Chapter Text
February, 1997
The first soccer game of the season fell on Valentine’s Day. All Travis wanted to do was take Nat out to the fancy restaurant he’d saved up months for, drive her out to the lake near Wiskayok, and fuck her until she couldn’t remember her name.
Instead, he was sitting on bleachers in almost negative degree weather, watching her warm up on the field. Because it mattered to her, because she mattered.
Javi sat next to him, bundled in three jackets and still shivering. “So this is love, huh?” he muttered, stamping his feet against the metal stands just to get some blood circulating in them.
Travis shot him a look, but Javi just smirked back. He was too sharp for his own good sometimes.
On the field, Nat jogged across the frost-bitten field, ponytail bouncing, cheeks flushed from the cold. She didn’t look nervous, she never did, but Travis knew her well enough to catch her tells: the way her jaw tightened imperceptibly, the way she tugged her sleeves down in between warm ups.
When the whistle blew, Nat lit up. This was her in her element, all burning, red-hot fire. She darted down the field, fast and reckless, shoving past defenders and passing the ball to Jackie with that I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude she carried into everything. The crowd groaned when she collided with another girl, both of them going down hard. Nat immediately sprang back up, ready for more.
The ref blew his whistle. “Yellow card, #7, Scatorccio!”
Nat threw her hands up like she couldn’t believe it, already yelling back at the ref. Travis watched Coach Ben drop his head in his hands on the sidelines, his dad crossing his arms in that way he did when he was pissed.
Travis exhaled loudly, rubbing his forehead. It was typical Nat, he knew she had the record for the most yellow cards on the team. Javi laughed. “She’s gonna get kicked out before halftime.”
But then she caught his eye in the stands. Even yards away, he swore he could feel the grin tugging at her lips. She lived for the chaos, and God help him, he loved her for it. It was a bonus that she looked hot as fuck, too.
The Yellowjackets ended up winning by one goal, Nat bruised and sweaty but grinning like she’d already won the damn Nationals trophy. Travis waited until most of the team broke away from the field before jogging down with Javi in tow.
“Nice game,” he said casually, eyes flicking to where Taissa and Van lingered near the fence. He shoved his hands in his pockets, resisting the urge to touch her.
Nat smirked, pushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear. “You mean ‘nice almost getting kicked out.’”
“Yeah, that too,” he responded, trying to hide his smile. Then, he dropped his voice, looking around before speaking. “Hey, meet at my truck in 20? I wanna take you somewhere special.”
Nat grinned, eyes sparkling in that way they only did for Travis. “Deal, Martinez.”
In the locker room, the energy was electric, chatter loud with victory. Jackie stood on a bench triumphantly. “Okay, winners, Pizza Palace to celebrate. Everyone’s coming.” She glanced at Nat pointedly.
Nat toweled off her shower-damp hair, already pulling on her fishnets, skirt, and leather jacket. “Can’t, sorry. Got plans.”
“Ohhhh,” Jackie sing-songed immediately, her smile sharp. “What kind of plans?”
Taissa laughed from where she was shoving her cleats in her bag. “Sounds suspicious. Got a hot date, Scatorccio?”
Mari stuck her head around the lockers. “You know she does, Tai. Probably Aaron Johnson again. Hey, Nat, remember when Lottie caught you two fucking in the–”
“Mind your fucking business, Mar,” Nat snapped, rolling her eyes as she gathered her things.
Jackie gasped, hand pressing on her chest. “Oh my God, you do have a date? Who is it? Is it really Aaron again, because I swear I just saw him with Cindy the other–”
Nat snorted. “Yeah, Jackie, totally. I’m definitely seeing Aaron again after I dumped him for being the worst lay in Jersey.”
The locker room erupted into laughter, but Jackie wasn’t satisfied. She leaned forward, eyes glinting. “You’ve been disappearing a lot, Natalie. I’m just saying, if there is a boy in the picture…”
Nat opened her mouth, already biting out a sharp retort, until Van cut in before she could. “She’s hanging with me. We got a new supply of weed from Matt. High romance movie marathon, y’know?”
