Sway

There were the good days, and there were the bad.

“You don’t see how it’s fucked up that you spent it all on booze? What the fuck is wrong with you?” A loud bang, like a fist in the wall.

“Don’t speak to me like that. I swear to God —”

“What? What?”

“Don’t test me.”

The arguments came and went like clockwork. Sometimes Ashlyn thought they came as surely as high tide did, easing back in the day and encroaching further and further with the falling sun. When it was the two of them, Ashlyn and Chris would escape together to the skate park or the beach, boards in hand. Any yelling was lost on the wind, a long way away.

“Don’t look at me! What the fuck am I supposed to do about it? I’m the one who’s hurting here, not you! You don’t even know what pain is.”

The day Chris left was a bad day. Ashlyn was losing her one piece of protection when they couldn’t be out of the house. He was leaving her, alone, to deal with everything — all that they said and did. At first, she wondered if she should take the bottles. Then, she decided she didn’t want to be around to see them. She stayed out as long as she could that day, trying desperately to tire herself out enough to avoid thinking, but it was no use.

She laid in bed wishing that the waves she heard outside her window were closer and that her brother was home. Try as she might, her mind just couldn’t find the good days amongst all the bad.

It’s only a couple more years, she thought to herself. It’s only a couple more years.

Once she did leave, there were more good days.

A good day was like when she and the rest of her team won the NCAA Championship. She had hoisted the trophy with Whitney, grinning like a fool, hardly even remembering that there was a time she was seriously going to quit. And Whitney had grinned back, laughing with her eyes.

A bad day was when another National Team camp rolled around and she still wasn’t on the roster. She had been a staple in the youth teams; she had been their first choice for keeper. Now, she wasn’t even getting a second glance.

Since she had moved out of her childhood home in Satellite Beach, things had been a bit better in some regards. On her athletic scholarship, room and board were paid for, as was a meal plan that accommodated for an athlete-sized diet. She had friends surrounding her, a coach who thought highly of her, and her parents were virtually nonexistent — a blessing.

Then there were times where things were a little bittersweet.

“So…what are you gonna do about her?” Ashlyn let out a breath she felt she’d been holding for the past two weeks. She knew Whit had been treading around the topic ever since they found out they (and fellow teammate Tobin Heath as well) would be playing for the Pali Blues that summer.

Now that day had been a good day. They’d all gotten confirmation of their contracts with the team and celebrated first by running around Whit and Ashlyn’s dorm and then by going out for a few drinks at the favorite bar hangout for UNC students. It wasn’t the highest level of competition, but it was a step in the right direction and a sure sign, Ashlyn hoped, that she could really turn this into a career.

“Well…” she said, drawing out the word to buy herself more time to think. It wasn’t something she particularly liked to think about. After all, she was starting to really like the girl. They weren’t serious in that way that screamed of a future, but she hadn’t really felt like this ever before.

“Well…”

“Have you talked to her?”

“She knows about the team,” Ashlyn said. A beat. “She knows where the team is.”

“Okay, but you can’t just assume that she understands where this relationship is going.” Ashlyn rolled her eyes and went back to making a sandwich. “Ashlyn, I’m serious. You actually have to have a conversation with her. You know, when you aren’t shoving your tongues down each other’s throats.”

“We have conversations, Whitney Engen. We have plenty of conversations.” It was Whit’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Not from what I’ve seen,” she muttered, contorting her face into the picture of disgust. Ashlyn laughed, her mind immediately taken back to all those forays in her room, her hand’s buried deeply in the girl’s hair, her scent surrounding her like a cloud. “Do you even know what you want?”

Ashlyn shook her head. “I mean — don’t get me wrong — she’s amazing, but we’re going out to California. She’s staying here. It’s a lot. I don’t want a long distance…thing. I don’t do long distance.”

Whitney got up from the sad, lumpy excuse of a couch they had and grabbed hold of Ashlyn’s face between her hands. Leveling their eyes, she nearly yelled at her, “Tell her then!”

“Don’t lead her on, Ash. This was a good relationship for you.”

“Yeah, of course,” Ashlyn replied, caught again in that space between past and present.

Sometimes there was that haze of choices and roads not taken that surrounded her like a cloud as her mind turned over each unexplored avenue, kneading it like dough until she wore herself out or worked herself into a frenzy. What if she had never met her? What if they actually were meant to be? What if she could never find anyone else like her? What if going to the Pali Blues was the wrong choice?

