The new football team

[Stgfan]

Hello everyone. This is going to be a very long story. If you like it, please leave a comment – it's always nice to hear from you. If you don't like it, please leave a comment – it'll help me improve.
Apologies for any grammatical errors, but English isn't my first language and all translations have been done using DeepL.

Chapter 1

It was dinner time. In the centre of the rectangular table, a frying pan brimming with peas, potatoes and boiled carrots was still steaming. Four plates were arranged at the four corners. Two of them, half-filled with vegetables alone, contained modest, light and strictly diet-friendly portions. The third was a graveyard of yesterday's leftovers, containing a piece of baked fish, soggy broccoli and half a sandwich. The last plate, however, was empty. It was waiting for the succulent steak sizzling away, kept warm on the hob, the aroma of which had by now filled the kitchen air and wafted all the way into the living room.

Three members of the family were already seated, eagerly waiting to say grace and tuck in. Only Rick, the eldest son, was missing. The steak was for him and, as usual, he was running late.

"Emily, please, could you ring your brother?" asked Sara, the mother. She gave her daughter a faint smile, her lips pressed tightly together. Her brown hair was pulled back into an impeccable chignon. Her make-up was applied with meticulous precision, foundation applied to perfection, clump-free mascara and a thin line of eyeliner designed to lift her gaze and conceal the fine lines around her eyes. Stubborn lines that persisted in reappearing despite numerous surgical procedures.

Emily turned round, exasperation written all over her face. Her sky-blue eyes were a whirlwind of anger, disappointment and determination. Everything, except resignation. No injustice had ever made her give up her convictions, and she certainly wasn't about to start now. Not for her brother's sake.

"I've already called him four times!" she snapped. "Can't we start without him?"

"We're all eating together!" her father, Henry, chided her, in a tone that sounded all too scripted.

"Last week you started without me!" retorted Emily.

Henry cast an uncertain glance at his wife, racking his brains for the incident.

"Rick had just got back from training, darling. He was starving," Sara interjected, coming to her husband's rescue.

"Well, I've been training today too. I went for a run and I'm starving!"

Henry tried to steer the conversation back on track with a half-smile and a condescending tone: "Of course, Emily, but Rick'd had a proper training session. He'd been to football training!"

There it was. The magic word. The golden key that unlocked the doors to every family privilege, the green card that legitimised every vice and whim: football!

Just then, the man who'd been conspicuously absent walked through the kitchen door. Chest puffed out, a smirk plastered on his lips, and completely unconcerned that his family had been waiting for him for over a quarter of an hour. He absent-mindedly flung his mobile onto the tablecloth and slumped heavily into his chair.

"About time!" exclaimed Emily, clasping her parents' hands for the prayer.

Rick simply ignored her.

Sara and Henry pretended not to notice and bowed their heads. Years earlier they'd tried to set their eldest son straight, but, after countless failures, they'd raised the white flag. 'That's just the way Rick is,' they'd tell themselves to make peace with it. 'You can't change a person's character.'

Emily, however, had never bought into that story. She knew full well that the only real reason had always been football, ever since Rick had started throwing the ball and shown he had talent.

Henry, a die-hard fan of the sport, had always dreamt of a son capable of playing at a high level. And when Rick had been chosen as quarterback for the school team, all the spotlights had turned on him, making him shine in his father's eyes with a divine, blinding light.

Emily, for her part, didn't shine with the same light. Not because she was any less brilliant, less athletic or less capable. On the contrary, unlike Rick, who just scraped by, she was among the top of the class. She was well-mannered (when it mattered), disciplined and talented in every sport she took up.
She simply wasn't the school's quarterback.

Not yet, at least.

"You'll never believe this," Rick began as soon as the 'Amen' had been murmured. "The headteacher wants to set up a girls' football team."

He burst out laughing, shaking his head and making his tuft of brown hair sway. He looked at his father, expecting the usual complicity.

Henry gave a half-smile. "It'll be yet another stunt about gender equality."

Rick sought his mother's gaze.

"I can't imagine what sort of girls would ever agree to it," commented Sara, puzzled. "Football's such a... brutal sport."

Rick's chest puffed out even further, intoxicated by yet another confirmation of his supposed genetic superiority. Finally, he fixed his gaze on his younger sister, with the air of a sovereign demanding the approval of the common folk. "What do you think? Did you know about this?"

