From across the locker room, I spotted Jenny looking in my direction, but I still didn’t change my facial expression. Gardner went over some details and plays he wanted us to keep in mind as we went up against the New York Arrows.

One thought prevailed: I would rather do a dozen more press conferences and move to Brazil than be traded to New York.

They could even be press conferences like the one I had done at the beginning of the season.

Which finally made me wonder after all these months… Sheena had never said anything else about it or the video she’d planned on pulling together after the press conference from hell. What had happened with that? I’d worry about it later, for now my one and only subject of focus was the New York Arrows and their dumbass captain, Amber.

I hadn’t even begun dreading seeing her with everything else going on. Even now that I finally remembered, I still didn’t give a crap. If anything, it gave me that much more motivation to wipe the turf with her whiny black heart.

I could do this.

I closed my eyes and relaxed. Everyone had their own way of mentally preparing for games. Me, I had a gift for zoning things out and clearing my head. I didn’t need music to get pumped up. I just visualized our game and calmed down.

“It’s time, Sally,” Harlow tapped my elbow.

I opened my eyes and grinned up at her, smacking what had to be one of the tightest butt-cheeks in the world, and walked alongside her all the way to the field.

“You gotta tell me later how you got back in,” she whispered into my ear.

I smacked her butt once more, but it was more because I was so amazed at how muscular it was than for any other reason. “Magic.”

Magic would be the best way to describe how the game went.

‘Complete and total annihilation’ would work too.

From the moment we stepped out on that field, I felt it in my veins and on my skin. I’d swear it was in the air. There were more people in the stands than there had ever been. Down the field was the New York team. We did some more last-minute stretching, Gardner called us for another quick pep talk, and we took the field.

Within the first five minutes, Grace scored a goal.

Three minutes later, with a wild header from one of the girls who hadn’t said a word to me in over a month, I threw myself in the air and scissor-kicked the crap out of the ball, feet well over my head. It was Harlow barreling toward me that told me the ball made it in the goal for a point. As soon as I was standing, she had her arms wrapped around my knees and she was holding me up, jumping up and down.

I was still in her arms when I spotted them in the first row. They were on their feet screaming, the white Corona cap had a seat center field with a familiar-looking man wearing a jersey with my number on it right next to him. Next to that jersey was another one of mine, smaller and in a different color. Kulti, my dad and mom.

That second rush filled my chest. I wasn’t sure how he’d done it—I definitely had no idea how he managed to score those seats, and part of me didn’t want to know. But they were there together. Three of the people I loved most in the world, and they were acting like they’d won a billion dollars. Without a doubt in my mind, I knew Marc and Simon were also there somewhere cheering me on.

In the second half, New York scored one goal right from the top.

A Piper scored a goal after that, bringing the score 3-1. By some insane miracle, I snuck up the corner of the field and accepted a pass from Genevieve. I didn’t even understand how the ball made it to me, but I nailed a kick as hard as I could. My anger was fueled by the shove and “slut” taunt Amber had given me a minute before. We were kicking ass, so she could call me a slut however much she wanted.