The room stilled for a beat. Taissa looked away, a confused look on her features. Jackie’s eyebrows shot up. “With you?”
Van shrugged like it was the most casual thing in the world. Shit, she really was a good liar. “Yeah. Tradition.”
Mari groaned. “That’s so lame.”
“Better than watching you sob about Danny Mears dumping you for his own cousin,” Van shot back.
A ripple of laughter went through the team, and Mari looked away in embarrassment, the subject already dropping. Jackie rolled her eyes, but she moved on, talking a minute a mile to Shauna about how Jeff was taking her out the next day.
Nat lingered by her locker, the tension in her shoulders easing. She looked at Van, who only gave her a small, knowing smile.
“Thanks,” Nat muttered under her breath, flinging her bag over her shoulder.
Van bumped her with her hip, voice low so no one would hear. “Don’t keep Martinez waiting. I could tell by his face that the night will end good for you, if you know what I mean.”
She winked and Nat flushed red. “Shut the fuck up, Palmer.”
With that, she slipped out of the side door , heart thudding with anticipation. She knew exactly where he was waiting–hands shoved deep in his pockets, that messy brown hair falling gently into his eyes.
“You ready?” Travis asked as he opened the passenger door for her.
“Let’s do this, Martinez.”
They drove past the familiar parts of Wiskayok–the gas station where she got her cigarettes, the dark strip mall, the edge of the lake glistening with frozen water under the moon. But then Travis turned down a narrow road Nat didn’t recognize, truck bouncing over uneven ground until he pulled into a clearing.
It wasn’’t much, just a wide open space surrounded by trees, the lake visible through the February bare branches. But Travis had strung up Christmas lights between the trees, a little generator humming nearby. He pulled a blanket from the truck and laid it across the truck bed, a thermos in his hands.
Nat didn’t know what to say. She had expected dinner, maybe, and a night spent tousled in her bed. She never would’ve imagined this. “Martinez…”
Travis rubbed the back of his neck and hopped in the bed of his truck. “It’s not much. I just figured you deserved something better than…y’know, sneaking around in parking lots. Thought you might like it out here.”
For a moment, she couldn’t speak. Then, she climbed into the bed beside him, boots crunching in the slush, and turned to look at him.
“It’s perfect,” she said softly.
Travis poured steaming hot chocolate from the thermos into two dented mugs he’d stolen from his cabinets. Nat sipped hers, the sweetness not even coming close to the warmth she felt somewhere deep in her chest, under her bones.
“This is so…” she trailed off, at a loss for words. She felt compelled to say something, to thank this boy for loving her, but nothing would come out.
“Lame?” Travis offered with a crooked grin.
“Romantic,” she corrected, giving him a look that made his ears burn.
Silence settled between them, hanging in the frosty air. The soft glow of the lights, the rustle of branches–it felt bigger than anything she could name.
Finally, Nat set down her mug and leaned in, lips brushing over his. What started soft quickly turned to heat, Travis’s hands sliding to her hips, his collar fisted in her hands.
She shifted, swinging one leg over him so she was straddling his lap. His fingers tightened, rough hands digging in her fishnets as he held her tighter, kissed her harder. She tugged at his jacket until it slid off his shoulders, the cold air sharply contrasting her warmth.
The cold night faded, replaced by the heat of their bodies pressing together. It wasn’t their first or second, or even third time, but it felt like every time burned brighter than the last.
When he finally sank into her, she bit down on her lip to stifle the sound, fingers clutching his shoulders. He kissed her hard, swallowing the noises she couldn’t stop, his hands steadying her as they found their rhythm.
The blanket wasn’t thick enough, the air was freezing, but none of it mattered. It was him, it was always him: his heartbeat pounding against hers, his voice breaking when he said her name like it was sacred, holy, something to be worshipped.
After, they lay in each other’s arms, breathless.Travis rested his forehead against hers, his smile boyish and so warm it made Nat’s chest ache.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Nat.”
She smiled. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Martinez.”
March, 1997
The snow had melted early that year, the harsh whitness of winter giving way to the green promise of spring. Travis leaned against his truck like he always did after practice, overlooking the empty football field. Nat perched on the hood beside him, a cigarette dangled between her black fingernails.