Emily's sky-blue eyes remained glued to her plate. Her back was slightly hunched as she concentrated on the task of spearing an elusive pea. Her blonde hair, tied back in a messy ponytail, fell over her red tracksuit top. She was undeniably a pretty girl: 5'7" tall, with a face of delicate features and a toned, shapely figure weighing 145 lb. But it was her thoughts, rather than her appearance, that gave her that tomboyish air. She despised the patriarchal system which, in her view, ruled the world and reigned unchallenged in the school corridors and within the walls of her own home.

"Yes, I know," she replied in a flat tone, without looking up. "It was my idea."

Rick blinked a couple of times, staring at her as if a second head had sprouted from her neck. "What?"

Emily finally managed to catch the pea. She straightened her back and met her brother's gaze. "I put in the request, together with Lucy. We went to speak to the headteacher about it two weeks ago."

Rick fell silent for a second, as the image of Lucy materialised in his mind. His sister's friend had been on his personal list of conquests to tick off for as long as he could remember. Blonde, green-eyed, a killer figure. She was similar to Emily in height and weight, and shared her same brazen confidence. The only obstacle that had always held Rick back was precisely those odd feminist ideas that Lucy shared with Emily, turning her into a potential loose cannon for his reputation as a quarterback.

"But..." Rick's voice cracked. "Why? You're cheerleaders. You're already part of the football team... well, in your own way."

Emily flashed a venomous smile. "Sure. It's just a shame the headteacher has banned the use of the main pitch for any activities other than your sacred football. We cheerleaders would have been relegated to that damp gym, sharing the space with the volleyball team."

"Well, we're aiming for the state title this year. It's only natural that the headteacher would want..."

< SMACK. >

Emily's fist slammed down on the table, making the plates rattle. "Natural, my arse. The headteacher's just a sexist. So we cheerleaders got together, disbanded the team and set up a football team. In protest!"

It took Rick a few seconds to process the information. It was impossible to put two and two together without realising this was a hidden camera prank. In fact, he burst out laughing.

"I don't believe it," he gasped, doubled over with laughter. "Do you cheerleaders really think you're going to play football?"

Unlike him, the parents didn't find it a funny joke.

"Emily..." Henry began, visibly uncomfortable. "You're... you're girls. You're lighter, you're meant to cheer from the sidelines, not to..."

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Emily's voice cut through the air like a blade. Her index finger was pointed straight at her father's nose.

Henry fell silent at once, knowing all too well the volcanic eruption that followed every time he broached that subject with his daughter.

Sara tried to intervene in a more diplomatic tone. "Darling, be reasonable. There must be other ways to challenge a rule you consider unfair..."

"Let's hear it, then, what are they?" pressed Emily, unyielding. "Eighty per cent of the teachers are narrow-minded men, and half the school's female population hangs on the every word of troglodytes like Rick."

"I know, but I'm afraid you might seriously hurt yourselves. That you might ruin that pretty face of yours."

"Girls are worth much more than just a pretty face. And it saddens me that you still haven't realised that, considering you're a woman yourself."

Sara lowered her eyes to her plate, unable to find the strength to reply.

"Emily's right!" exclaimed Rick, struggling to stifle his giggles. "It takes more than just a pretty face to be a cheerleader. You need a nice bum and a nice pair of tits too!"

Henry bowed his head to hide a knowing smirk, whilst Sara whispered a faint, resigned, "Rick..."

Emily gripped the handle of her fork so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Do you have the faintest idea how many hours we spend training? Perfecting our synchronisation? Making sure every jump, every catch and every pyramid is executed to perfection?"

"Yes. And all this to celebrate the only real stars." Rick tapped his thumb against his chest. "Us. The players. The ones people pay to see and come to the stadium for. You're just window dressing. Football isn't for girls. You should be thanking us for the show, not trying to imitate us. You'll look ridiculous. Worse still: you'll be embarrassing."

Emily's eyes narrowed to two icy slits. "We cheerleaders are stubborn, and we'll prove it to you. What seems to you today as just a ridiculous protest... could turn into something much, much bigger tomorrow."

Without another word, Emily popped the forkful of peas into her mouth, flashing an icy smile at her older brother.

[Stgfan]

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[Stgfan]

Here's the second chapter. Let me know if you'd like the story to continue.


