The moment they arrived at USW's entrance underneath the shelter of their designated umbrellas, Drew led the way across campus to the athletic center. They pocketed their phone as they crossed the park at the center of campus, where the rainy winter atmosphere cast a glossy sheen across the bricks. In the dour weather of Seattle, the sky became a nearly solid sheet of thick, grey clouds overhead. Drew leant forward to glance past the edge of the umbrella. They had another two hours of daylight, but even now it felt like they were on the brink of nightfall.

They glanced back at Rosalie, who seemed all too chipper about the place. Drew supposed it was easy to be brainwashed about the dreary side effects of Seattle when she'd been dreaming about it for years. For Drew, it felt more likely that USW would fall short of all those high hopes, but like Rosalie, they had done their fair share of research. USW wouldn't disappoint, and nor would their scholarships.

A full ride for a Division I school? It wasn't even a question at that point. Drew would take the men or the women's teams, whichever bit first.

At the awning over the athletic complex entrance, Drew closed their umbrella and said, "I'll text you guys later."

"Okay. Tell Coach Heather we say hi," Rosalie said.

"Will do, Captain," they said with a smirk.

They pushed through the doors and walked across the freshly polished tiled flooring. The structure wastage and lined with wide, open windows—not that it mattered, since the natural light that did come in during the winter had to be supplemented with the bright, florescent chandeliers.

Drew followed the instructions from Coach Heather's email up to the second floor. There was an interior balcony that overlooked the entrance atrium, and as Drew circled around it, their eyes lingered on the framed team photos on the wall.

They checked the time as they drew near Coach Heather's office. They had a few minutes still, so they studied the pictures on the wall and listened as one of the girls from the team opened the entrance door and said something along the lines of, "Joanna and Rosalie, I'm guessing? Come on in!"

Drew leant out from the hallway to peer past the glass railing on the balcony. The girl looked spritely, eager, and Nigerian. Drew recognized her from the team roster, even this far away, and spent a little too long watching the exchange between the Huskies' team captain and the Knights' captain.

"Drew?"

Drew straightened and turned back around. Just down the hall, Coach Heather was leaning out of an open office door. She was wearing a high-collared white athletic jacket, which only emphasized her tanned skin and bright eyes. Coach Heather tipped her head to the side with a smile and gestured for Drew to come over.

"Come on, come in. You're right on time," she said. "How was your flight?"

Drew cleared their throat before saying, "It was fine, yeah. We just got in three hours ago."

Coach Heather put a hand on Drew's back as they entered the office, guiding them along. The office was narrow with an unreasonably tall ceiling. Drew glanced up to the ventilation system visible high over their heads, painted white to fit the color of the walls. The wall opposite that of the door was almost entirely comprised of windows to the indoor arena space. They could hear the sound of the girls down below juggling soccer balls through obstacles to the beat of their voices chanting what sounded like a Husky drill.

Drew crossed their arms as they watched through the window. Coach Heather closed the door behind her before she came to join Drew at the window. Next to the Coach's desk was an old, ratty couch likely dragged in from some college kid's apartment. The threads were showing in patches, and Drew wondered just how many soccer girls came to Coach Heather's office just to hang out on that couch.

Coach Heather took a seat on the couch armrest and said, "I imagine you know why I asked you to meet me before your tour."

"Yeah," Drew said, quieter than they intended. They glanced away from the practice drills to meet Coach Heather's eyes. They didn't like the pity they saw there. "Out with it, then."

"I'd like to fight for your position on the girls team."

Drew blinked. They put a hand up to rub at their ear, as if they had heard it wrong, and said, "Excuse me?"

Coach Heather clasped her hands together on her lap and said, "I'm saying that I am in a position where I can get the board to waive the NCAA guidelines that prohibit men from participating in female sports even if they're on androgen blockers."

Drew scoffed a little to mask the shock that turned their knees to jelly. They tipped to the side and dropped back onto the couch, shaking their head. "In what world would you be able to do that? No offense to your superior credentials, Co-Coach Heather."

Coach Heather smiled down at them. "If you accept my terms, I'd be willing to make that world possible for you."