“Dad’s been on one lately,” Travis muttered, eyes locking on a dandelion springing up from the ground. “Since the season started, it’s like all he cares about is his damn playbook and who’s starting the next game. He yells at me and Javi like…all the time. Fucking sucks.”
Nat flicked her ash, eyeing him. “Yeah, but that’s not new.”
“I guess, but–” Travis exhaled, kicking a rock with his beat-up Converse. “It’s worse now. Mom keeps telling him to back off, but that just makes him angrier. He’s always fucking pissed about something. Yesterday, Javi forgot to take put the trash and he nearly lost it.”
Nat went quiet at that, mindlessly taking a drag, watching the way his fists clenched.
“It’s like nothing’s good enough for him. He’s such a shit dad…he doesn’t even like me.”
Nat stubbed out her cigarette and slid off the hood to stand in front of him. “Travis,” she said, forcing his eyes to meet hers. He looked at her then, really looked, and a hollow laugh cracked into something else–something younger, more vulnerable.
“He’s not gonna stop,” Travis said, quieter now. “Sometimes…sometimes I wish he’d just leave.”
Nat’s throat went dry. She knew better than anyone what it felt like to wish your dad would disappear. And what it felt like when it happened.
Instead, she kissed him, a promise without words. And he kissed back like he understood.
That night, sleep was a losing battle. Nat drifted in and out, the trailer creaking with every gust, the shadows on her wall too sharp, too familiar. When she finally managed to fall asleep, she dreamt.
She dreamt of loud footsteps and the smell of cheap whiskey. Suddenly, she was five, eight, fourteen years old again hiding under her bed. A shadow crept along the floor.
“Natty. I know you’re there.”
And then there were hands that hurt and screams crashing over her in waves and a man’s bloody head.
Nat woke up screaming, blankets twisted around her legs. The trailer was too dark, too empty. She couldn’t breathe in there. Too many memories, too many ghosts pressed down on her from all sides, stealing the air from her lungs.
Before she could even think, Nat was lacing up her boots and slipping out of the back door into the cold night. She didn’t stop walking until she reached the Martinez house on the other side of town, until she could see the soft glow emitting from Travis’s window.
She picked up a small pebble and tossed it. It tapped against the glass softly.
A shadow moved. Then Travis emerged, hair tousled with sleep, a sweatshirt thrown lazily over his bare chest. “Nat? What the hell–”
“Can I come in?” she responded, sharper than she meant.
He blinked at her, but didn’t hesitate. “Sure. Wait there.”
A minute later, the back door creaked open. Travis waved her inside, moving quiet so he wouldn’t wake his parents. Nat slipped behind him without a sound, practiced from the years she tried to be invisible.
The second his bedroom door clicked shut behind them, Nat let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. Travis reached for her, confusion and worry etched in his dark features.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Nat shook her head. “I just…I couldn’t stay there tonight.”
He didn’t push, or ask for details just yet. He just pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her hair gently. She stiffened at first, like she was still learning that touch didn’t always have to hurt. Then, she softened, curling into him, pressing her face into the soft cotton of his sweatshirt.
Travis felt like the sun and smelled like home.
He led her to the bed, pulling her into his strong arms. She curled instinctively into him, but it didn’t stop the heaviness in her chest.
Nat stared at the ceiling, body wound tight. Sleep wasn’t coming. Her mind was still lost in the dream, in past years, in the memories of violence and sleepless nights.
“Nat,” Travis whispered in the dark. He must’ve felt her stiffness, her breathing. “You awake?”
“Yeah,” she whispered back.
For a long moment, she didn’t say anything else. The silence pressed heavy. Finally, she let the words slip out, jagged and cracked. “I had a dream. About…about him. I was little again, hiding under the bed. He found me. He always fucking did. And it always hurt.”
Travis didn’t need to ask who. He pulled her closer, arm snaking around her waist. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
Nat let out a bitter laugh. “For what? You didn’t do it.”