Chapter 2

On the day of sports club sign-ups, Emily arrived in a rush, her rucksack bouncing heavily against her back with every step. Unlike her brother Rick, she didn't have a car, so she was at the mercy of public transport, and, as was to be expected, the city bus was running late. The school's large hall was already a hive of activity with students. The blonde girl, her hair tied back in a hasty ponytail, scanned the crowd in search of her friend Lucy.

She spotted her in the distance, in front of their stand. They'd been relegated to the west-hand corner, between the toilets and the caretaker's storeroom. The most rubbish spot in the whole hall. Even the badminton club, which nobody ever joined, had a better spot. Lucy was leaning against the small table, clad in a tight-fitting T-shirt and a pair of cropped leggings. She had her toned legs crossed and was nervously swinging her red Converse. Her arms were folded, supporting her small 34B breasts, whilst her fingers drummed impatiently on her arm.

Emily stiffened. Her friend's face was a mask of tension, her lips pressed into a hard line. It wasn't the usual 'there's a problem' expression. It was the 'it's a total disaster' look.

"So?" Emily began, cutting straight to the chase.

Lucy's green eyes, usually proud and resolute, were veiled in a sombre resignation. "Seven."

Emily's heart skipped a beat, a thud in her chest that was almost painful. "Seven? What do you mean, seven? There were twenty-three of us at the cheerleading meeting."

"Exactly! And not half of them turned up. We've failed before we've even started."

Devastated, Emily sat down on the edge of the table next to her best friend. A rebellious strand of blonde hair slipped out of her hairband, falling across her sky-blue eyes. She was wearing a loose-fitting tracksuit, with long trousers and long sleeves. If it hadn't been for the colour of her eyes and her bust, a 32A for her, they would easily have mistaken her for Lucy's twin sister.

She huffed, tormented by a question she couldn't answer. "But why? They promised to support us in this protest."

Lucy stood ramrod straight, her nerves on edge, her eyes scanning the crowd. "Something must have happened that we don't know about."

The minimum number required to form a football team was eleven. A ridiculous number to be competitive, of course, but enough to formalise the registration. Without that number, the school wouldn't have a girls' football team this year. And, in all likelihood, never again.

The minutes ticked by relentlessly. The two girls' eyes wandered towards the other stands. A riot of athletes, handshakes, pats on the back and triumphant smiles.

"Only five minutes to go," murmured Emily, checking her watch for the hundredth time.

"Well, at least we've got up to nine thanks to those two emo third-years," retorted Lucy sarcastically, pointing at two girls dressed in black and studs, with their hair dyed in 'original' colours, who were walking away hand in hand.

"Do you think they're a couple?"

"As far as I'm concerned, they might as well be married. The main thing is they've signed! They said they chose our stand because it was the most 'unusual and controversial'. Perfect for rebelling against the corrupt school system."

"I don't know whether to feel offended or lucky."

The two shared a bitter smile, turning back to contemplate their defeat. The silence around their stall was so profound it drowned out the din of the hall. It was almost more deafening than Rick's voice, as he cackled with his mates whilst an endless queue of lads jostled at the boys' team's stall.

It all seemed lost. Over and done with. Then, two figures broke away from the crowd, heading towards their table. They advanced with an uncertain, hesitant gait, clearly out of place amidst that sea of pumped-up athletes.

The first was a petite, fragile girl, barely 5 feet tall and weighing no more than 90 pounds, most of which was concentrated on her hips. A raven-black bob framed her face, dominated by glasses with lenses so thick that they made her eyes appear disproportionately large. She wore an oversized jumper that reached almost to her knees and baggy jeans that swallowed up her slender figure.

The second was her exact opposite. A giant at least 6'1" tall and weighing over 220 pounds. She had broad shoulders and a sturdy, massive build, so imposing that students would step aside before she even got close. A cascade of voluminous red hair framed her round, friendly face. Two green eyes, dotted with freckles, sparkled above an innocent smile that seemed to shout to the world: 'I don't care what you think, I'm happy with my body!'

"E-excuse me," began the smaller one, in a nasal, trembling voice. "I-is this the table for the women's football team?"

Lucy straightened up with a start, puffing out her chest in a pathetic attempt to look less short in front of the towering redhead. "Yes, that's us. Is either of you interested?"

"We'd both like to sign up," replied the tall girl, her voice deep and confident, in stark contrast to her friend's stammer.