“Hey, you wanna go down to Pulse? I wanna do something tonight.” Whit looked at her before shrugging. Ashlyn smiled. “You’ll have fun. I promise. And I promise it won’t get too crazy.”

Three shots in, Ashlyn still wasn’t feeling ready for a good time. Whit still hadn’t finished her first drink, and their other friends — mostly teammates — were a collective spectrum from sober to piss drunk. Leaning against the bar with Whit on her right and Tobin to her left, her mind was still going a mile a minute, thinking about the girl who she might’ve called her girlfriend, had things happened differently.

“To the Blues,” Tobin announced as she raised another shot. The bartender slid shots down to Ashlyn and Whitney.

“To the Blues!” they echoed, and Ashlyn eagerly knocked back the shot, loving the way it burned her throat. It was the type of pain that distracted from other hurts — the ones that couldn’t be fixed by any physical means. Another shot in, and she began to forget.

Another couple drinks, and she convinced herself that there was a physical method of healing those sorts of hurts as she pushed her almost-girlfriend up against her door without a care for Whitney or their other suite mates.

Luckily there wasn’t much strain as the two broke things off, parting with an extensive study of each others’ bodies, the whole thing sealed with a kiss on the forehead as Ashlyn walked out of her room and out of her life forever.

Meanwhile, only one of the three who traveled from Chapel Hill to Los Angeles was getting any playing time. Ashlyn and Whit grew to know the bench very well.

“How are we supposed to get any better for the professional league if we’re vegetating on the bench like this?” Ashlyn muttered one game.

“Practice,” Whit replied with a shrug. Ashlyn wasn’t having it, though. She shook her leg as she sat there, arms crossed like a petulant child. She watched the action in front of her, trying not to feel extremely hateful towards the starting keeper. Whitney, meanwhile, was cheering on Tobin, who had just been subbed in, like a reasonable person.

“I’m a damn good keeper,” Ashlyn said.

“I believe you,” Whitney replied distractedly.

It was a bad day when the doubt crept in as she looked again at a starting line up that was devoid of her name. Like an itch in the back of her mind, the shot she had failed to save in training the previous day came back to her. Some days, she wondered if it was personal. Whit never failed to keep her from descending further into that darker place. She kept an eye on her.

At the end of the season, neither of them had a cap to their name. Ashlyn attended National Team camp, but then seemed to fall out of favor again. The next season, they were in different cities — Ashlyn in St. Louis and Whitney in Chicago. And the cycle started again, this time with a girl named Nikki Cross in Whitney’s place.

“So what do you do?” The brunette looked up at Ashlyn from beneath long, fluttering lashes. Ashlyn grinned to herself and leaned in closer, thankful she had worn that shirt that made her biceps look extra good.

“I play soccer professionally,” she said. She didn’t mention that she still hadn’t gotten to play. This was one of the few dates she’d consented to go on and she wanted to impress her. “I’m a goalkeeper.”

“Wow,” the girl said, her eyes brightening. “So you’re, like, the next Hope Solo or something?” The grin slipped from Ashlyn’s face and she looked down at the drink she’d been cradling in her hand.

“We’re completely different,” Ashlyn said, clearing her throat as she heard how sharp her voice had sounded.

She decided dating wasn’t something she was interested in.

Ashlyn finished up with St. Louis without a cap as well, and made the journey this time to Washington D.C.

“You the new keeper?” Ashlyn had been approached by Abby Wambach on her first day of training. She nodded in return and they shook hands. “I’ll show you the ropes around here,” Abby said. “Obviously not for anything goalkeeper-related, but for everything else, I’m happy to help.”

It was the best day when Ashlyn was finally, finally called into camp with the National Team again. It was last minute, but Ashlyn was too excited to care. Unfortunately, Hope Solo is unable to attend due to a shoulder injury and we would like to have another goalkeeper in camp, Paul had said over the phone. Ashlyn had of course said yes and got off the phone to hurriedly pack her things. Her flight to Georgia the next day was already booked and her ticket verification was waiting in her email.

“Long time, no see,” Ashlyn said as she greeted Whitney in the hotel. Whitney gave her a tight hug and helped Ashlyn bring in her bags. “Getting into any trouble without me?” Ashlyn asked, trying to keep a straight face and failing gloriously.

“Who do you think I am?” Whitney joked.