“No,” he said, quiet but certain. “But I shouldn’t have talked about all that shit with my dad earlier. You’ve go enough of your own…” He trailed off. “I just...I didn’t think.”
Nat turned to look at him, eyes adjusting to the faint glow of the streetlight that illuminated his features. “Don’t do that. Don’t make it a competition. Your dad’s an asshole too, you have every right to talk about him to me. Just because mine was shit doesn’t mean you can’t tell me about yours.”
Travis stilled a bit, lips parted like he wanted to argue. Instead, he reached out and cupped her cheek, thumb brushing along her sharp cheekbone. “You scare me sometimes, Nat,” he admitted. “How strong you are. How much you’ve lived through.”
Her throat closed. “You don’t get it. I’m not strong. I just–survived.”
“That’s strength,” he muttered, forehead pressing against hers. “Even if you don’t think so. You never gave up. And I love you for it. I love you so much it hurts sometimes.”
The words sat between them, heavy and terrifying and warm all at once.
“I love you, Travis,” she whispered back.
And when the morning light came, he was still there, wrapped up in her, in the warmth she brought.
April, 1997
The Martinez house was blessedly empty for once. Their mom was working late, and their dad was going over plays with Ben. Nat sprawled across Travis’s bed, fishnets torn at the knee, his hoodie hanging loose around her shoulders.
Travis kissed her like he couldn’t breathe without her, like she was the sun and the moon and the stars, the universe personified. One hand tangled in her air, the other splayed across her thighs. They’d been sneaking little moments like these whenever they could but this, empty house, no one around, felt dangerous in a way Nat craved.
Her hands slid under his shirt, cold fingertips skating over warm skin. He groaned into her mouth, lips bruising hers, and she tugged him closer, both of them moving with that urgency that came when they risked too much. And then–
“What the hell?”
They broke apart so fast Nat nearly fell off the bed. Javi stood in the doorway, backpack half-off his shoulder, eyebrows raised high.
Travis cursed under his breath. “Jesus, Javi–knock, maybe?”
Javi face just split into a big grin, and he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “You guys are loud.”
Nat flushed red at that, biting back a laugh. Travis exhaled slowly, trying and failing hiding his own smile. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”
Javi plopped down at the edge of the bed, flinging his backpack on the ground. Nat shot Travis a look before lightly shoving Javi with her foot. “Way to ruin the mood, kid.”
Javi made a face and pretended to throw up before grabbing the PlayStation controllers from Travis’s desk. “Well, since you’re already here, Nat, you’re on my team. I’m way better than Travis.”
Travis protested, but Nat was already taking the controller from Javi, a smirk tugging at her lips. “C’mon, Martinez. Afraid of getting beat by your girlfriend?”
He took the remaining controller and kissed the top of her head. “Never, Scatorccio.”
And that was how the night went: burnt pizza rolls, Nat heckling Travis as her and Javi doubled-teamed him. It wasn’t quite what Travis had planned, but watching Nat cross-legged on the carpet with his little brother, it felt almost better.
Nat left just before eleven, pulling Travis’s hoodie tight as she slipped out of the back door. Travis lingered by the window until the beat-up headlights on her shitty car that worked half of the time disappeared down the street.
When he turned back, Javi was sitting on his bed, chewing on the last of the pizza rolls. His face was unreadable in the dim light, caught somewhere between annoying little brother and something older, sharper.
“You really like her,” Javi said finally, not a question.
Travis dropped on the mattress beside him, shoulders heavy. “Yeah. I do.”
Javi nodded, like he’d expected that. “So what’s the plan if we go to Nationals? And after? What if you go to college somewhere far away? What–”
“Javs,” Travis interjected. “Enough with the questions. But…I don’t know. I just got into Rutgers, so that’s probably where I’ll go. I’m just–not ready to think about that yet.. And we’ve been careful, we can survive a week in Seattle.”
“Careful?” Javi snorted. “I walked in on you two basically swallowing each other’s faces. Is that your version of careful?”
Travis shoved him lightly, but there was no heat behind it. “Shut up.”
Javi grinned, then sobered up a little. “Graduation’s coming up. You should probably start thinking, Trav.”
