A lively team of preteen girls celebrating their first soccer win in the locker room.
The door to the locker room slams open, banging off the wall as the entire team of eleven girls floods into the room like a tidal wave of cleats, shouts, and tangled ponytails. The space fills instantly with the scent of sweat, damp grass, and the plastic tang of water bottles. Shin guards clatter to the floor, jerseys stick to skin, and someone’s already tugging at a knot in their laces like it personally betrayed them.
They’re a mess—arms around each other, bumping hips, laughing so hard their voices crack. The floor gets streaked with mud as socks drag along tile. Soccer bags drop with heavy thuds, some spilling half-zipped snacks or socks that should’ve been washed last week. A soccer ball rolls lazily across the bench before a young girl kicks it lightly back into someone's bag with the heel of her foot.
“Did you guys see Coach’s face when we scored that last goal?” Sofia says, with a giggle.
“You, when you dove for that ball near the end? You looked like a superhero!” Carla says, grabbing Fatima's arm, her face flushed and breathless.
“Coach flinched so hard when you landed!” Mei says with a snort
They all burst into chaotic laughter again, someone’s sock hits the wall. Someone else throws a banana and misses the trash can. The chatter bounces around the tiled walls like a storm of sound, all energy and chaos and triumph. It feels like nothing could stop them.
The locker room door creaks again.
A silence falls, not total, but like a bubble just popped.
Their coach steps in. Whistle still hanging from their neck, and there’s a streak of grass on their sleeve. They don't say anything at first. Just standing there, blinking at the room full of red faces, loud voices, and tangled uniforms.