-Raya-
My muscles ached in that satisfying kind of way—the kind that said you worked for something today. The field lights were still buzzing overhead, casting long shadows across the turf as our team started gathering bags, unstrapping pads, and shaking out their limbs.
Someone let out a whoop behind me.
“That was so good,” Mela grinned, jogging toward me as she twisted her damp hair into a bun. “You’ve seriously improved. Like, no joke.”
“Especially that pitch to Samira in the second scrimmage,” Trish added, tossing her water bottle from one hand to the other like it was a football. “That was clean.”
My cheeks flushed, but I smiled. “You really think so?”
“Girl,” Mela said, grabbing her bag, “we don’t say it if we don’t mean it.”
I laughed softly, letting that settle somewhere war