That landed like a stone in Travis’s chest. He didn’t want to think about a life where Nat wasn’t there, even if it was just college. Fuck, he didn’t even know if she was going to college. The future loomed above them, but he was powerless to do anything about it. That scared him more than anything.
“I know,” he muttered, studying the ceiling.
Javi nudged him. “For what it’s worth, I think she’s good for you, Nat. You seem happier than I think I’ve ever seen you. Plus, you’re less of an asshole now.”
Travis scoffed, but his throat worked, words stuck somewhere behind his teeth. All he could manage was, “Thanks, Javs.”
Javi shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, and leaned back on the bed. Travis knew it was.
May, 1997
The game that would send the Yellowjackets to Nationals was brutal. An airy spring had given way to an early summer of sun and heat and sweat. The Yellowjackets had clawed their way through the season, but this time it felt different. Higher stakes, more pressure, the need to be something in a town full of nothing pressing in their gut.
And Nat, Nat was fire. She took hits from the other, bigger team, threw herself back up, and played like she was possessed. Travis couldn’t breathe the entire second half, watching as she cut across the field, bruises already forming on her knees, blonde hair stuck to her face with sweat.
The score was tied when the clock dipped under two minutes. Jackie shouted plays, Taissa pushed the ball down the center, and then it was at Nat’s feet.
Nat had always liked soccer for two reasons: the fact that Van was on the team, and the control she had. And in this moment, she had total control. She wasn’t just the ‘trailer trash,’ burnout-slut anymore. She was Natalie fuckin’ Scatorccio, best midfielder New Jersey had seen in decades.
So when Jackie called out, “Nat! Nat! Over here!”, Nat cut left, dodged a defender, and passed it effortlessly.
Jackie swerved another player, cicadas and cheers fading out–and let the ball fly. It sailed past the keeper, hit the net. The whistle blew.
The crowd erupted. Jackie threw her hands up, Shauna already at her side. Nat raced from the midfield to the goal, victory echoing through the slow, syrup air. She disappeared in a blur of yellow and blue, sweat and tears. On the bleachers, Travis swore his heart would tear open from pride. Javi whooped beside him, jumping up and down in ecstasy.
All he could see was her, always, grinning like she’d just stolen the sun and his heart with it.
Nat caught his eye from the field, basking in the pure love reflecting back at her. She thought this was the happiest she’d ever been in all of her seventeen years.
Jackie Taylor, homecoming queen and Wiskayok’s perfect princess, was crying, grass stains at bruises on her knees.
“We’re going to motherfucking Nationals!”
Two weeks later, they were boarding the plane, private and paid for by one Mr. Matthews. Travis adjusted the strap on his duffel, grinning as he watched Nat marvel at the luxury of it all. Javi trailed behind him, his Game Boy tucked into his hoodie pocket.
The Yellowjackets buzzed with energy, their victory still running high in their veins.
“Next stop, Seattle, baby!” Jackie shouted, and the girls cheered. Even Coach Ben cracked a smile.
As Travis and Javi took their seats, his eyes searched for her. He found Nat sitting diagonal to him, leather jacket on, headphones around her neck. She turned back and caught his glance for a second, lips turning up into a quick, secretive smile.
Javi elbowed him. “Careful,” he warned. “Don’t get caught, dumbass.”
Travis swallowed hard and nodded. But all he wanted to do was take Nat’s perfect lips and press them to his own. She held his gaze, and it seemed as though the same thought was reflecting in her eyes.
“Hey, Nat,” Lottie said from beside her. “Want a Fruit by the Foot? Mari’s got like, a whole pack of them, and–”
Nat turned away from him, leaving coldness where her eyes had just been.
Fuck, he thought. Just a week. Only a week.
The hotel was nicer than anywhere Travis had stayed before. Carpeted hallways, the faint smell of chlorine in the air, girls shrieking as they fought over who gets which bed. Coach Ben did not seem to happy at being a glorified babysitter.
Travis dropped his duffel in the corner of the room he was sharing with Javi, who immediately flopped on the bed, headphones on. He shot him a look that said, Don’t even think about trying to sneak out, and took out his GameBoy. Travis sighed.
