All I Really Want
Shauna sat hunched in her dorm room, her laptop casting a soft glow against her face. She had one tab open, but it wasn’t her homework. She had long since forgotten the assigned readings for the night. Instead, she was scrolling through Instagram—again. The account she couldn’t pull her eyes away from. Jackie Taylor.
Shauna’s finger hovered over the screen, swiping through picture after picture, each one more perfect than the last. In every shot, Jackie was surrounded by friends, her blonde hair catching the light like she was a goddess cast in gold. There she was at the football field, laughing with her teammates, wearing that damn letterman jacket that Shauna found herself staring at too often. Then, in another picture, Jackie was at a party, glowing with a drink in her hand, her friends all clustered around her like she was the sun.
Shauna’s stomach twisted as she lingered on a close-up of Jackie in a bikini at some beach, her smile so bright it almost hurt. Shauna could feel the heat in her cheeks, her breath shallow as she couldn’t help but zoom in on the way Jackie’s skin caught the sunlight, the confidence radiating off of her like it was the air she breathed.
Shauna exhaled a shaky breath, scrolling to another post. This time, it was a video. Jackie was at some party, teasing someone off-camera with that sharp, playful laugh that Shauna had grown to crave. She could hear the sound of it now, echoing in her mind as though it was still ringing from the speakers in that video. Shauna felt herself lean in, watching closely, wishing she could be there with Jackie, just once, not on the outside looking in.
She wasn’t like Jackie. She wasn’t the kind of person who could walk into a room and instantly command attention. She wasn’t the kind of person who wore bright colors or had the kind of effortless charisma that could pull people in.
But in the privacy of her dorm room, she could imagine it. She could imagine what it would be like if Jackie noticed her. If Jackie stopped looking past her, if she turned her attention on Shauna for just a moment. Shauna’s heart pounded as she paused on one of Jackie’s stories, where she was laughing in the hallway with a couple of friends. She was so... alive, so everything. Shauna felt like she was drowning in it, like she couldn’t breathe until she finally pulled away, but she couldn’t stop herself. She never could.
Jackie wasn’t just another student . She was the captain of the women’s soccer team, and everyone who watched her play knew she had something special. Shauna had seen it a few times now—the way Jackie led the team with a mix of power and grace, her presence both magnetic and effortless. She was the kind of athlete who could have gone anywhere, who had D1 offers on the table, but instead, she’d chosen to come here, to D3.
Shauna had always wondered why. Why choose this school, why turn down the bright lights of D1 to play at a smaller school? Jackie could have been at a top-tier program, on national TV, with scouts at every game. But she chose these girls, chose this team, this team that was certainly not winning any championships anytime soon.
What makes her choose this? Shauna thought. What makes her different from everyone else?
She’d never spoken to Jackie. Not once. They were strangers—Jackie, the sophomore (God, the only sophomore in program history) captain, and Shauna, the borderline obsessive freshman who had watched from the sidelines (She was technically on assignment with the school paper) . But there was something magnetic about Jackie. Something that made Shauna want to know her, even though the gap between them felt insurmountable.
Shauna pulled her phone from her bag, her hands a little unsteady as she unlocked it. She knew it was stupid—Jackie would never reply to her—but still, she found herself typing.
Hey, I know you’re probably busy, but I had a quick question about your decision to go D3 instead of D1. She paused, rereading it. It wasn’t too forward, right? It wasn’t anything personal. Just a question about soccer. About Jackie’s choice.
Her thumb hovered over the screen. You’re being ridiculous, she told herself. She’ll never reply. You’re just another person who admires her from a distance.
But despite the doubts swirling in her mind, she hit "send."
She waited. A minute passed. Then two. Shauna’s stomach twisted in knots, unsure if she had made the biggest mistake of the night.
Then her phone buzzed.
Shauna’s eyes snapped to the notification. It was a message from Jackie.
"Hey! Thanks for reaching out. I get that question a lot, actually. Honestly, D1 wasn’t the right fit for me. I had offers, but I just knew the culture wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted something where I could really connect with my teammates, where the bond off the field mattered as much as what happened on it. D3 gives me that."
Shauna sat frozen for a moment, reading the message over and over again. Jackie Taylor—the Jackie Taylor—was talking to her.
Her fingers tingled with excitement. It felt too good to be true. Maybe I can keep this conversation going, she thought, heart pounding. She typed another message, her hands trembling as she asked, "Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if you’d gone D1? Like, what could you have accomplished?"
The reply came quickly this time.
"No, not really. At the end of the day, soccer’s about more than just competition. It’s about the connections, the people you’re surrounded by. I’ve done a lot, and I’m proud of where I am."
Shauna’s heart skipped a beat as she read Jackie’s words. She wasn’t just talking about soccer. She was talking about something deeper, something more personal. Shauna could feel Jackie’s sincerity through the screen, the way she valued connection and relationships over accolades.
Shauna didn’t know how to explain it, but those words made her feel something. Something she didn’t have the words for, but something she couldn’t ignore.
Her fingers hovered over the screen again. She could feel herself getting bolder, her thoughts tumbling out faster than she could control.
She typed: It must be so nice to have that kind of clarity about what matters.
There was a long pause. A part of Shauna thought maybe she had crossed a line, maybe that was too much. But then, the message came through.
"It took me a while to figure it out," Jackie replied. "But yeah, once you figure out what really matters to you, it’s like everything falls into place."
Shauna sat back in her chair, staring at the screen. Something about Jackie’s words hit her harder than she expected. It wasn’t just about soccer. It was about life—the way Jackie had chosen a path that aligned with who she was, the way she had the confidence to turn down D1 offers because she knew what was important.
Jackie had turned down the spotlight, turned down the fame, all for something deeper, something more real. It was that authenticity that made Jackie so magnetic—so different from anyone Shauna had ever met.
Shauna’s pulse raced as she typed one last message: I think that’s really cool. I admire you.
She hit send, feeling the weight of her words. It was bold. It was honest. It was something she’d never say to anyone else, but she couldn’t hold back now.
The reply came after a beat, and it was short but enough to send Shauna’s heart into overdrive.
"Thanks, that means a lot."
The conversation ended there. But Shauna wasn’t disappointed. She wasn’t even sad. She felt... connected. For the first time, she felt like she’d reached out and touched something real—something Jackie had let her see, even if it was just for a moment.
Shauna opened Instagram again, as she always did, searching for Jackie’s account. She scrolled through the photos, the stories—each one a window into Jackie’s world. And even though Jackie was a star, the captain, the one who could have had it all, Shauna felt like, for a brief moment, she had seen something she didn’t expect: someone real.
She wasn’t just looking at Jackie anymore. She wasn’t just admiring from a distance. Jackie had become a person, not just an icon.
Shauna smiled to herself as she closed the app. She hadn’t expected this—this conversation, this small connection—but it was a reminder that sometimes, the biggest risks led to the most unexpected places.
And maybe, just maybe, this was only the beginning.