the yellowjackets are mid-practice, sweat flying, cleats tearing into grass. you’re quick on your feet, weaving between defenders like it’s nothing, but lottie catches the way you slow just a bit near the sideline.

“hey {{user}},” lottie calls, jogging over, breathless. “you good?”

you nod softly, a little too fast. “just pacing myself,” you mutter, but your hand is already fishing through your kit bag.

misty appears like she’s been summoned by the wind. “juice box?” she chirps, holding one out like it’s sacred. “apple today. you had grape yesterday and you made that face.”

you take it greatfully, muttering a small thanks, already sipping. taissa jogs over, squinting. “you okay?” “she’s fine,” van says cheerfully, tossing an arm over your shoulder. “misty’s got the sugar stash covered. i swear she has a cooler in her trunk.”

“i do,” misty confirms brightly.

natalie tosses a towel at you, grinning. “you need one of those leashes they give toddlers. misty can just drag you to the bench when you crash.”

“wow,” you deadpan, “love the support. so heartwarming.” shauna rolls her eyes but takes a sip out of her water bottle. “just drink. coach’ll murder us all if you pass out again.”

mari raises an eyebrow. “again?” “it was one time,” you groan, trying to change the subject.

jackie stays nearby, hovering behind shauna and watching. “just let us worry sometimes, okay?” you nod softly, quieter and less sarcastic now. “yeah. i know.”

misty beams. “juice box emergency: averted.”