Emily couldn't believe her ears. She felt her heart burst with joy. "R-really? Why?"

Lucy gave her a sharp nudge in the ribs that took her breath away. "What do you care why? We'll just accept them!"

"R-right!" Emily recovered. "Thank you, really... and welcome to the team. What are your names?"

"Tina!" exclaimed the redhead, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and making her curls dance. "And this is Polly." She placed a huge hand on Polly's head, covering it entirely, from the nape of her neck to her forehead.

"W-we joined for different reasons, but I suppose that doesn't matter to you, does it?" stammered Polly, casting nervous glances between Emily and Lucy. "M-my mum insists I do sport. She says I spend too much time with books and computers. Anything would have been fine with me, but Tina was dead set on this. My dad's a sports journalist; he's been writing about football for ages. I reckon he'll be pleased."

Emily turned her attention to the towering girl. "So you're a football fan?"

"Oh, no, not in a million years," admitted Tina with disarming candour, making Lucy's eyebrows shoot up. "The thing is, I'm head over heels in love with the boys' team's quarterback. That square jaw, the tousled hair, the chiselled chest, the legs of steel, that... obvious bulge."

She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, dreamily, whilst a shiver of pure horror ran down Emily's spine at that all-too-vivid description of her own brother.

"I know, it's pathetic," Tina continued, gesturing towards her own voluminous figure. "The most popular boy in school would never notice a... walk-in wardrobe like me."

Blood rushed to Emily's cheeks. Not out of embarrassment, but out of anger. The very same flame that had flared up in her stomach at dinner, when Rick had belittled her project.

"Don't you ever dare set limits on yourself again," she said firmly, placing a hand on Tina's soft arm. "No one has the right to mock your dreams. And no one should stop you from pursuing them, however easy or difficult they may be!"

She took a moment to look at the two strangers, committing to memory the faces of those who, against all odds, had just saved their team.

"You have no idea what you mean to us," Lucy interjected, breaking the spell. "Without you, we wouldn't even have been able to submit the forms."

"I-I suppose so," whispered Polly, shyly. "The boys' team ran a ruthless smear campaign against you. They badmouthed your project to everyone. They went round saying you'd be an embarrassment to the school... and to anyone who joined you."

"Exactly!" added Tina. "They used their social clout, their connections, their influence. All the cheerleaders who'd been supporting you until yesterday—many of whom are engaged to the players—were practically forced to withdraw."

Emily felt her temples throbbing. The buzz of the hall faded into an indistinct hum. She could hear only Polly and Tina's words. And Rick's raucous laughter.

"That son of a bitch," hissed Lucy, losing her usual composure.

Emily didn't waste a word. She set off at a brisk pace, cutting through the crowd and weaving her way past the stalls. She reached her brother in the centre of the hall, where he stood towering, surrounded by his entourage of teammates.

Rick was wearing his match kit. The numbers on his back seemed to glisten under the lights, and his posture was that of someone who knows he's always the centre of attention.

Emily planted herself in front of him, her fists clenched at her sides. "You arrogant bastard!"

He looked down, raising an eyebrow in a mask of feigned surprise. "Little sis! If you've come to join us, I'm afraid registration's closed. And anyway, we only take proper players."

"You sabotaged our sign-ups!" she shouted, drawing the curious stares of half the team. "You spread rumours, you threatened anyone who wanted to sign up, you forced my teammates to back out!"

"Forced?" Rick burst out laughing. "Listen, little sister, I didn't have to lift a finger. The truth is much more mundane. Nobody wants to join your little squad of losers because nobody wants to become a loser. Why ruin your reputation for a whim that'll last two weeks at best?"

He took a step forward, towering over her to drive home the difference in their height. Emily didn't back down. She never backed down, not even when her survival instinct was screaming at her to run away.

"But you know what's the hilarious bit?" Rick continued, raising his voice to make sure everyone could hear. "That you actually believe it. You actually think you can play football. You're a cheerleader, Emily. A little doll. A bloody decorative prop. Go back to wiggling your bum with those pom-poms and leave the sport to those who have the physique for it. Get it into your head: football isn't for girls!"

Someone sniggered. Others whispered amongst themselves. A few girls slipped away with their heads down.

Emily's cheeks were burning. "We'll put a team together," she snarled, her voice trembling with adrenaline. "We'll take to the pitch and I'll make you eat every single word you've said, Rick. We'll become this school's top team. I promise."