Ashlyn let out a happy breath as they went up the the floor the team was all being housed on. As usual, US Soccer had commandeered all the rooms available in that section of the hotel, leaving a couple adjoining suites open for team meetings, games, movies, and just general relaxation.

“I pulled some strings with Pia to let us room together,” Whitney admitted. “She wasn’t convinced at first, but I laid on that good girl charm — told her I could get you to behave — and she eventually caved.”

“You’re the best, Whit,” Ashlyn said, wrapping Whitney in a strong, one-armed hug. Then she paused. “Wait a second…Whit, what did you tell Pia about me?” Whitney ducked out of Ashlyn’s grip and walked faster down the hallway.

The next day, Ashlyn headed out to the field with the rest of the players, ready to practice and show her stuff. She knew that first impressions were everything and this would be a key camp for her if she wanted to stay in the running for the goalkeeper position on the senior team.

She and the other keepers — Barnie, Jill, and Alyssa — headed out with Paul before everyone else, as was usual for those of that position. Being a keeper meant long hours of both physical and mental exertion, something Ashlyn had always enjoyed. She could put her all into her training and games, forgetting about everything else.

Later in the day, after warm-ups, a talk with Paul, and a few drills, the field players arrived and started their own training — warm-up laps, shuttles, a short work-out, and then some drills — before the two sides combined. Ashlyn grabbed a water bottle from beside the goal and headed over to the lone bench that occupied one sideline. A few other girls congregated there with their bags, drinking water and chatting and stretching.

Ashlyn saw her from across the circle. She had her back propped up against the bench and her legs spread out across the grass in front of her. Her dark brown hair was done up in a bun and her bright brown eyes shone as she laughed with Pinoe and HAO. She had the sort of eyes that showed her laughter, even if she wasn’t outright laughing. And she was gorgeous.

“Hey, you dead yet?” came Whitney’s voice in Ashlyn’s ear, jolting her out of her thoughts. She felt Whitney’s arm come across her chest to grab her in a hug from behind. Laughing, Ashlyn turned.

“Nope,” Ashlyn said. “You know I’m strong and ready to go.” She flexed a little, jokingly, until Whitney rolled her eyes at her and slapped her arm.

Ashlyn didn’t get a chance to talk to the stunning brunette until that night at dinner. She didn’t even get to know her name until then. Dinner was a more relaxed affair because they had a night practice the next day, so groups of players went out to get food from various restaurants in the area, or stayed in and ordered take-out or room service.

“Hey, HAO is having over a few people in her room for dinner,” Whitney told Ashlyn as she poked her head into the communal relaxation room. “You wanna go or do you have other plans?”

Ashlyn shrugged in return. “I’ll go,” she said. “What are we doing for dinner?”

“Room service and maybe some games or something. Pinoe and Lori will probably be there, so who knows what’s going to happen.” Whitney huffed a little at that and Ashlyn knew exactly why. In college, Whitney had always been the studious, responsible one of the pair. Ashlyn had tried her best to loosen her up a bit, but she maintained much of her same personality. Ashlyn had only just met Lori, but the two of them quickly found that they got along fine — mostly because of their penchant for loud, sometimes obnoxious jokes.

“Aw, they’re not bad,” Ashlyn scolded. “They just know how to have a good time.”

“Well the three of you in one room is too much of a good time, in my opinion,” Whitney replied with obvious finality.

As it turned out, Pinoe and Lori were already there by the time Ashlyn came in with Whitney. The Tar Heels in the group greeted each other enthusiastically before Ashlyn said a rowdy hello to Pinoe, which mostly involved the short-haired brunette jumping on her back, cackling all the while.

Ashlyn looked around the room as she lounged out on HAO’s bed with Pinoe. Whitney sat in one of the chairs by the dresser, and HAO was occupying the other bed with the brunette from earlier. Her hair was down in dark waves and she was curled up against the headboard with a pillow on her lap, her eyes looking a bit duller as she quietly watched everyone’s interactions. She still looked just as strangely captivating, though, and Ashlyn blinked hard, trying to get herself to focus on something — anything — else.

“— and so we walked in and there was Tobin, no shoes, wrapped up in a blanket like she was wearing a cape or something, and she’s just walking down the hallway,” HAO said with a laugh. Ashlyn drew herself out of her thoughts of the brunette only in time to hear the end of her story, but whatever that story was, it certainly did sound like Tobin.

