. Then she lets us pile on her.