a/n: 

Since I've gotten a lot of new readers here (yall KNOW who you are and I appreciate every single one of you. I legitimately have notifications on my phone so I can read all your comments on my commute to class/work) I really really REALLY want to post twice a week.

The University of Washington Seattle resided within the radius of Mount Rainier's view from the horizon. Depending on the clouds, anyone on campus could see it, looming in the distance with its white, snowy peak. It blended into the haze on the horizon, like the buildings among the cherry blossoms across the campus, spreading white petals across the courtyards. At the front of it all, high up on the hill, rests UW Seattle's pride complex, the library used as inspiration for Hogwarts. From the wide, winding stairwells, students could view the courtyard, and the view of Mount Rainier—if the weather allowed it.

Most days, though, it would be cloudy. It would be rainy. But there was nothing that could deter Rosalie's dream of sitting at the North Campus fountain just to study.

It was because of this dream that her heart raced when she found someone waiting on the Knights' sideline bench as they crossed the field with their gear stowed in duffles. Rosalie quickly stuffed her water bottle away as she hurried up to walk alongside Coach Maguire, who looked over at her with one of those rare, motherly smiles that she coupled with a hand on Rosalie's shoulder.

Coach gave her a squeeze before nodding for Rosalie to go on ahead. Rosalie started forward at a jog, smiling as Coach Heather stood up from the bench.

"If it isn't Rosalie Mason," Coach Heather said with a laugh, beaming as Rosalie slowed to a stop a few paces away from her. She was hardly out of breath, her excitement keeping her light.

"How long are you here for?" she asked, unable to contain her smile. With her eyes as wide as they were, it was no wonder Coach Heather laughed again, looking down at her feet before answering.

"Well, that depends. I'd love to stay the full weekend, but I'm hoping to catch the tail end of another tournament a few states over," she said.

She lifted her gaze, tipping her head to the side. Rosalie followed her attention back to where Joanna was being pestered by Brynn, who was demanding a piggy back ride with the biggest damn smile on her face dotted with blue and silver braces. Joanna tipped forward when Brynn slammed into her from behind, and the two of them fell over the sideline paint.

"Oy vey," Rosalie sighed, rubbing her hand over her forehead. Thankfully, though, Coach was already on them, snapping her fingers at Brynn to get off of Joanna, who now refused to get up.

As Joanna sprawled out in starfish formation, Coach Heather whistled low and asked, "Is she always like this?"

"Who, Joanna or Brynn?" Rosalie said, coming to stand beside Heather. She crossed her arms and shrugged. "Brynn Fox is a sophomore. She has the attention span of a peanut most days, so Joanna's sporadic enough to keep her interested. So I'd say so, yeah."

"Now, how long has Joanna been on the team?" Heather asked.

Rosalie pushed back the prick of jealousy in her chest, but it sat itself there and made it difficult to breath until she cleared her throat and said, "Just this year. She started late, after classes started. I thought she mentioned something?"

"Yes, but I was just interested. It sounds like she left Kaiserslautern before the end of the spring term. I just assumed she finished up at Bradshaw," she said. Rosalie shrugged, genuinely at a loss. She recalled what Drew had said in the pool, about Joanna missing a month of school back at Kaiserslautern.

"No. She only just joined the team on the first day of classes," Rosalie said.

"And why is it that you two come as a matching set?" Heather asked. Rosalie looked up to her with a raised eyebrow, and Heather shrugged. "High school friends often fade away at university."

"You and Coach still talk," Rosalie commented, and Heather smiled. "And Joanna and I haven't known each other that long. But she's stubborn, so don't count on convincing her to sway."

"I've done my research on you. I can see why both Spencer and Maguire would vouch for you. On top of being an astute student, your accrued goal count is admirable—from a recording of your match against Adams last year, I'm interested to know the speed of your average pass. Erin McAlister may score the most goals, but it's impressive that McAlister and Hartley are able to volley your passes. I'm not sure you realize the talent there, Rosalie."

Rosalie had no reason to clock the speed of her shots—it wasn't like she had the equipment to do so, anyway. She remembered how freshmen year tryouts went, and how it was decided that, despite Rosalie being quite average at the time, the JV girls couldn't quite catch up to the power behind her passes. She knew just how frustrating it was dealing with girls who couldn't curb their passes, but in the middle of a game, especially one against players like Adams, Rosalie couldn't help but give it her all.