An hour before lights out, a knock came. Three short taps. Travis pulse jumped. He opened the door a crack, and saw her–Natalie, looking reckless and gorgeous, eyeliner smeared from the flight, hair loose around her shoulders.
“Nice place,” she whispered, slipping past him like she owned the room and him with it.
“Nat–” Travis hissed, glancing at Javi, who was definitely watching them from his place on the bed.
Nat just grinned, grabbed him by the collar, and kissed him. Quick, hungry, like she’d been waiting all day. She tasted like smoke and the sun and an underlying sweetness.
“Jesus,” he muttered, hands at her waist before he forced himself to pull back. “We’re gonna get caught.”
She arched an eyebrow. “So? The whole team’s asleep anyways. Lottie thinks I’m taking a walk, so she won’t wait up for me.”
Before he could argue, Javi slipped off his headphones. “Please, don’t do it in here,” he groaned. “I don’t need the nightmares.”
Nat laughed, low. “Don’t worry, kid. I found us a spot somewhere safe.”
Her ‘safe spot’ ended up being a balcony, hidden at the end of the hallway. It overlooked the city of Seattle, still buzzing with life, so unlike Wiskayok.
The lights sparkled in a way Travis had never really seen before. It was odd, knowing each light was a life, a hidden bubble of love and sadness and everything else cities bring. It thrilled him to know that they were apart of it all, they were another secret harbored in the twinkling lights.
Nat lit up a cigarette with her silver lighter. The smoke trickled out of her mouth, spilling into the night air, into the soft glow illuminating her face.
Travis leaned against the railing beside her. The cool metal bit into his arms as he watched her, heart still racing from the thrill of it all.
“You really think this is safe?” he uttered, looking to the dark hallway.
Nat smirked, flicking ash into the night. “As safe as it gets, Martinez. Unless you’d rather make out with me in front of Javi–”
“God, no,” he groaned, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes. “He’d never let me live it down.”
Nat laughed, the sound rough and real, then took another drag before passing him the cigarette. “Here.”
Travis took it, but more just to feel her fingers on his than to actually smoke. Over the months, he’d gotten better at it, nothing like the boy who coughed up a lung the first time he spoke to her.
He exhaled, letting the smoke curl in front of him. This time, he didn’t cough. Nat looked proud. “Now you’re cool, Martinez.”
“Only because of my cool girlfriend,” he muttered, and before she could make another joke, he kissed her. This time slower, deeper, not rushed like in the hotel room. Her lips were warm, flavored with smoke.
When they pulled apart, Nat studied him, one hand wrapped in his unruly hair, the other clutching her cigarette. “You’re different here.”
He tapped his fingers against her waist. “Different how?”
“Like…” She shrugged, flicking ash to the ground. “Like you’re not carrying the whole world on your shoulders. Like maybe you can just–breathe.”
Travis swallowed, looking to the glittering skyline. If he squinted hard enough, he wondered if he could see the Puget Sound. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m with you.”
She smiled. Not sharp or teasing, but soft, almost shy. “Careful, Martinez. Start saying shit like that, I might believe you.”
“Good,” he said simply, hands moving up to cradle her face.
They stayed like that for a while, the city buzzing below them, the night wrapping them in secrets and smoke. Eventually, Nat stubbed out her cigarette on the railing, tossed the butt into the darkness, and climbed into his lap, straddling him like she belonged there.
“You know what I was thinking about today?” she breathed, breath hot against his ear.
“What?” His voice came out low, strained.
“That after Nationals,” she whispered, brushing her lips against his jaw, “we don’t have to sneak around anymore. We can just…be.”
His chest tightened, both from the thought and the way her cold hands were sliding up his hoodie. “You mean it?”
Nat nodded, pressing her forehead against his. “Yeah. I’m done hiding. I want all of Wiskayok and the whole damn world to know you’re mine.”
Travis kissed her again, desperate, hands gripping her hips to ground himself against her body. Everything around them–Nationals, the pressure, his dad–blurred into the glow of the city lights and the feel of her against him.
