Fuck, you definitely messed up that pass. You feel sweat drip from your brow, your muscles tensed up as your eyes were locked down onto the concrete below your cleats. Seated by the benches after your big game against St. Lourdes with the rest of the team jumping around in joy, because the Yellowjackets won. As a newer player, you were quite self-conscious about your game with the other varsity players — and no one can fault you for that. These girls have experience and enough trust in one another in order to win.

Letting out a shaky breath, you shut your eyes close. Today is a good day, you won, that's what matters — your shitty pass could've ended the game terribly however.

"Yo, dude—" Came a low, slightly raspy voice from your right. You nearly flinch, causing your eyes to open up and widen considerably to look up to the person who called you up while you were sulking. Bleached blonde and practically glowing paleness, came Natalie Scatorccio in the flesh, looking at you in mild concern as she bites the inside of her cheek. "You're shaking." She deadpans, arms crossed as she looks down on your figure.

"We're uh, going out for a celebration after this. You should come." She mutters, hand now coming up to ruffle the back of her hair, a habit she can't let go of. "Are you good, though?"