"I guess I'm a bit more forceful against the Lions," she confessed. "It took my entire high school career getting to State because the Lions were our competitors."

"It's excellent, really. Now we can see how you fare against the Lions' competitors," Heather said. By this point, Coach Maguire had turned her attention onto them. As Coach started to walk over, Heather waved and stepped aside from Rosalie. "I'd like to talk to Spencer," she said to Coach.

Rosalie didn't miss the look Coach sent her, as if asking approval. Rosalie, once again, pushed down the prick of jealousy, but it only added guilt to the matter. She and Joanna talked about this, and Rosalie knew that her jealousy was wrong. Coach Heather's interest in Joanna Spencer as a potential candidate for the Seattle Huskies was completely justified.

And, so, Rosalie nodded to Coach.

"No promises that she'll talk," Coach muttered to Heather, who threw her head back and laughed.

"Then I'll just bring Mason with me. Do you have more time before warmups?" Heather asked. Rosalie blinked, startled by the open invitation. She looked down to check the time on her phone.

"Yeah, just a little. Then we both have to get on the field," she said. Heather agreed to work with the time she had.

When Rosalie walked with Heather down the sideline, her teammates watched from where they were packing away their jackets in their duffles. As she passed Juliana and Ray, Juliana reached her hand out discretely for Rosalie to high-five, and Ray offered a thumbs up. Not far from them sat Joanna, lacing up her spiked cleats.

Joanna yanked them tight and lifted her attention to Rosalie as she looped and knotted the dirty white laces. Joanna slid her gaze from Rosalie to Heather, her eyes narrowing. She raised an eyebrow at Rosalie, who nodded encouragingly.

"Nice to see you again," Heather said.

Joanna dropped her foot down and stood up, hands on her hips. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" she said. When she tipped her head to the side, her bright orange ponytail swished.

"A few answers to my questions," she replied. Rosalie crossed her arms and resisted the urge to smile when she saw Joanna's smile twitch, like she was holding back a sneer. "First of all, I didn't get the chance to ask back at your match against Adams. You missed several goals at the start, and I'd like to know why. It was certainly intentional, and I can't recruit temperamental players."

Joanna scoffed and said, "Well, that's easy. Rosalie was benched."

"What does Rosalie have to do with it? I'm guessing the answer is the same as your insistence that you two come as a set."

Rosalie reached up and scratched at her headband. Joanna didn't miss the motion, and when Rosalie met her eyes, Joanna's disinterested half-smile turned into a grin. Rosalie discretely shook her head. Anything personal between them felt... childish when talking to Coach Heather of the Seattle Huskies.

Joanna didn't seem to think the same.

"Rosie and I made a deal, didn't we, Killer?" Joanna said.

"She doesn't need to know about that," Rosalie sighed, and Heather laughed.

"Now I'd quite like to know," the woman said, folding her arms over her chest. She turned to Joanna, who was still grinning deviously at Rosalie.

"If Rosie isn't on the field, I don't play," Joanna said at last, offering Heather a half-shrug. "Simple as that. I don't really have a stake in anything here. If I did, I wouldn't have gotten so many piercings last term. Removing them is a bitch every game."

Rosalie let out a discrete, relieved sigh. As her shoulders slumped, reassured that Heather knew nothing of the specifics of their deal, Heather laughed.

"So have you considered your area of study at Seattle?" Heather asked.

"Not in the slightest," Joanna replied. "Check back with me closer to the application deadline."

"You mean you haven't applied yet?" Rosalie said, startled. Joanna shrugged. "The deadline is coming up—!"

"It's okay," Coach Heather said, waving her hands to clear the air. "If anything, text me if you need help deciding. A lot of our girls are in the same majors and take the same classes so they can help each other through the semesters. It makes it easier with soccer taking up so much of your time."

"Sounds like a cult if you ask me," Joanna huffed.

Heather merely smiled as Rosalie resisted the urge to slap Joanna upside the head. Instead, Heather dismissed the comment with a sweet, "I'll leave my contact information with Maguire. Hopefully I'll see you two after the game."

Rosalie watched Heather walk off, waving her goodbyes until Heather was behind the plexiglass barrier. She then whipped her hand out to smack Joanna in the arm. Joanna gasped, laughing, and whined, "Ow, hey! Gentle, woman—"

"I can't believe you haven't applied yet," she said with a huff. "Unbelievable."

