There were only a few things that Alex didn't like. 

One of those things was the fact that she was late to everything. Especially the first game of the soccer season. The glare resting on Carli Lloyd's serious face was enough to give her nightmares for another decade. Luckily, Allie looked a little lighter. The women greeted her at the edge of the field. 

"Morgan, you're late," Carli stated blandly, her hands digging into her hips in an attempt to control the anger steaming off of her body towards the younger woman. Allie gave her a grim smile, turning Carli's attention back to the field. 

Alex nodded, bending down and tying her cleats in a hurry. She ended up knotting them even more and snarled a "Fuck it," under her breath while stuffing the laces inside the shoes. The team was already lined up in a circle, counting to ten as they stretched prior to the start of the match. Alex knew she wasn't starting, that was the rule. If you were late, you were benched. 

The second thing that Alex didn't like was her temper. Only five minutes into the game, Alex groaned from the bench as the University of Chicago shot another perfect ball spiraling towards the net. Thank goodness for Hope, Alex thought, as she watched the keeper pop yet another ball over the crossbar.  

Coach Sonnett motioned for Alex as well as two of the newbies, Ashley Spreng and Savy Mason to come over to the sideline. Soon enough, Alex subbed in for freshman Mallory Pugh, Ashley for Tobin and Savy Mason for Allie. "Let's do this!" Alex shouted, receiving a hug from Mal as she sprinted onto the field. Her feet were twitching with anticipation. 

There was no doubt about it that Hope was the MVP of the match. She securely blocked every ball that was kicked her way and by halftime, the score was zero to zero and the brunette was covered in a combination of mud and sweat. Coach gave them a grim nod as the girls limped off the field. They were fighting a losing battle.

On the sideline, Carli glared with such ferocity that even her girlfriend scooted an inch or so away from her on the bench. Alex glugged a bottle of water and wiped a layer of sweat from her forehead.

"Girls," Coach Sonnett commanded, taking a deep breath and waiting for them all to settle down. "This is my first year coaching at NYU. An- And I must say I've never coached such a difficult team. You guys were horrible out there. I expect much better from each and every one of you, or you should expect to be kicked off the team."

-

Carli collapsed on the bed opposite the lump of Steph and groaned. Loudly. Hope, who closed her eyes against her girlfriend's limp figure, shortly followed her. Carli swung a lazy arm around the woman and closed her brown eyes until a heavy sleep followed moments later.

Hope stayed awake, listening to the unsteady breaths of her partner. The room was quiet and gloomy, exactly how Hope felt as she moved closer to Carli. She smelled like strawberries, Hope thought, like strawberries on a sunny day in southern California. Hope had never been to paradise, but Carli's tan lines and smell of beachy fruit was exactly how she pictured it.

The scent made her feel dizzy as she closed her eyes, pressing herself into Carli's warm body. The other woman didn't stir except for an intake of breath that hitched in her throat. A violent cough escaped Carli and Hope's eyes opened, only to see a slight tremor threatening to increase in her fingers. Sweat beads appeared on the midfielder's forehead, like they had been only an hour earlier when the women had lost the first game of the season.

"Carli?" Hope muttered softly, dragging her pale fingers down the lady's exposed tan arm. Again, the Jersey girl didn't wale and Hope could her heart rate pick up as Carli started to full-on shake.

"Carli?" Hope repeated, her voice cracking with worry. "Carli, please wake up!"

-

In the room Tobin shared with Ashlyn Harris, the backup goalkeeper, there was a butt load amount of tension. Ashlyn was laying on her bed still in her uniform with a solemn expression as Tobin repeated in a monotone voice, "It could be worse."

She was glued to her phone, continuously texting her girlfriend, Christen, with the game results. Whatever she did, the athlete refused to respond. Tobin could picture it; Christen with her iPhone in her hand and a laugh on her face as she drank a glass of wine with her new teammates. She could picture Christen's expression as she read the messages, before closing her phone and turning back to her friends as if nothing was wrong.

Everything was wrong.