Nationals, First Game
The air at Nationals was heavier. It carried the weight of the coaches, the collegiate scouts, the parents, the high school girls who had clawed their way to this moment. It all pressed on the field like gravity.
Travis sat by Javi in the stands, trying to look casual, but his whole body was wound tight. His dad stood like a statue on the sidelines, watching the girls warm up with a stoic face, that sharp-eyed intensity that always scared the shit out of Travis.
But all Travis could see was Nat, always. She looked untouchable in her uniform, hair tied back, sharp focus on her face. He knew she was nervous–he could read her like no one else–but from here, she looked like fire waiting to burn. She was gasoline in a match-stick world.
The whistle blew. From the start, it was chaos, the other team pressing hard and fast, and the Yellowjackets scrambled to keep up. Jackie barked orders on the field, Tai and Lottie snapping into place, and then there was Nat, darting across the pitch like she didn’t have bones to break.
She went after every loose ball, sliding, cutting, juking the rival team. Her first pass was intercepted, but it didn’t matter. Nat just grinned, feral, and chased it down like it was personal.
“Jesus,” Javi muttered beside him. “She’s gonna break someone’s ankle out there.”
“She’s always like that,” Travis said, voice tight with pride and something deeper.
By halftime, the score was still 0-0. The tension in the stadium was suffocating. Nat jogged to the sideline, chugging water, jaw clenched. He caught her glance from the stands, just for a second, and when their eyes met, she smirked like she’d already won.
In the second half, she turned it up.
In the 62nd minute, she stole the ball clean off their striker, sprinted down the wing with a defender clawing at her, and crossed it perfectly into Jackie’s path. Jackie finished with a header, and the net rippled.
The crowd erupted, Travis with it. 1-0, Yellowjackets.
Travis was on his feet before he even realized, adrenaline and pride coursing through his veins. Nat threw her arms up, grinning as her teammates swarmed her. Travis swore she snuck another glance at him, sharper now, triumphant.
The final whistle sealed it. First game of Nationals, Yellowjackets.
Nat walked off the field flushed and sweaty, hair sticking to her temples, still buzzing with energy. She didn’t look tired. If anything, she looked hungrier.
“Second game in two hours,” Coach Ben reminded, corralling the girls to the locker room. “Eat, rest, hydrate. It’s not over, yet.”
Travis wanted nothing more than to run to her, to kiss her face and tell her how proud he was. Instead, he shoved his hands into his jeans, forcing himself to stop staring while Javi nudged him.
“She’s a machine,” Javi said.
“Yeah,” Travis agreed. His girl was a fucking powerhouse. “She is.”
By midnight, the hotel was silent. The girls’ rooms had quieted after hours of shrieking and gossip. Travis waited until his dad’s low voice talking strategy with Ben finally stopped.
When Javi was softly snoring, he slipped out. Nat was already waiting by the emergency exit, leather jacket on, eyeliner smudged like hell from the day, but her grin was sharp.
“Thought you bailed,” she teased, linking her arm with his like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Not a chance.”
They slipped into the night, the streets of Seattle buzzing around them. Somehow, they ended up outside a neon-lit dive bar, the kind of place that didn’t card if you were hot enough. Nat took out a cigarette and lit it.
“You down?” she smirked.
Travis hesitated only a second before nodding. “Yeah. Fuck it.”
Inside, it reeked of smoke and stale beer. A band played in the corner, all distortion and feedback. The bartender looked questioningly at them, but slid two cheap beers their way after Nat flashed a sultry grin at him. Nat clinked hers against his, her smile wide, free.
“To winning the whole damn thing,” she said.
“To the best motherfuckin’ player I know,” he responded.
They slid into a cracked vinyl booth, graffiti carved on the table. Travis couldn’t stop staring at her: the way the neon lights caught her face, how alive she looked outside of Wiskayok, outside of everything.
For a while, they just talked–about how his dad had snapped at Javi again after the game, about how Jackie would not stop bitching about Jeff (and the way Shauna looked at her when she said that.) But then Nat grew quiet, spinning her beer bottle with her hands.