"What terms?"

"You'll have to start E," she said.

Drew laughed again. They put an elbow on the armrest and put their hand to their temple, shaking their head. "You're crazy," they said, but if they really thought that, they would have just gotten up and left then and there.

The only reason they weren't on estrogen was for one very simple fact, and that was the price. Testosterone blockers were enough for satisfying results. Drew's sex was effectively smudged to a clean slate with them, and they were fine with that. More than fine, really, because even before the androgen blockers, they were softer on the edges than most of the guys in their class. The blockers were just an extra nudge in the right direction.

Estrogen, though? That was a fantasy.

"It will be covered by your student insurance bundle if you sign up for it," Coach Heather said.

"Yeah right. I read up on that—it never said anything about hormone treatment," they said.

"It will if you agree to my other terms," she said. Drew stared at her as she went on without a pause. They couldn't look away, not when she was selling such a desirable product. "USW has a local organizational unit I think you'd fit in nicely with. It's supervised and governed at an international level—it's why we have so many international students on our team, and why you get so much financial help for coming from a military family. You can think of it as a sorority funded by alums of USW."

Drew shifted uncomfortably. "If it's a sorority, what's the jurisdiction structure like?"

They heard stories about sororities before—horror stories, specifically. They knew just based on their own decorum that their lifestyle wouldn't sit well with whatever bitch held the high ground in the sorority.

"You'll be responsible for your own individual conduct," Coach Heather reassured. "Anything that is expected of you as a university athlete also falls into the requirements for candidacy. If you agree, you'll continue to receive support from the girls in our Family. We protect one another, and that includes your emotional and physical wellbeing."

That includes prescription drugs. It went unspoken.

Drew nodded. "Alright, fine. Let's say I agree."

"I can't tell you any more than this unless you're certain," she said, shaking her head. "If you'd rather not continue—"

Drew put a hand out and said, "Oh, don't get me wrong. Count me in."

A bright, doting smile spread across Coach Heather's face, brightening her eyes to an almost blinding degree. She put a hand out to Drew, which Drew took and gave a firm shake. "Then I welcome you to the Huskies' Sisterhood, Drew Mendoza."

***

"Joanna and Rosalie, I'm guessing?" a girl said from the complex entrance. Rosalie turned at the sound of her name, her eyes widening at the sight of one familiar Husky holding the door open for them. "Come on in!"

Rosalie couldn't help but stare. She'd seen this girl in interviews, on the field—hell, she even added her on every form of social media the girl had.

Charlie Dominic was otherwise known as the glue of the girls team. She was co-captain and, next year, would likely be the lead team captain. She was a three-year, three-time Division Champion. As a junior, she already had recruiters from national leagues calling dibs.

Her smile was bright as she ushered them all inside, shaking their hands as they went. She made a point of introducing herself to Joanna before stopping at Rosalie with a wink and saying, "I follow you on Instagram. I saw your post about State—I hope your leg is feeling better."

As if Rosalie's smile couldn't get any wider. "It's fine now, thanks," she squeaked.

Charlie Dominic was part of the Husky's public face and therefore, looked and acted like a star personality. She had a dark, glowing complexion and tightly braided hair woven into a high, thick ponytail that fell to her upper back. When she smiled, she showed off every brilliantly white tooth as she said, "You must be Joanna's parent. Nice to meet you."

"Just call me the Lieutenant," the Lieutenant said, shaking her hand.

"Lieutenant it is, then," she said. "Just call me Dominic then. The girls all call me that or Nic, so take your pick."

She moved on to Lennie, who shook her hand and said, "Lennie Pittmen. I'm just tagging along until my meeting with the men's coach later."

"Sounds excellent to me. Well, it's so nice to meet you all in person! I've heard so much about you two," she said, dark eyes sweeping over to where Rosalie was all but vibrating next to Joanna, who scowled as she had every day that week. Dominic started across the atrium as she went on and said, "I might as well say that Coach is thrilled that you're both accepted here. You can't imagine it. And with your grades, you'll do excellent here at USW. Have you given any thoughts to your majors?"

