you're on your own, kid

Chapter 7 - Shifting Cast

"What do you think," I said to Lena, as we drove to training, one morning in May, "about a Finally-we're-out-of-lockdown party?"

"A party?" Lena confirmed.

"Yeah... like you know that thing that people when they bring their friends together at their place, often with food, and drinks, and stuff." Lena glared at me, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"I mean- MILA! THE ROAD!" she screamed, as I quickly hit her foot on the break. "Oh my god."

"Sorry," I said, gritting my teeth.

"Girl, I know you love looking people in the eye when you talk but please, for god's sake, look at the road." I started to crack up, my cheeks widening. "Do not laugh!"

"Oberdorf, are you alive?"

"Yes..."

"So, it all worked out."

"You are so weird."

"We're breathing; that's all that I care about."

"You're tires are going to tell a different story."

We had just come back from a devastating loss to Chelsea in March. It was the quarter-final of the Champions League and nothing went to plan. No one played like they usually had done, and I saw our team fall apart in front of my eyes. We knew that if we wanted to finish off the season strong, we had to be better. We had to prove why we were one of the best teams in Europe.

There was nothing else to it.

In April, we went into camp again, playing some friendlies before the upcoming tournament: the Olympics.

"It's going to be so different," I said to Lena, as we sat on our couch once the Olympics groups were finalized.

"What is?"

"The whole tournament. With Covid and everything, it's not going to be like anything we've experienced before." Germany didn't qualify despite being the reigning Olympic Champions. It's funny, how things can change so drastically in four years.

We played two friendlies: one against Spain and the other against Australia. We lost to Spain, suffering a minor 1-0 loss, but with the way we played, it could've been far worse. I was out on the wing like I would typically be, but there was nothing to play. We hardly had the ball. Spain were good. Too good. They were controlling the play and tempo; nothing we could do could slow them down. I was just grateful that we wouldn't have to fight against them at the Olympics too.

We then versed Australia, but without their normal midfield, and steady backline, propelled only by their forward three of Kerr, Foord, and Raso, they were never going to be a real threat. Players such as Ellie Carpenter, Tippah Jones, and Steph Cately were all out for various amount of reasons. We won 5-0, but it wasn't a satisfying win. Never would be.

After the break, there were a few more weeks of the season left. Nothing much changed. We needed to win the big clash against Bayern to regain the top of the table after a mid-season defeat.

But a 1-1 draw didn't help us.

If we wanted any chance of winning the league, Bayern had to drop points.

But they didn't. They won each of their final games, and in the end, we had to be content with second place.

But we weren't. None of us were.

"Hold your heads up high," Alex said to us. "It just means we have more to fight for next time. Okay?" We all nodded to our captain, who was right. This would only push us further.

Before the season's end, the best news soon came.

"Guess what?" Jill said to me, over the phone, the night before everything was set to change once more.

"You're scaring me."

"Milly, guess!"

"What?"

"I have some news."

"Just tell me."

"No, I want you to guess."

"No, just tell me."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Fine!"

"Thank you."

"I'm leaving Arsenal. At the end of the season."

"Really? Where are you going?" Something sparked in me. Something new. Exciting. As if, I had a feeling that she was going to say something that would make me feel relieved.