(AZ POV)

The cool evening air nipped at my skin and filled my lungs with the kind of sting that made me feel alive. My face relaxed into a soft, content smile as I dug my cleats into the lush green grass. The soccer field was the one place where all my troubles could just melt away. When the whistle blew and the game started, life just seemed to stop.

I stood a good 20 yards above the halfway line with my hands on my hips, glancing at our goal. Callie had an intense stare fixed on the German midfielder who was blazing past Sydney on the right side of the pitch. My stomach felt a little uneasy, as if it was twisting itself into a bundle of unsettling knots.

I shifted my gaze to the crowd in a vain attempt to think about anything but the confusing reality that was Callie and my 'relationship' or whatever the hell it was. Scanning the fans in the bleachers, my eyes focused on one face I'd know anywhere. What on earth is he doing here?

Instead of racing ahead in a panicked frenzy, my mind remained frozen in place for a moment. Because what were you supposed to do when the mess you wanted to escape, to avoid confronting at all costs, had gone and followed you into your sanctuary? I blinked rapidly while my thoughts began to reel backwards as if my mind were a rewinding cassette tape.

"My 90 year old grandmother can juggle a ball on the run faster than you!" my soccer trainer, Heinz, bellowed in a thick German accent. The other soccer players were guiding their soccer balls through the air before rocketing them into the back of the net.

My wide sixth-grader eyes gawked at Timmy and the other high school players that were ahead of me in line. My toes started to fidget a little inside my boots. I felt like a tricycle wobbling around in a Harley Davidson parking lot. The other kids coaxed the balls effortlessly through the air; my jaw nearly dropped as I peered at their practiced precision.

In the back of the line I quietly tried to mirror their perfected technique. My ball fluttered in the air then crashed like a fledgling colliding with the ground after yet another attempt at flight. I put my head down, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into my dad's car and leave the training session with some of my dignity intact. He would be so disappointed to hear that I had failed, that I really wasn't good enough.

Self-doubt was an unwelcome houseguest that lingered in the mind, wreaking havoc as it made itself comfortable amongst a person's innermost thoughts. And then, what started out as just a whisper of skepticism suddenly turned into this maelstrom of questions pelted at my psyche, blurring any lines of certainty I'd ever had. "What am I even doing here? Why should I even bother?" the voice in the back of my head asked with a defeated sigh.

My head snapped up as cheers reverberated throughout the stadium. My eyes darted to the left side of the field; Addison was charging down the field with the ball skidding in front of her. I began a run towards the goal as I quickly assessed my surroundings. Only one defender on my back now.

Addie's eyes met mine and it was like our minds connected. I quickly spun off of my defender as she launched the ball into the air.

Oh, it's on now! The ball bounced in front of me and I masterfully directed the ball through the air and wound up for the shot with a wide grin on my face…

Hit or miss, I still have a long way to go till I can match up to Heinz's grandmother. Huh, maybe that's what it's all about… Maybe some things are worth a little bit of elbow grease... Maybe some people are worth the trouble too. Even if they happen to be sort of complicated and as stubborn as hell… and a tiny bit forward but kinda-


(Callie's POV)

The ball sprung up off the ground in front of Arizona, who stretched out her left leg to start juggling it with her thighs. The white uniform shorts clung a bit to her toned legs that were shimmering with sweat a little. Stupid perfect legs. Stupid shorts. Ugh, she just has to look all hot to rub salt in my wounded ego. I snorted at my cranky inner monologue, knowing very well that it was simply the product of my battered pride.

Shaking my petty thoughts away, I found myself focusing on the blonde striker yet again. The only problem was the German player next to her was kind of blocking my view. Hey, not cool! Can't she just move a little to the left or something? I just can't catch a break, can I- Wait! What the fuck does she think she's doing?

The red clad defender who was a good stride behind Arizona shifted her hips sideways and extended her right leg to curl around two of Arizona's unsuspecting ones. The blonde was so engrossed in the ball floating ahead of her to see what was coming...

A sharp yelp resonated throughout the stadium, sending a cold chill up my spine. The small striker was sprawled out around the outside arc of the 18, her face contorting in pain as she gripped her quad like it was her lifeline.

A teammate getting hurt, well, it's never really something you can get used to as a player. Because it doesn't matter what you think about her off the field or if you two even see eye to eye on certain matters, she is a part of your team. It's one of your own lying there on the ground. A sight like this never fails to put a fire in your eyes and a hunger for vengeance simmering deep in the pit of your stomach.

And even though this would never be a familiar feeling, even though I was sure I'd seen this sort of thing happen game after game after game, somehow it was different this time...

