A Language All Our Own

Should have let the ball go

Practice starts, and the usual agilities begin the day. Ali is thankful that Ashlyn is with the goalkeepers, a group that trains separately outside of scrimmages. Ali quickly jumps over a cone, does a few explosive skiing jumps, then sprints down to where Dawn is directing the team.

Ali wonders how she can help Ashlyn. Hope was her rock when Kyle was doing bad. She held Ali, letting her cry herself to sleep on more than one occasion. And even though Ali wasn't the biggest fan of Hope now, she still has an insane amount of respect for how she supported her throughout those few months. Ali knew that she was not inherently the care-giver type, but she knew she could try. She needed to try for Ashlyn.

The day is slow and long and hot- Ali can feel in her knees how long the year is about to be.

Towards the end of the five hour training session, Jill calls the girls in.

"Alright, we're going to scrimmage," she begins. The girls all have smirks on their faces, ready to leave it all on the field. "BUT," Jill begins- "everyone needs to be conscientious of how hard they are attacking. I don't want any injuries today, and if that means letting a ball go, you let the ball go." Everyone nods their heads compliantly, but there is a sense of disappointment that there is not going to be a full out scrimmage.

They start out 5v5, and Ali enters the ball into play. "Go, go!" Megan shouts across the field. Ali goes into the box, and Megan puts up a perfect cross. Ali jumps, and sees Ashlyn running toward her. She looks towards the goal, seeing how they managed to put up a defense with the small amount of players they had. She feels confident, and turns her head. Then all she feels is the cold hard turf.

"Fuck" Ali says to herself as she gets up from the ground. She momentarily feels around her head to make sure she's okay, then she looks up to see Ashlyn still on the ground. "Shit."

She slowly half crawls half walks over to Ashlyn. Blood is pouring out of her head, staining the light blonde waves of hair around her face. She can hear Ashlyn quietly groaning in pain. She starts coughing, and then the groaning stops all together. As the adrenaline quickly courses through Ali's body, she throws her shirt over her head and puts it under Ashlyn's. "Help!"

Ashlyn's eyes are still closed as Ali tries to turn her over and control the giant gash on the side of her head. She applies pressure with her shirt on the gash, and then quickly tilts the blondes head back to make sure she doesn't choke in the midst of her coughing fits. The doctor makes it over to where Ashlyn was still laying unconscious, and immediately calls 911.

Although shaken, Ali is convinced that she is fine. She is more concerned for Ashlyn. The throbbing in her head is a, though unwelcome, normal feeling after making head to head contact. Her feet shuffle awkwardly beneath her, and she silently pleads with what ever God that might be able to do something that Ashlyn will be okay. Kelley runs over, and puts both her hands on Ali's shoulders. "Alex," she says, her face a bit blurry. "Are you okay?" Ali's eyes squint into a confused look, and Kelley feels as if Ali is looking right through her. "Hey, Ali needs a trainer. Quick!" Ali can only hear Kelley screaming in the background of her jumbled thoughts. "She's gonna pass out get over here!" Kelley screams, annoyed that no one is paying attention. Ali's heart is beating in her throat as the team doctor starts CPR on Ashlyn. And then, she felt nothing.

---

Ali wakes up with a sharp pain in her arm. Opening her eyes, she finds Ashlyn laying in a hospital bed on the opposite side of the room from her. "What the hell," she mumbles under her breath, searching for the familiar feeling of hearing aids behind her ears. No luck.

"Good god Krieger, you could at least get to know a girl before you slice her fucking head open," Ashlyn signs from across the room, using the sign for "warrior" in place of "Krieger".

"First of all, how do you know Sign Language, let alone German?" Ali responds.

"Like I said, you should really get to know a girl before you slice her head open." Ashlyn visibly sighs, and lays her limp hands across her forehead.

Ashlyn is a mystery to Ali. Ashlyn is a mystery to everyone. Her deep set hazel eyes are soft, but they manage to look hurt and concealed all the same. Her cheek bones rise high below her eyes, like they are the walls protecting the delicacy of Ashlyn's internal thoughts. She is soft spoken yet harsh, and after spending almost 20 years having to read people's faces in order to gain a perspective of their emotions, Ali knows that only someone that truly went through hurt could manage the expressions that Ashlyn does.

"What happened?" Ali says out loud. Knowing that her teammate wouldn't be able to see her face, Ashlyn signs back.

"You tried to kill me, I blacked out, then I guess you couldn't handle the blood and you were out too." Ali notices the spot on Ashlyn's head that had been shaved. It is a narrow line that has now been filled in with a mixture of staples and stitches. "You should have let the ball go," Ashlyn continues.

"I ruined my fucking shirt for you, and you're gonna make fun of me blacking out?" Ali says, ignoring that Ashlyn was right about letting the ball go.

Ashlyn raises her hands to speak again. "Well you gave both of us nasty concussions first, so nice one."

Looking at the IV line, Ali realizes that she is being pumped full of morphine. She removes the tape on her skin, then rips out the line. "What the hell are you doing there Warrior?"

"Going back to practice," Ali says, a slight mumble in her voice. She can feel her head weighing her down, like her body has a gravity all its own. Suddenly she realizes how bad it is, and involuntarily plops herself in a chair across from Ashlyn's bed.

"Well to start, its 1 in the morning so practice is probably out of question, and second of all you look like a drunk that just got pulled off the street," Ashlyn signs with an unamused smirk on her face. "Your hearing aids are on the table by the way, Megan figured you'd want them."

"Thanks," Ali says, reaching for her small green hearing aids. Her doctor had recommended getting neutral colored ones, but the forest green had become her signature color after she had picked it at age 11.

Ali puts her hearing aids in, then buries her head into her knees, which she had pulled up to her chest. She tries to process what happened to no avail. All she knows is that there is no escaping the awkwardness now.