Chapter 23
Teddy
“Let’s all remember what we’re about to do.”
Coach Em didn’t raise her voice; the game day locker room was already tuned into her. The air was thick with anticipation as I glanced around at the jerseys ready on the benches. The navy and white, pristine and proud, ready to represent us.
One of our forwards, Beth, stood with their hands on their hips, breathing slowly, calibrating. The usual noise was missing, but the nerves were tight around us. Every single person in here was aware of the clock ticking, even if they didn’t look at it.
“We’re about to make history,” she said.
“This is the first game Valkyries will play in the league.” Coach Em’s gaze swept the locker room, lingering on each of us.
“No one expects perfection, but they will remember how you show up. For each other. For this team. For every girl who’s watching and thinking maybe. ”
And that was the whole point. I didn’t want to let anyone down.
Myself, my team, or any of the girls watching, wondering if they could be in my shoes one day.
The weight of expectation was heavy, but I bore it on my shoulders, because I wanted to make sure that even one person knew anything was possible.
This was what I trained for. What I chose, every day.
There was a moment of absolute silence as we all absorbed the enormity of what we were about to do. My nerves were primed and ready to pounce on the nearest prey. I was ready for this.
Coach gave us a fifteen-minute warning and left us to our pre-game rituals.
I leaned forward and retied my boots, tugging each lace until everything felt locked in.
“That shit smells so bad,” Delany gagged, eyeing Lola’s hands.
Lola didn’t look up from her pre-game beef jerky. “I have to eat it,” she mumbled through a mouthful.
“Do you, though?” Delany said. “Because I’m pretty sure it’s bad for you.”
“I could hate it, but I’d still have to eat it,” Lola said.
All of us understood that sentiment.
Back when we were a pay-per-play club, every one of us had something we refused to give up. Evie wore the same bright pink undershirt. Delany wouldn’t pull on her game jersey until the very last second. Superstition was part of the job, stitched into us alongside tape and bruises.
But today came with something extra.
“Did you see there’s only, like, five hundred seats left?”
My head snapped around.
Five hundred left. In a stadium that held fifteen thousand. Those stakes felt high in the best way. We knew the media had amped up for this, but this was more than we could ever have hoped for.
I drew in a breath, then another, my chest working harder. I set my hands on my thighs and bowed my head for a second, letting the familiar noise of the room settle around me.
“Cap, you good?” one of the rookies called.
I lifted my head and saw it was Cassie talking. “Yeah,” I said, forcing the air back into an even rhythm. “That’s a fucking lot of people.”
A ripple of laughter moved through the room.
“Guess we’d better give them a show,” Delany said.
“About time,” Lola shot back. “I didn’t shave my legs for nothing.”
I shook my head, smiling, and reached for my phone when it buzzed against the bench.
Natalie
Saw the numbers. You’re about to blow the roof off that place. So proud of you. Go get it. Love you, Teddy xx
Something warm settled in my chest. I typed back a quick Love you and held my phone for a second longer, wondering if I’d get another text message.
I wasn’t doing this for my dad, but it wouldn’t hurt to have some kind of… I don’t know. He was on deployment, I reminded myself; he’s always quieter when he’s away.
Rolling my shoulders back, I stood and clapped my hands once. “Alright,” I said, voice steady now. “Eyes up. This is ours. Hands in. Valkyries on three.”
And just like that, the pit in my stomach loosened enough to run.
***
My jersey clung to my back, the fabric rough where mud had dried into it as I crouched low, eyes locked on the Siren’s carrier.
Their kick had pinned us deep, and the turf was slick beneath my boots.
When Evie scooped it up, she barely had time to brace before their tackle folded her into the ground, the thud echoing through my chest. The ball flashed loose, a glimmer in the churn of boots and bodies, and my muscles fired before I could catch them.
I dropped low, the earth soft beneath my studs, and drove forward.
My shoulders slammed into the chaos, breath tearing at my throat, and my hands clamped down on…
mud, not leather. A Siren forward scooped it instead and pushed it out.
My stomach felt like led, and I knew that particular missed ball would haunt me later.
Lola staggered off in the brief pause, blood glowing from her busted lip she took in the first half, and Mara stormed in fresh, her boots pounding like war drums. She came up alongside me, an iron-steady weight at my flank, anchoring the Valkyries’ line.
“Let’s give ’em the worst ten minutes of their lives,” she said, glancing at me.
My pulse pounded in my ears now. The Sirens pressed in again, their bodies desperate, but each carry we made was more deliberate, each recycle a blade cutting seconds from the clock.
We looked stronger again. Mara stole the ball on a pick and play and took her first hit, the smack of colliding bodies ringing out, and she fell clean, presenting the ball.
I hovered, guarding the breakdown, sweat dripping into my eyes, watching for overreach.
I barked at the line, holding us together.
The ball spun wide, and Evie streaked down the wing, mud spraying from her boots.
I chased in support, heart racing, the roar of the crowd suddenly swelling around us, fueling each move we made.
As she hoofed it into touch, the ball vanished into the stands, and the whistle shrieked.
One minute left of additional time and we could win this.
The Sirens had the ball, but they were rattled, their passes hurried, their runners isolated.
Delany thundered in over the top, driving them backward.
Evie was there in a flash when the ball spilled loose, scooping it up, her voice sharp as she called the play. “Hands!” she barked, and Lola cut across the line, dragging the others with her.
I tracked inside, lungs burning as Evie shaped to kick but held, slipping a pass to Mara on the wing.
Mara darted forward, drew the last Siren, and flicked the ball back inside.
It was chaos—bodies colliding, shouts splitting the air—but there was a gap.
Evie’s eyes met mine for a heartbeat, and then the ball was in my hands.
I drove through, boots tearing at the turf, shoulders braced against the last desperate tackle.
The line rushed up, but I stretched, every muscle screaming, and grounded the ball.
Signaling the end of the game, the whistle blew in succession.
I lay there for a moment, chest heaving, the roar of the crowd washing over me, before Delany hauled me upright, her grin wild, eyes bright. “You beast!” she shouted in my ear, crushing me in a hug.
Hands were everywhere then, on my shoulders, my head, my back. Laughter, cheering, tears.
I looked around at my team, mud-streaked, breathless, powerful, and felt it settle deep in my bones.
We weren’t borrowing this space. We weren’t proving anything anymore.
We had taken it.
And every woman watching knew it was possible now.