Rick laughed heartily, backed up by his teammates and most of the crowd. "Sure, little sis. As if. Give me a shout when you're ready to take us on to see who's boss."

He turned his back on her and walked off with his gang. Emily stood rooted to the spot, the palms of her hands marked by the crescent shapes of her fingernails dug into her flesh.

When Lucy caught up with her, she found her as taut as a bowstring. Chin held high. Chest thrust out. Her scorching gaze fixed on the spot where Rick had vanished.

"Em?" Lucy called out, with a caution unusual for her.

Emily turned. An unquenchable fire burned in her sky-blue eyes. Pure determination.

"Lucy... I want us to do something impossible."

Her friend's lips curved into a smug smile. Her nipples were hard with excitement.

"A handful of girls against the whole school? You can count on me, as always. I've even got the perfect name for us in mind."

"What is it?"

"The Spartans Girls!"

[blackhawkdown]

Great start. Love a slow burner. Keep it up.

[Stgfan]

Chapter 3

The Spartans Girls' first training session took place the following week. It was late afternoon; lessons and training sessions for the other teams had long since finished, and the pitch was finally free. The sky was beginning to take on the warm colours of sunset, casting a dim and glaring light. The equipment at their disposal was old and worn out – a jumble of unused odds and ends from previous years. New machinery and top-of-the-range equipment were the exclusive preserve of the boys' team. At least the grass had been carefully mown that very morning. Not for them, of course, but for Rick and his teammates.

The lads, in fact, had just finished their session and Rick had herded them en masse up to the stands to watch their little sister's supposed disaster from the front row. He was expecting a comedy act, of course, but he hadn't the faintest idea just how hilarious it would be.

Emily stepped onto the pitch, clutching a crumpled piece of paper between her fingers. The day before, the headmaster had informed her that all the teachers had turned down the job of coaching the girls' team, and with such short notice it was unthinkable to find an external replacement. But, stubborn as she was, the blonde hadn't given up. Smartphone in hand, she'd Googled 'how to coach a football team' and taken notes until late into the night. The fact that she'd understood almost nothing didn't bother her in the slightest. She'd just have to wing it. After all, it was just a matter of getting a ball over a line.

Lucy walked alongside her, proud in her role as assistant coach. Chests out and brimming with confidence, the two girls crossed the pitch full of anticipation. When they reached the halfway line, they looked each other straight in the eye for a moment, nodded in unison and kicked off the show.

In front of them, the nine recruits formed a disorganised and rather unpromising crescent. There was Polly, desperately trying to hide behind her best friend's arm. Tina towered over everyone with her imposing frame. A little further on were Betty and Vicky, the two emo girls: one was chewing gum noisily, the other was taking a drag on a hand-rolled cigarette. Their faces were the very picture of boredom and indifference. The other five simply stared at their shoes or fiddled with the hems of T-shirts that were far too baggy for their slender and decidedly unathletic frames.

Emily cleared her throat. "Welcome!" she began. "I'm Emily and this is Lucy. Due to a minor technical hiccup, we're currently without a coach, so until we find a replacement, we'll be leading the training sessions."

The girls stared at her with a mixture of scepticism and pity. Right, the motivational speech hadn't got off to the best start. Emily decided to step it up a notch to instil a bit of enthusiasm.

"I know none of you have any experience of football. I know because... well, neither do I! But we'll learn together, as we go along. It'll be tough at first, but I'm convinced that with commitment and goodwill, we can go on to win the championship!"

The deathly silence that followed her announcement hit her like a punch to the chest. After a few seconds of sheer awkwardness, Lucy stepped in to break the tension. "Any questions?"

Vicky stepped forward. She was slim, 5'8" tall and weighed 140 pounds, with long raven-black hair and a purple streak that half-covered her face. "So, let me get this straight... do you really think you're going to enter us into a league? I mean... play proper matches? Against real, flesh-and-blood opponents?"

"Of course!" replied Emily without hesitation, trying her best to sound convincing.

Betty stepped up alongside her friend. She was slightly shorter, about 5'6" and 145 pounds, with sandy-coloured hair shaved at the sides and a curly lock falling over one eye. She held a lit cigarette between her lips, showing complete disregard for the ban on smoking on the pitch. "Really, really?" she pressed. "Do you seriously think you're going to sign us up for a proper league?"

