𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 , 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨

1996

Sage felt gnawed by raw, sharp stress. The entire team felt it, a collective tension as nationals loomed. Each play tightened the air, and with every point, the impossible shifted. Their dream wasn't just flickering; it blazed. Victory, once a distant whisper, roared into focus—tangible, undeniable. They would achieve it.

Taissa exploded down the field, a blur of motion, intercepting the ball with a sharp, unexpected grab from the startled opponent who’d just wrestled it away from Allie. Sage's heart hammered against her ribs.

"Tai!" Her voice, raw and urgent, ripped through the swirling chaos.

Tai didn't need directions; she moved with an innate sense of the field. She pirouetted past defenders, a fluid dance of evasion. Shauna snagged the ball, a deft feint leaving her opponent flat-footed, before whipping it back to Tai. The crowd erupted. Jackie, poised like a launching mechanism, raised her hand, a silent command. Tai's pass arced through the air, a perfect trajectory, and Jackie slammed it home, the final, decisive strike.

The final whistle. They had done it. They were headed to nationals.

Barely touching the ground, Sage sprinted towards Jackie, who was already surrounded by her celebrating teammates. Lottie, a whirlwind of energy, snagged Sage first, squeezing her into a hug so tight she yelped. Van and Shauna piled on, their "Buzz, buzz, buzz!" chant a raucous wave washing over the field.

After the final whistle, Sage remained on the field, her gaze tracing the empty bleachers. It was a practiced ritual, a futile search for her mother. The vacant rows mirrored the hollowness of the promise broken yet again.

A heavy sigh escaped her as she turned to follow her teammates back into the locker room.

Days after their state win, the locker room vibrated with the energy of Salt-N-Pepa's "Shoop." The girls, fueled by the upcoming pep rally, were a blur of motion. Lottie, with a burst of playful affection, pulled Sage from her seat beside Taissa, twirling her and stealing a quick kiss on the cheek. Van's gymnastic kick, timed perfectly to a lyric, drew cheers before she disappeared into the bathroom. Notably, the tension between Sage and Natalie had vanished, replaced by a shared, spontaneous dance. Then, Sage, her gaze fixed on Van, followed her into the bathroom.

Jackie finished painting a bee on Allie's cheek, just as Sage arrived, smiling briefly before focusing on her own hair. "Allie," Jackie said, a calming tone in her voice. Sage glanced over, then back to her reflection. "You alright? It's just a pep rally," she said, her words slightly clipped.

"Honestly," Jackie said, a wry smile playing on her lips, "I think the whole point is just to give the freshmen something to jerk off to later." Sage wrinkled her nose. "Gross, Jackie." Jackie's snorting laughter bounced off the tiled walls. Lottie appeared in the doorway, a theatrical lean to her. "Jackie, coach wants to see you in his office."

A warm, reassuring smile from Jackie met Allie's gaze, but the words that followed were a stark contrast. "I'm not nervous," Allie said, her voice a soft, almost hesitant whisper.

With Jackie gone, Van took over the face painting. "I'm the only freshman who got asked," Allie said, her voice thick with heartbreak. "I know," Van replied, concentrating on the delicate lines. "It's so unfair," Allie sighed, a dramatic edge to her voice.

"Hey, at least you can wear it next year," Sage tried to say reassuringly. Allie shot her a sharp, resentful look. "You don't get it, Sage. You weren't even going," she said, her voice tight. Sage's smile vanished, and she scoffed, focusing again on her image in the mirror.

The words, sharp and unexpected, landed like a physical blow. Sage's stomach clenched, a knot of pain tightening within her, yet she maintained a carefully blank facade. Yes, she'd declined every invitation, but not from indifference. The very concept of prom felt utterly, almost painfully, insignificant.

Van cut her off, "Okay, you’re done." Allie's parting smile was laced with sarcasm, a silent retort. As the bathroom door swung shut behind the freshman, Lottie groaned, "Jesus Christ" Van shifted her attention to Sage, offering a brief, "Don't mind her." Sage managed a strained smile in response.

Lottie's voice breaks the tension. "Does someone wanna tell Kelly Kapowski to maybe worry less about prom and more about not fucking up at Nationals?"

Taissa laughs from the doorway, already checking her reflection in the mirror as if she's preparing for her own debut. "If she plays like she did at states...," Sage sighs, but Taissa cuts her off with a grin. "Yeah, don't worry. That's not gonna happen." Sage quirks an eyebrow at the girl who just replies with a smirk, before leaving the bathroom.

"All right, let's hear it for the boys! Let's give the boys a hand!" The principal's voice boomed through the hall, a wave of sound that made Sage's stomach clench. She nervously adjusted the yellow bows in her hair, the familiar gesture doing little to quell the rising tide of anxiety.

"You're going to rip those clean off," a slow drawl cut through the air beside her. Sage glanced up, finding Natalie's arms crossed, her brows arched in a silent challenge. "What’s it to you?" Sage retorted, the irritation in her voice a thin veneer over a flicker of unease.

Natalie's gaze lingered on Sage's fidgeting hands. "You’re nervous," she stated, a hint of amusement in her voice. Sage's reply, a sharp "No, I'm not," cracked under the weight of her own unease.

A snort escaped Natalie, her smirk deepening. "Right, and I'm a ballerina. Sage, your hands are trembling, and you've been fiddling with those bows nonstop. You're nervous."

Sage exhaled sharply, the sound a mix of frustration and forced surrender. "Fine," she conceded, the word clipped. "Maybe I am nervous, happy?" The question hung in the air, tinged with disbelief.

“No but watching you lose it is far more amusing.”

Sage's glare was sharp, but the betraying flush creeping up her neck told a different story. "Shut up, Nat," she muttered, the words lacking their usual bite.