“Kriegs and I were like, Tobin, you know you’re in public, right?” Pinoe, Lori, and Whitney laughed along with her and the brunette did the same, albeit quietly. Ashlyn watched her — the way the corners of her lips turned up and her nose got a little crinkle in it.

“Ali, are you okay?” Pinoe asked. And so Ashlyn finally got a name. Ali.

“Super tired,” the girl replied in a mumble that made a smile pull at Ashlyn’s lips. She struggled to keep it in check. “The jet lag is not going away and I don’t know why.”

“Where’d you fly in from?” The question fell from Ashlyn’s lips before she even knew she had said it out loud. She was curious about this Ali and wanted to know more but, as Ali’s gaze landed on her, she wondered if she should’ve kept quiet. She had this look on her face that Ashlyn really couldn’t place.

“I’m Ashlyn Harris, by the way,” she continued, trying to appear her friendliest, least-threatening self.

“Oh, that’s right! You two haven’t met yet!” HAO said. “My bad. Ooh, that’s awkward.” She held out a hand to indicate Ali. “Ashlyn, this is Ali Krieger — resident princess and right back. Ali, this is Ashlyn Harris — fellow Tar Heel and goalkeeper.”

Resident princess. Ashlyn smirked at the descriptor, wondering exactly what it referred to. Was she secretly a diva? Super high-maintenance? Whatever it was, she assumed it didn’t put anyone off from being her friend. HAO seemed to dote on her, and HAO was a good judge of people.

“Hey,” Ali said in greeting. “And, in answer to your question, I flew in from Germany probably…the day before you got here?” Her voice trailed off. “Yeah, I guess that’s right. My times are so off. It’s pretty late at night over there right now.”

“Germany,” Ashlyn repeated, impressed. “What do you do over there?”

Ali laughed a little. “Play football,” she said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I play for FFC Frankfurt in the Bundesliga.”

“Ali’s super pro,” Lori said. “She went over there after college and got on one of the best teams and learned the language and everything.” Ashlyn watched as Ali’s cheeks grew pink. Her eyes shone, though, and she seemed to hold her head a bit higher after that complement.

Ashlyn enjoyed training with the senior National Team for a few reasons. 1) It was a whole new level of play that she was unused to and she loved the challenge. 2) Paul (and Barnie) were showing her how to make better decisions in her goalkeeping so that she didn’t always have to make those grand, acrobatic saves. It was something that she had a hard time grasping, but she knew she’d have to learn this if she was to improve at all. 3) Her teammates were absolutely the greatest. 4) She enjoyed teasing Ali during training.

Ashlyn was intrigued by Ali. She seemed very quiet and reserved until approached with some fashion quandary, which she readily solved, or someone mentioned shopping or Germany, both of which made her perk up like a dog smelling a treat. The most interesting of Ali’s reactions, however, was her laugh. The sound was like joy incarnate, but Ashlyn was most interested in her wide, toothy smile and the way her nose crinkled. Once Ashlyn noticed it for the first time, it was like she became addicted. She needed to see it again and again.

It became a bit of a routine for her. They occasionally crossed paths in the hotel because they had a very similar group of friends (though sometimes Ali would go off with Heather Mitts to do more ‘girly’ things), but they never hung out with just the two of them. Still, Ashlyn wanted badly to get to know her and really become her friend, more than just a teammate. So, as the keepers and the field players came together for small-side scrimmages or other drills, Ashlyn would always give her a bit of a hard time.

“How’s the jet lag doing?” she asked one afternoon. Ali was standing on the sideline along with the rest of their team for the scrimmage. On the field, two others were getting into place. Soon, they would rotate one out.

“Better,” Ali replied with a smile. “I’m just dreading having to go through all of this again when I go back.”

“Well I’m glad,” Ashlyn replied. “I wouldn’t want my defense to fall asleep on me.” Ali’s cheeks reddened as she looked at Ashlyn and Ashlyn realized how that may have sounded. “I mean…” she started.

“You’re fine,” Ali laughed in return.

They rotated in for Abby Wambach’s team and settled into their positions. Ashlyn clapped her gloves together and jumped a couple times to warm herself up. In front of her, Ali and Lep were playing defense. Then she had Lori, A-Rod, and Cheney. They started off as an even match — Ashlyn learned most scrimmages were just like that, a battle between two sides which simply refused to back down.