Dominic took them down the hall lined on one side by windows to the campus and on the other with windows to the arena. They talked as they walked through the girls' locker room—Lennie excluded—and exited the other side. They met with Lennie once more on the second floor where Dominic turned them down a hallway with locked door on the other side.

Dominic held up a keycard for them to see before swiping it on the door panel. The red light strip turned green. "Every student has a keycard that gets them into all of the facilities. They're also specific to your dorms, and since you're all athletes here, you'll only have access to the athletic residential housing—if you plan on visiting friends in other dorms, they'd have to let you in. Same goes if they visit the athletic housing."

"Athletes get their own dorm building?" Joanna said, sounding more annoyed than impressed.

"Residential housing," Dominic corrected.

Joanna rolled her eyes and prompted, "The difference?"

"They're apartments," Lennie said.

Dominic snapped her finger and gave him a finger gun. "Bingo. Each apartment has two rooms, and each room is shared, so every apartment houses four girls. They're also connected to the indoor arena through the skyways, so you won't have to go outside aside from classes when the weather isn't friendly. But other than that, next summer we'll be on the outdoor fields for summer training."

Joanna let out a low, impressed whistle that became sarcastic as soon as Rosalie caught sight of her indifferent expression. Rosalie frowned at her as Joanna said, "Where do you get the money for apartments?"

Dominic didn't seem bothered by the obvious attitude. When Dominic wasn't looking, Rosalie gave Joanna a little shove in the arm. Joanna shoved her back, and when Rosalie pushed her again, Joanna grabbed her by the hand. Dominic turned back to them and Joanna put herself flat against Rosalie's side, hiding their joined hands behind them. Off to the side, Lennie gave them a flat look that said they were being unprofessional.

Rosalie looked to the ground, heat flaring up her arm as Dominic explained:

"We have several brand deals and alumni sponsors. Armory is a big contributor to the facilities—we have the Armory Stadium and Armory Arena, the athletic complex we were just in. All of our jerseys are manufactured by them, too."

They walked the length of the resident hall corridor as Dominic explained how housing worked and, for Lennie's sake, where the boys' apartments were. The building mixed the two, but the individual units were separated by gender. The boys team generally had the first two floors to themselves while the girls claimed the second two floors.

They arrived outside of Dominic's apartment where she scanned her keycard and pushed inside.

The apartment was simple and plain, if not small. Rosalie didn't expect anything grand, but the idea of simply living in a space on her own with a kitchen at her disposal was thrilling. When the five of them filed in, they filled up the space nicely and it made for a quick sweep of the initial living space—the kitchen and the connected living room. The living room fanned off into two bedrooms, each of which had their own restrooms.

Dominic had her room bunked, which left one wall open for two desks. Rosalie peered out through the window at the building across the brick walkway. When she turned around, she found Joanna standing directly next to her, her ponytail pulled over one shoulder. When Rosalie looked at her, Joanna gave her a weird face and turned away.

"You're ridiculous," Rosalie whispered, nudging her in the back as they left the bedroom.

"You're ridiculous. Have you seen this place? It's the lap of luxury," Joanna said, eyes scanning the living room. The Lieutenant was lounging on Dominic's couch as Joanna came in and said, "As if any of this is free."

"With your scholarships it should be," Dominic said.

"Nothing like this is 'free'," Joanna insisted, gesturing to the apartment.

"You're right," she said. "You have to pay for groceries."

Joanna scowled at her. Dominic offered a wide, teasing smile.

Lennie emerged from the opposite room and held up his phone screen where the clock ticked closer to three in the afternoon. "I have to get going. I'll text you guys later or meet you at the hotel."

Rosalie agreed to it. Lennie saluted the Lieutenant, who waved as Lennie left and shut the door behind him. Dominic tipped her head to the side and asked, "I have to say, I'm impressed with this year's recruits from Maryland, but I wasn't expecting so many from Montgomery."

"Where else did you guys recruit from?" Rosalie asked.

"Minnesota, mostly. We had one recruit from Colorado, though," she said.

