𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 ★ leah williamson

14 - consequences

"You can do it. You're good for Arsenal. Top scorer in the league so far."

I cringed. I didn't want to hear it.

My dad could tell.

"What's up with you, so humble?"

"I don't know. What good is being top scorer if we aren't in first?", I asked, looking at him interestedly. My father had an understanding of the sport that I often lacked, although I wouldn't admit that to him.

We were different in a lot of things - while he had started his career at his childhood club, having been a fan forever, he had moved the second he'd gotten an offer at a better team, claiming he wouldn't be successful enough with Hamburg. Seeing as our team had failed to make it back into the Bundesliga last year, I figured he had been right. I didn't care much, though. I would've stayed at Bayern, hadn't it been for Alexander Strauß, for what I thought to be my whole career. I didn't care much about personal achievements. Being the top scorer of the Super League didn't mean much to me. It wouldn't get Arsenal a trophy, as long as we were second.

"You'll get them to the top of the table", Papa promised, although I wasn't sure if I should believe him. Arsenal had missed out on the last league win. We were second now.

"Will you two stop talking about football already? It's all you do", Mama complained as she handed me one of her homemade biscuits, and I nabbed on it quietly, in my own thoughts.

"Do you think you'll beat the States?", Papa asked not long after, making Mama throw her hands up in frustration. I thought about the fact that I'd miss the first game, due to my red card recently, shortly.

"I don't know. We might", I shrugged again. "I feel like we can."

"You smashed it against France. As long as you don't pull a dirty tackle like that again."

"Well, I won't in the first match."

I'd ended up talking to Papa for far longer than what was effective, only falling asleep somewhere around midnight and being woken up no less than six hours later, my parents shooing me out of the house quickly in order to get me to the airport. The goodbye wasn't difficult, because we all knew I would be back in ten days to pick up Magnus, who seemed not at all affected by my departure, having snuggled up to my mother the second she had walked through the door.

I had enough time in the airport to buy a coffee and find my gate with ease. The flight was uneventful as well, as I slept for most of the time the way we had been instructed to, in order to help with the jet lag, and ate a nice little lunch (or was it breakfast?) before I landed in Miami, worn out completely by the amount of miles I'd made in the last two days. It was six in the evening in Germany, and one in Miami.

As I saw Syd and my other teammates in the airport lounge we'd agreed to meet in, I quickly realized I wasn't the only one, as my best friend was sprawled across the leather seats, hands folded underneath her cheek to act as a pillow. It didn't seem very comfortable, but I was still incredibly jealous of her.

"Hey", I yawned as I stood next to Klara, taking her into a short hug. She reciprocated the greeting, but both of us seemed too tired to start a conversation, so we simply waited for the last of us to arrive before finally marching out into Miami.

I hadn't been to the US before, as we had only versed them in friendlies in our own country, but as we sat on the bus, with Laura next to me pointing to all the big cars on the highway, astonished by her surroundings, I couldn't quite follow her enthusiasm as I let my head drop onto her shoulder, falling asleep the instant that my eyes were closed.

By the time we arrived in our hotel, I  seemed to be even less awake than I had been before, and so I snatched the room card from Sydney the second we had been dismissed until dinner, and quickly made my way towards the elevator, falling into the bed exhaustedly.