Ashlyn caught Tobin’s shot in her arms easily and rolled it out to Ali, who dribbled up the right flank to send a ball in to A-Rod in front of the opposing goal. Mittsy managed to win the ball from A-Rod’s dancing feet, though, and her team went on the attack, sending in a shot that curved just out of reach of Ashlyn’s outstretched fingers as she launched herself across the goal.

Tobin, Mittsy, and the others cheered and gave each other high fives as Ashlyn pulled herself up off the grass and dug the ball out of the net. When she turned around, Ali was back in her position.

“So…Do you have jet lag or another excuse?” she asked teasingly, pursing her lips.

“Oh, get out of here,” Ashlyn scowled at her, waving her gloved hand. They grinned a little at each other, and then Ashlyn sent the ball up to Cheney so they could start again.

Ashlyn refused to admit that she was developing a crush. Things like that didn’t really happen to her. She wasn’t a relationship-y type and, even if she was, she knew better than to mix soccer with all of that. It was a recipe for disaster in her opinion — no matter how cute Abby and Sarah were off the pitch. Anyway, it wasn’t a crush. Sure, she thought that Ali was pretty — anyone with eyes could see that — and she appreciated her humor, the way she talked, the way she walked, the way she played on the pitch. Sure, Ashlyn wanted to always spend more time with her, but it was in a friendly way.

Which was exactly why Ashlyn was up late at night trying to think of a good excuse to, in a very friend-type way, ask for Ali’s number. She rolled over and adjusted her covers and the pillow behind her head for what felt like the hundredth time in an hour. Whitney must’ve thought the same because she let out a loud groan and sat up in bed.

“Okay,” she said through the darkness. “You are going to tell me exactly what is bothering you and we are going to talk this out because I cannot deal with you tossing and turning all night.” Ashlyn was thankful that the light wasn’t on because she was fairly sure that she was blushing. She turned to face Whitney.

“Do you think Ali thinks we’re friends — her and me?” Ashlyn asked seriously. She could almost sense Whit rolling her eyes, as was the usual when the two of them were together.

“I guess so,” she replied. “I mean, you two have only been talking with each other non-stop for the past week.” Ashlyn grinned to herself.

As camp had gone on, the two of them had grown closer. Part of it was devised — Ashlyn could always find an excuse to show up in HAO’s room. Part of it was just that they seemed to click really well. Ali was pretty funny; she just wasn’t as out there as HAO or Pinoe were. Even when a joke leaned more towards cheesy, Ashlyn found it insanely cute. They seemed to always be able to talk about something — Ali would tell her stories about Germany, and Ashlyn would in turn share stories about UNC or Florida.

“Yeah, but are we camp friends, or real friends?”

“I think that’s between you and her, really,” Whit replied. “Why are you stressing about this?” Whitney suddenly seemed to jump in her bed. “No, Ash,” she said seriously. “Don’t tell me you have a crush on her.”

“What?” Ashlyn exclaimed in return, raising her hands as if someone had just said ‘Freeze!’. “No way, Whit. Come on.”

“She’s straight and your teammate. That’s like double off limits…She lives on another continent. That’s triple off limits!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Whit,” Ashlyn replied. “You know I don’t do distance and, although I did do straight girls in the past, that is not me anymore.”

The day they were all supposed to leave camp and head back home, Ashlyn did end up getting Ali’s number. In fact, she had it thrust upon her as hers was demanded in return. Ali was quite clear that she wanted them to keep talking.

“Eh, I suppose I could call you now and then,” Ashlyn said with mock trepidation. She grinned as Ali whacked her in the arm. “Alright, alright, we’ll talk. I promise. Skype dates and everything.” Ali flushed bright red at that and looked away. Ashlyn cringed, reminding herself not to joke about them dating ever again.

As Ali’s cab arrived, Ashlyn held out her arms for a hug, but Ali looked at her with mild disdain before giving Ashlyn the lamest hug she’d ever gotten in her entire life. Ashlyn felt herself nearly go into shock from the lack of warmth.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I’m not a hugger,” Ali replied, scrunching her nose with distaste.

“Well obviously,” Ashlyn replied. “We’ll have to work on that whenever you’re back in the states.”

On the short plane ride back to Satellite Beach, Ashlyn let her head fall back against the headrest and a smile creep across her face. She’d had more than a good day; it’d been a good couple weeks.