"Gross, snow," Joanna said.

"You literally live on the East Coast," Rosalie retorted. Joanna stared dully at her with her lidded eyes, and Rosalie wrinkled up her nose in reply.

Dominic chuckled a little, her hip leant up against the countertop. "I take it you two won't be roommates, then."

Rosalie hadn't considered it, even after Dominic mentioned the fact that every room was shared. She swallowed hard, eyes wide, and somehow Joanna managed to speak first. "How do roommates work."

"When you get your residency forms, you're able to suggest a pairing. Otherwise it's randomized between girls on the team," she said. "I randomize each year, but many of the upperclassmen have pairings they prefer. I usually end up with the freshmen, then."

Rosalie glanced at Joanna, but her gaze felt too heavy to keep up. Eventually, her eyes dropped to her feet, unable to meet Joanna's eyes. She could feel the heat in the pit of her stomach that reminded her of one simple fact: That Joanna had been living in her house this entire past week. They were practically housemates as it was—what difference would being roommates do?

She wondered if Joanna was thinking about it, too, when they left the residence hall and followed Dominic back to the Armory Arena. She could still remember the texture of Joanna's hand on her's just less than half an hour before—rougher than her own from the keeper gloves, but still soft enough to send Rosalie's heart pounding in her chest.

She glanced at Joanna's profile. Joanna was looking at anything but their little tour group, intent on keeping her eyes off of Dominic, and insistent on avoiding Rosalie's stare. Eventually, though, she couldn't avoid it. By that point, the tour came to a close at the university bookstore.

"I know Coach wanted to see you two, but that isn't for another hour. Feel free to roam until then, grab some USW gear while you can," Dominic said with a brilliant smile reminiscent of all of the USW advertising Rosalie saw in the past. Charlie Dominic was the perfect face for those campaigns.

Dominic left after shaking their hands once more. When she was gone, Rosalie turned back to Joanna with an eager smile, shaking from head to toe with vibrant energy.

Rosalie bounded up to one of the clothing stands, ponytail swishing, and said, "This is so cool! We get our own apartments!"

Joanna furrowed her brow and said, "Your excitement sickens me."

"You're just saying that," Rosalie insisted, smiling despite the bland look Joanna was giving her. She didn't doubt Joanna was unimpressed—or if she was impressed, she was annoyed by it at the very least, if not infuriated by it. Still, it didn't change how unrivaled USW was. They couldn't have asked for a better team or a better campus.

***

Joanna took to sitting near the dressing rooms in the Goodwill near the campus. Rosalie passed her as she walked swiftly across the tiles, chasing after the trail of clothes Drew was carting across the warehouse. The ceilings were high and lined with fluorescent strips that flushed the color out of everything. By now, it was dark out, and they had all had their fair share of food at the dinner purchased by Rosalie's mom's money.

Rosalie folded a pair of jeans over her arm before frantically catching another pair that Drew tossed at her over the rack. "I don't really fit in jeans," Rosalie confessed, looking down at her legs. They were curvy with dense muscles, but since she wasn't exactly flexing, they appeared more or less chubby.

Drew tossed her another pair of pants. They were soft slacks made of thick, multicolored material that was rolled up at the hem. Drew leant over the rack and said, "That's why we're in the men's section."

Rosalie put her pile of clothes down at her hips and glared dully at Drew. "I've never shopped in the men's section," Rosalie muttered. She marched a few steps down, frowning at the abundance of flannels on her left. "Nor did I even intend to."

Drew scoffed as they crossed paths with Lennie, who was sifting through the rack of shirts one-by-one. "You don't have to shop by gender in thrift stores. Everything is up for grabs and no one gives a shit," they said.

"I've never shopped in the women's section before," Lennie said, not looking up.

"That's because you wouldn't fit in any of them," Drew countered. "And I can't picture you wearing sweaters unless it's for Christmas dinner."

"Guilty," Lennie sighed. He glanced over at Rosalie, who watched the exchange with a hint of curiosity. When Lennie looked away, Rosalie turned to Drew, who was smirking as they unearthed a pair of