strangers // m. zuccarello

February 11th

"Freya's got herself a Ranger."

"Dude, you dated Brock Osweiler. Just because my friend is actually good at his sport and not extremely overpaid, doesn't mean anything."

I was the only one of our friend group that hadn't dated a big name athlete and they were trying to get me to join the club.

"Hey, she fucked Ronaldo."

"I did not. And everyone who keeps spreading that rumor is going to make me ruin every girl's dream and say he has a small dick."

Chicharito, however, is very good at what he does. On and off the field.

Later, Mats called and I ignored. He called and I ignored. This went through about five cycles before I answered.

"Yes?"

"So about that date."

"We haven't seen each other in how long and you want a date?"

He ignored me in our hometown. Ignored me while we're both in New York. He just was apparently too good for the girl that left to pursue her dream. Just like he did.

"It's preseason. I don't have time for this." My accent came out thick, as it always did when I was mad.

Not only was it NWSL, but we would be trying to make the Women's World Cup later in the year. And that was pretty important.