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The stopwatch made its click-click-click sound as Atlanta tried to time the splits as the team sped past.
"One more lap girls, let's push it!" Atlanta yelled. The pack soared past Atlanta; they were a bunch of fit, athletic, tanned young women heaving for breath, ponytails swishing as they plodded past. Atlanta looked for the familiar dyed blue hair, but couldn't spot her among the pack - turning to her right, Atlanta saw her. The lone blue-haired runner, panting as she staggered along at least 50 metres behind. Atlanta's gaze was sharp, watching the athlete for her limp. And there it was: Maya was favouring her right leg again.
"Maya, cut it there." Atlanta instructed firmly as the blue haired girl huffed towards the finish line.
"No, I can finish it, I can catch them…"
"Not happening. You're limping again." Atlanta said firmly, shaking her head. The girl sighed, and walked off the track. As she did so, her limp became even more pronounced. It was as Atlanta suspected: Maya had been hiding just how bad the pain was.
"Stay back after training. I want to talk to you." Atlanta said, before turning back to her stopwatch. The girl nodded as she crouched at the track side, her hands knitted together, heaving for breath.
"Nearly there, just bring that last 200 metres home!" Atlanta yelled at the pack, whom obliged with a strong finishing kick.
Maya's blue hair was faded - regrowth was creeping back in at the roots, and her shoulders sagged as she sat hunched over on the bench next to Atlanta. The session had ended almost half an hour ago, but sweat was still dripping from Maya's brow and defeat hung in the air around her.
"Is it your knee again?" Atlanta asked. Maya nodded.
"I thought the doctors cleared you."
"They did." Maya said, sounding frustrated. "I did all the rehab perfectly. I don't know why it's bothering me. I just want to get back on the field again."
Atlanta smiled grimly as she sat down next to Maya on the bench. "It can be like this, though. Sometimes injuries won't follow the usual rules." Even as she said it, Atlanta's thoughts flickered back to a certain someone's ankle, which, despite all rational medical treatment, had never been as strong or stable as it should have been.
Maya shook her head. "Maybe I should just quit. I'm not gonna make it to the starting line up at this stage, am I?"
Atlanta had never heard this kind of quiet acceptance in Maya's voice before. It was grim, for sure, but laced with absolute bitterness. The hunched, mottled character who sat next to Atlanta now was nothing like the girl she'd met at the start of the season.
Maya had turned up with green hair at the time - the blue had come in a few weeks later. Atlanta had never met someone as unabashedly fierce as Maya. From her first game, Maya made bold calls; she took on harsh angles on the goals and difficult run-ons that even the best trained strikers would normally avoid. Nothing was ever too much of a challenge for Maya. Atlanta had been told she'd been a wildcard pick on the part of the collegiate coaches. Originally, they hadn't even intended to select Maya at all, had it not been for the few amazing goals she'd slipped in during try outs. Maya wasn't a stand out in terms of background; she hadn't known the coaches, hadn't networked into the system, and hadn't competed at nationals before. But she'd clearly been willing to challenge herself and take bold chances, or so Atlanta had been told. And so she'd arrived, an unknown force on the field.
At first, some part of Atlanta was irked by Maya. All the other girls were of a certain pedigree; they knew typical collegiate training drills, how to talk to coaches, how to approach games. They'd been raised in a competitive, high performance environment and primed for semi-elite sport for years. They obeyed Atlanta's every training command, treating her word as gospel. Atlanta had come to expect nothing else from women in sport at this level.
But Maya had not been through the ranks these young girls had. Maya would ask to do extra reps when Atlanta said training was done. She would challenge the starting line up that Atlanta announced, suggest different field set ups, even try new shots in games that Atlanta asked her to hold off on until they were more reliable. Atlanta had been venting to Archie about Maya one night, a few months back - before Maya had been dealing with these injuries.
"She's just so irritating. I don't get why she doesn't listen to me. I've got the experience and I'm her coach for a reason. None of the other girls challenge me like this."
She and Archie were dying their hair in the bathroom at the time. Archie had smirked as she spoke, and Atlanta - unable to move, as her hair was in Archie's hands - growled.
"What, Archie?"
"Okay, don't get mad at me…"
"That depends on what you say."
Archie smiled to himself.
"Well, she kinda sounds a lot like you, Atlanta."
The next few minutes, Archie could barely get a word in.
Sure, I took a few dumb shots on goal, but only if we're ahead or if it's make or break!
Yeah, alright, I challenged my coach too, but only because he was a sexist pig…
I ALWAYS obeyed the field set ups they proposed… yeah, okay, I broke formation when the set up was like, really dumb, but mine aren't like that, I write great formations...
But as Maya sat here now, staring into her hands with a defeated gaze, Atlanta could finally see a little bit of herself in this young, ambitious, headstrong kid.
"What else is going on, Maya?" Atlanta asked. "You know you're too good to quit."
Maya paused, running her fingers through her short hair. She seemed to be wrestling with something, some urge.
"Just - just uni. It's really hard to keep on top of the workload with all the training and rehab."
"That's it?" Atlanta asked bluntly. She knew Maya was lying.
Probably because, although she hated to admit it, Atlanta sounded the same when she lied.
Maya smiled blandly at Atlanta. "Just stuff going on at home."
"Try me."
Maya's fingers knitted together nervously.
"I guess I've been pretty anxious about going home for Christmas. First summer break after college, you know?"
"Difficult family?" Atlanta asked.
Maya shook her head. "No, no, I mean, Mum and Dad are fine. It's just that I was hoping to bring my girlfriend home."
Atlanta's heart squeezed, swelling in her chest. Archie's words, she's just like you, suddenly had much more meaning.
Maya continued. "Like, they'd be okay if I was lesbian. They get that - being attracted to girls instead of guys. But it's the bi thing. They keep making jokes about this girl in my grade who came out as bi, how she just couldn't choose a side, and how bi people are just greedy."
As they sat there, for the first time in the 6 months they'd worked together this season, Atlanta saw in Maya a version of herself at that age. Maya was not only the injury-plagued, deeply passionate, hot headed athlete Atlanta had once been, but, just as Atlanta had, Maya too was dealing with the unique challenge of coming out as bi.
Atlanta felt for this blue-haired girl who was struggling with life as Atlanta once had. It gets easier, Atlanta wanted to promise her. You learn that the right people will still love you. Time passes, and the injuries fade, and somehow, it all seems a little less bleak.
"Well, however you decide to come out to them, they'll probably never top the reaction my brothers had when I came out as bi." Atlanta offered.
Maya looked Atlanta up and down with a quiet recognition. The oh-my-god-you're-gay-how-did-I-miss-this sort of recognition.
"Tell me about it. I-if you're comfortable, of course." Maya stuttered.
Atlanta grinned. Maya's nervous stutter reminded Atlanta of someone else's nervous habits - a certain purple haired someone, who Atlanta was due to call tonight. Someone who still, to this day, made Atlanta's lips turn up at the corners, and brought a warm, bubbling feeling to her chest.