Natalie leaned in, her smirk fading, replaced by a surprising sincerity. "You've got this. You're Sage Anderson, after all. You could probably trip and land face-first in the gym dust and still look perfect."

The compliment landed with the awkward thud of a backhanded toss, leaving Sage momentarily speechless. A confused laugh escaped her. "Thanks...I think?" she managed, her brow furrowed.

Natalie stepped back, her 'Don't mention it' barely audible, as Jackie's command to line up echoed through the room getting everyone's attention. Sage takes a deep breath in, before following Allie into the gym hall. The students cheer as the team runs in. Cheers fill Sage’s ears as she takes her spot on the row, clapping her hands together to the music. She looks to her left where Allie is vibing off to the response from the crowd, and then to her right where Natalie is. The bleach-blonde is amused by the team mascot that is running back and forth hyping up the crowd. Sage smiles as she stares at the older player, before looking away at the crowd of students.

A thunderous roar erupted from the gym as the team surged through the entrance, their pristine uniforms gleaming under the harsh stadium lights. Sage's eyes, momentarily blinded by the sudden brilliance, flickered across the sea of faces, a silent search amidst the cacophony.

The knot in Sage's stomach loosened; for the first time since morning, her nerves were quiet.

Taissa's words, sharp and accusing, hung in the air: "It's like you don't even care." Natalie, unfazed, simply raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me?" she drawled, the sarcasm so thick it was almost tangible. "You're being insensitive.

Sage tapped Shauna's shoulder, her finger already tracing a path towards their approaching teammates. "Hi, guys!" she chirped, her wave overly bright. The forced cheeriness, however, did little to dispel the thick tension that hung heavy between them.

"This," Taissa declared, her voice sharp, "is what we've bled for all season. Are you prepared to throw it away?" Sage noticed Lottie's subtle, repeated glances at Allie, who was oblivious, surrounded by her friends. Sage's gaze darted between the two, subtly scanning the room. A flicker of unease registered in her mind; something wasn't right with Lottie.

"Yeah," Natalie said, the familiar smirk curling the corners of her mouth, "'cause I'm not a fucking asshole."

A flicker of dread passed through Sage as she caught Shauna's rigid posture. This was it. The fuse was lit, and she was a helpless spectator, watching the slow-motion detonation of a carefully constructed facade.

"What are you guys talking about?" Shauna asked, her confusion deepening. Sage and Lottie, in unison, replied, "Allie," exchanging an amused glance that only intensified Shauna's bewilderment.

"What about her?" Shauna asked, her gaze fixed on the freshman accepting something from the older juniors.

"Did you blackout at states? She totally choked," Taissa's voice, thick with contempt, cut through the air, her brows drawing together as she addressed Shauna, radiating the sheer disbelief that she was forced to explain.

"She's a freshman, Tai," Natalie offers, her defense of Allie hanging in the air, a little too forceful. Sage's lips twitch; a smile threatens, but it's quickly suppressed. Sweet? Maybe. But the echo of Allie's disastrous performance at states lingers, a stark reminder of the truth.

Sage's thoughts churned, a silent debate raging within her. "She's a liability," Taissa stated, her voice disturbingly even, pulling Sage abruptly back to the present.

Shauna's gaze flickered from Taissa to the others, her brow furrowed, a knot of confusion and frustration tightening her features. "So," she pressed, the word heavy with unspoken questions, "what are we going to do about it?"

"She can't screw up if she doesn't get the ball," Taissa said, her eyes drilling into Shauna's. The intensity of her statement caused Sage and Natalie to exchange a knowing glance, a silent pact formed, yet neither spoke.

Sage's voice dripped with incredulity. “You wanna freeze her out?" She couldn't believe they were even considering it. After the progress they'd made, dismantling their team dynamic felt wrong, a recipe for bad karma. "At least we'd know what we're working with," Taissa insisted, her logic cold.

"She kind of sucks, but..", Lottie began, hesitating. Sage cut her off, shaking her head "No, we can't do that. It's really shitty, Tai", she stated firmly. "Yeah, I don't know", Lottie admitted, her uncertainty lingering."That's because it's bullshit!", Natalie exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

“Oh yeah? What's your plan then?” Taissa snapped, her voice laced with annoyance. "I don't know," Natalie retorted, a frustrated huff escaping her. “ Play like a fucking team and win? It's worked so far” Sage nodded, adding a silent layer of agreement. Taissa's gaze flickered to Sage, a sharp warning, before returning to Natalie.

Taissa's eyes narrowed, a familiar weariness in her gaze. "Everything works until it doesn't," she sighed, the words laced with a bitter edge. And for the record, you smell like a wino. Get your shit together." Taissa's stern words, arms crossed, hung in the air. Sage's brows flickered, a silent response.

"You know what? Fuck this," Natalie muttered, the words clipped and sharp, before storming away. Sage sighed, the sound heavy in the sudden silence. "Wow, okay," Taissa said, her eyes rolling with undisguised irritation.

"Tai, that's not fair. She's been through a lot," Sage countered, a surprising protectiveness rising within her. It felt strange, this urge to defend Natalie, a girl she'd often clashed with."Since when do you care? You're always the first to attack her, but I can’t?" Taissa retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. Sage frowned, a silent disapproval settling over her features.

"Whatever," Sage mumbled, pushing past her startled best friend and leaving the group. Lottie, her expression thoughtful, followed close behind.

Sage wrung her hands, a nervous habit she couldn't shake. "I have a really bad feeling about this," she admitted to Lottie, her long-haired neighbour, who was usually so composed. Lottie's brow furrowed. "Yeah, me too," she replied, her usual easy smile absent.