"Yes, REALLY!" retorted Emily, enunciating each syllable clearly. "Are there any other questions that don't concern our participation in the league?"

Polly took a step forward, trembling like a leaf. "I-I suffer a bit from haphephobia... which is a fear of physical contact. I mean, except with Tina... She can touch me... It's with the others that... well... do you think that might be a problem?"

"Polly, you're on a football team," Lucy shouted, exasperated. "How on earth do you expect to play football without physical contact..."

Emily wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close and urging her through gritted teeth to count to ten. "Calm down, Lucy. We need everyone, remember? Even her."

Lucy exhaled deeply to calm herself, whilst Polly, terrified, had already taken refuge behind the broad back of her gigantic friend.

At that moment, Tina's huge hand loomed above everyone else's heads. "You two, you and Lucy, are you twins?"

Her tone was so genuine and innocent that the icy silence that followed swept away every last trace of tension. A moment later, the whole group burst out laughing. The situation was saved.

"No, Tina," replied Emily with a smile. "We've got the same hair colour, we're the same height and we've known each other for ages... but we're not twins. We just look alike."

Tina nodded, satisfied with the answer, and the team stopped — at least for a moment — brooding over the impending sporting disaster that lay ahead.

"Right," Emily cut in, clapping her hands. "Let's get started!"

The fifteen minutes of theory-based training were a prelude to disaster.

Emily tried to explain the various positions, only to end up confusing the linebacker with the offensive guard. Lucy tried to demonstrate the throwing technique, but the ball began to wobble through the air like a drone gone haywire. The explanation of the game plans degenerated in the blink of an eye into an embarrassing choreographed routine, with the two friends busy tracing imaginary arrows in the air, waving their arms about pointlessly.

The thirty minutes of physical training were the culmination of the disaster.

Half the team was already out of breath after just two laps of the pitch. Betty and Vicky turned every single tackle attempt into a convenient excuse to grope each other without the slightest sense of modesty. Polly, for her part, dodged everyone and fled towards the touchlines with a speed which, given her spindly little legs, could only have been fuelled by sheer terror.
After nearly an hour of torment, the girls collapsed onto the grass, exhausted and with their spirits in tatters.

From the stands, Rick and his henchmen were leaving their seats to head home. Throughout the entire training session, they hadn't stopped sniggering for a single second. At one point, they'd even pulled out beers and crisps, revelling in the spectacle as if it were the best comedy of the year.

Emily approached Lucy, forcing herself to ignore the scornful comments raining down from the stands. "It's embarrassing how rubbish we are," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

Lucy didn't reply straight away. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and studied the disastrous team slumped in front of them carefully. "They're all beginners. What did you expect?"

"No, beginners miss a throw or slip up on a tackle. These lot would manage to lose a match even without any opponents on the pitch."

Lucy nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe the other girls' teams are just as rubbish as we are."

"I don't think there's ever been a worse team than ours." Emily hung her head, dejected. "Maybe we should just pull out now. I'll go and see the headteacher, tell him I've messed up, and beg him to bring the cheerleading squad back."

Lucy spun round abruptly, digging her fingers into Emily's shoulders. She held her gaze for a fraction of a second, then closed the distance and pressed her lips against her friend's. It was a bold, forceful kiss that took her breath away, leaving her with no way out.

Emily's eyes widened, frozen by the intensity of the gesture. She stood motionless, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs, for the entire duration of the kiss. When they finally pulled apart, their breaths mingled in the air, but neither of them looked away.

�"Lucy... we've already tried this..." whispered Emily, her voice barely audible.

�"No, you're the one who tried it!" Lucy cut her off, without backing down a single millimetre. "I knew exactly who I was and how I felt. You, on the other hand, had the guts to go for it, because you're the one who never backs down. You're the girl who never gives up. Today's training was just the start. We've got loads of time to improve and force the headteacher, your brother and everyone else to take back every single word... and every bloody laugh."

�Emily held her breath.

�"On Saturday we'll play our first friendly," Lucy continued, lowering her voice slightly to make it even more forceful. "And only then will we find out if we really are the hopeless case we seem to be."

�Emily felt a tightness in her chest. Then, a wave of all-too-familiar warmth coursed through her veins.

�"Yes," she replied at last, lifting her chin with renewed pride. "You're right. We can do this. After all, the other girls' teams can't be that much stronger than us..."