Joanna didn't pretend to be guilty, or all that concerned, so Rosalie moved on to rounding up the girls on the field. By now, the other side of the field was filling up with black and white sweatshirts and hats.

The arena audience began to file in as warmups commenced. They continued to fill as the Knights ran laps around the field, and the smell of popcorn and hot chocolate reached their section on the benches. Among them, closest to the plexiglass, Rosalie became distracted by someone banging their hand against it as she passed down the bench line, water bottle in hand.

She paused mid-sip to look, and gasped out loud. She choked on her water, and sputtered over, coughing, a hand to her chest.

Sami Griffin was there, his face pressed against the plexiglass, and beside him stood none other than Isaiah Thatcher and Tante Bee. Sami waved eagerly at her, as if he hadn't just caused her to momentarily suffocate.

"I didn't realize all of you were coming!" she cried, a tad bit hoarse. She waved her hand in front of her face as she laughed, smiling. "Oh my God, I'm so glad to see you guys here."

"We reserved a room at the hotel across the street," Sami said.

"Is your dad here?" Rosalie said, startled by the implication of one room, especially with Isaiah there.

All three of them shook their heads, mildly horrified at the idea. Rosalie let out a sigh of relief. "Well, that's good I guess. I mean, not that I don't want him here! I'm just glad you guys and Isaiah could come."

"As if I'd pass up a chance to go to a waterpark," Isaiah said, smile lines showing. Sami nudged him in the side, grinning. "We got out of class early to head over here. How was the coach bus?"

"It was fine," Rosalie said with a shrug. "Nothing really happened. Everyone's just pretty stoked to be here. I don't think they'd screw it by starting cat fights, you know?"

"Well, you all deserve to be here. Do you best, okay? I'll be taking videos for Jenn," Tante Bee said, lifting up her camera up for Rosalie to see. It was a DSLR, the same one Sami used for his portrait assignment. They came equipped with a tripod as well, and when Rosalie returned to her team and looked for them in the crowd later, she found them posted up higher in the stands, camera poised to record.

The Griffins' camera would cover everything from kick-off to Rosalie's first shot at the Cougars' goal. It would capture Ray's tousle with the defenders, and the rebound that popped the ball against the top of her head and into the far corner of the goal. Their first two points would be accompanied by a corner kick on the Knights' side of the field, which resulted in a sideline juggle down to centerfield where the Cougars deflected the ball off field. There, Ray fetched the ball, and the Griffins recorded the toss-in that soared far over the heads of the Cougars to where Erin McAlister sprinted, arms pumping, and met the ball with enough speed to volley it to Rosalie.

Rosalie would watch it from her living room floor Sunday night and wonder how she kept her heartbeat steady in the seconds that passed. She would watch herself all but dance around Cougars from centerfield to the penalty box where she passed the ball between the legs of a Cougar and met it around the other side, sliding her foot out to knock it into the goal as the keeper leapt for it. It hit the back net, and a third point ticked onto the scoreboard.

She would replay it over again, stunned that she had managed such a maneuver with Coach Heather in the stands. It was pure luck.

But before she could reflect on the match, the one Heather did see, she had more to worry about for the three point buffer. With a strong start came resentment from the Cougars, and with resentment came rash decisions. Rosalie expected teams at State to be sore losers, and the Cougars were no different.

The Cougars didn't touch Joanna's penalty box until just before halftime. When they did, it was with a vengeance that was immediately crushed by Joanna jumping to meet it. She smacked the ball aside like she was swatting a fly, and she landed as if she had done nothing more than a casual leprechaun jump in the middle of the street.

Alyssa received the pass from Joanna. The Cougars weren't deterred yet, but when they intercepted Alyssa's pass to Rosalie, they were another second away from attempting a score. Rosalie cut her foot between the Cougar's cleats and the ball, nudging it away. She put her shoulder against them, but another player was on her, slamming the ball into her shin.

The ball popped up, freeing it from the cluster, and it was then caught on the knee of a Cougar, where it ricochetted into the goal where Joanna, once again, slapped it aside, not bothering to catch it. In the next instant, a Cougar hit the rebound, and Joanna struck it with her knee, bounding it between a Cougar's head and Alyssa, who shouted, "Hey, watch it!"

Rosalie threw her arms up at Joanna as she backed away from the goal. Joanna pushed back a strand of her ginger curls and smiled, forever amused by Rosalie's disapproval. Rosalie gave in to the fact that this game would be nothing more than that for Joanna—a game.