This seemingly boundless raw fury pounded through my veins. My usually steady goalkeeper hands began to shake as I fought for a sense of control that was dwindling at a rapid rate. A snarl escaped my lips as I stalked up the field towards the spineless bitch that started it all, that was the cause of the pained expression on my Arizona's face.

Erm, I mean, she's not actually mine… Ugh, stupid- I dismissed what would be a time-consuming combination of flustered backtracking and smacking myself in the forehead. I couldn't just sit around and dwell on a trivial slip of the tongue. Well, a mental slip of the tongue…

The ref sauntered up to the wrongdoer in an almost theatrical fashion. Lifting his hand in a deliberately slow manner, he held the small yellow paper over his head like he thought he had the fate of the world in the clutches of his bony little fingers.

"WHAT?" I screeched, putting my hands down on my hips, set for combat mode.

"Sir, she freaking took her down from behind. That's a red card!" I continued, elongating the 'sir' to properly convey my growing aggravation.

The defender crossed her arms, her lips curling into a slight smirk. She let out a chuckle, breaking the already thin resolve I'd tried to build up. A haze of ire clouded my head causing my mouth to feel the need to unleash some of that anger.

"¿Qué te pasa?¡ Esto no tiene ninguna gracia. El hecho de que ella sea talentosa y tú no seas no te da derecho a hacerlo! Vete a carajo, puta."*

A hand took a gentle but firm grip on my shoulder. No matter how good the intentions might've been, the gesture only managed to spur me on further, if that were even possible. I turned swiftly on my heels to glower at whichever bonehead thought it was a good idea to try to interrupt my rant. My reflection surfaced in a pair of concerned green eyes, showing me the wild expression I held in my own.

"Callie," Addison warned. "Don't. She's not worth it. We don't need two players going off the field from this play."

I let out a low growl in protest, not wanting to admit that the redhead had a point. Getting a red card for verbally thrashing the little fucker would only make things worse.

"Cal, sweetie… Just look at her. She wouldn't want this."

My eyes scanned the arena and came to a sudden halt; the overpowering anger that had set fire to my every nerve evaporated immediately. Arizona was lying down on a stretcher that was being carefully placed on a go-kart. The blonde had her eyes squeezed shut; her nails were still digging into her quad. A grimace remained etched on her face as she wrestled to resist the urge to let out a cry of pain. I shuddered a little, the sight making me feel sick to my stomach.

"It'll be okay. She's tough," Addison whispered reassuringly.

"Yeah," I husked, my voice thick with emotion.

Slowly retreating to my goal line, I rubbed my gloves against my temples in a fight to regain a sense of composure. Lexie stepped onto the field as Arizona's substitute, lining up behind the ball for a free kick just outside of the box. A subsequent blowing of the whistle urged the game forward once again…

XXX

"Thank you and good luck against France next week!"

After giving the interviewer a curt nod, I used all my willpower to keep my legs moving at what would be considered an ordinary walking pace towards the tunnel. I broke out into a sprint as soon as my feet hit the uneven concrete.

I whirled around corners, unable to see the countless puzzled expressions on the faces of those whom I'd passed. I didn't really care if I looked crazy because honestly, the way my stomach felt like it was closing in on itself made me feel a little crazy too.

I just had to see if she was okay. That's all. I'd tell her we could go back to being friends, roommates, whatever. I didn't want to be the one to cause her any more pain than she was already in. I'd settle for anything. Whatever made Arizona happy would be good enough for me.

Wait a second… 'Good enough'? I'm Callie freaking Torres! Those two words have never been a part of my vocabulary. Well, not together at least.

But it was different now. With Arizona, it was always different. My overwhelming need to strive for the best, to go ahead and take what I wanted was irrelevant at the moment. Because all of that would be rendered meaningless with a mere frown on those pouty pink lips.

"Wait, what?"

My eyes widened in recognition of a familiar voice as I skidded to a stop.

"Wel-"

"Okay, okay wait. Hold on!" Arizona cut in quickly before the person could get a word in, clearly disregarding the fact that she did, in fact, just ask a question.

Peeking around the corner, I could only see Arizona's back. With a slight limp, she inched a little closer to her companion, waving her arms with wild gestures as she spoke in a lower tone that I couldn't quite hear. Looking around warily, Arizona shooed the wide shouldered man into the nearby closet and hobbled in after him.

The door slammed shut and I heard a faint pitter-patter of shoes coming from down the hall Arizona was just in. Dropping any earlier pretense of indifference, I stretched my neck out even further to pinpoint the source of the noise. A mysterious figure slipped into the shadows and out of sight. I blinked a couple of times, trying to put together the pieces that only seemed to get more and more jumbled up. Because I mean really, what the fuck just happened?


*What's wrong with you? This isn't funny at all. Just because she's talented and you aren't doesn't mean you go and can hurt her! Go to hell, bitch.