“So…” she said finally, voice low. “A scout talked to me today.”
Travis’s head snapped up. “What?”
“Yeah. Rutgers. Full ride on a soccer scholarship.” She shrugged, trying to play it cool, but there was a flicker of fear in her eyes. Like if she imagined wanting it, it might disappear. “Guess they liked what they saw.”
Travis’s chest felt like it might crack open. “Natalie. That’s–that’s fucking amazing!”
She snorted. “Yeah, well. Don’t know if I’ll actually go. Kinda hard to picture myself not screwing up.”
“Don’t say that,” he said sharply, leaning over the sticky counter. “You deserve it. You’re the best damn player on that field, and everyone knows it.”
Her mouth curved into a small smile. “Yeah? Even better than the precious, homecoming queen team captain?”
“Jackie wishes she could touch you on your worst day,” Travis said, no hesitation.
Nat rolled her eyes, but the smile lingered. She took a sip of her beer, tapping her cigarette on an ashtray. Then she tilted her head. “What about you, Martinez? You planning on rotting in Wiskayok forever?”
He took a breath. “No, I uh–I got into Rutgers too.”
She froze, eyes wide. “You’re fucking with me.”
He shook his head. “Applied for business. Got accepted last month.”
For a moment, they just stared at each other, the noise of the bar fading into nothing. Then Nat laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Holy shit. We’re going to the same college.”
“Yeah,” Travis said softly. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, Scatorccio.”
She leaned across the table, kissed him like it wasn’t just about tonight but about tomorrow, about all the tomorrows they didn’t know if they’d get. It was rough, hungry, but underneath it was something steady, terrifyingly close to hope.
When she pulled back, her eyes searched his. “I can’t wait for everyone to know you’re mine.”
Travis’s heart hammered. His heart jumped as he realized in just a few days, he would to be able to go out with her, to show his amazing, fucking hot girlfriend off to everybody he knew. “You don’t even know how long I’ve waited for that.”
Nat smirked, but it was softer than usual. She stubbed out the used cigarette. “Guess I gotta get used to being your girl in public, huh?”
He grinned, sliding his hands into hers under the table. “Guess so.”
May, 1997, Nationals FInal
The air was warm, the kind that pressed on your chest and made it hard to breathe. The final whistle echoed across the stadium, followed by a roar that swallowed everything. After days of blood, sweat, and tears, the Yellowjackets had done it. They were Nationals Champions.
Nat bent over, hands on her knees, chest heaving as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. Sweat dripped into her eyes, her legs hurt like hell, but none of it mattered. They had won, mostly thanks to her.
Her teammates rushed together, screaming, crying, fused together in a pile of yellow and blue. Jackie was already hugging Shauna, Taissa was crying into Van’s shoulder, and Lottie was screaming her throat raw.
Nat turned, searching the stands instinctively. And there he was.
Travis, standing in the middle of the bleachers with Javi beside him, eyes locked on hers. He looked proud–no, more than proud. Like she was the only person on that field, the only person in his whole universe.
And suddenly, Nat couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t keep it a secret a moment longer, couldn’t pretend like this wasn’t the perfect moment to finally tell the world they belonged to each other, forever.
Before she could second-guess herself, she was running–not to the huddle, not to Coach Ben, but straight toward the sideline where Travis was climbing down the stairs. He met her halfway on the grass.
“Nat–” he started, but she cut him off by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. Hard, desperate. She’d been holding this back for months and finally, finally let it all go, out in the open in front of the Yellowjackets and parents and coaches and God.
The stadium seemed to erupt louder, a ripple of cheers and shocked laughter spreading through the crowd. Behind her, Nat could hear the team shouting, half in disbelief, half in celebration.
When she pulled back, breathless, Travis’s face was lit up like he’d just held the sun in his hands. “You sure about this?” he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers.
Nat smirked, her chest still heaving. “Don’t care anymore. Let them all know you’re mine, Martinez.”
He kissed her again, softer this time, and she felt big arms encircle her, lifting her feet off the ground. Around them, cheers of victory swelled: Jackie yelling, Van’s wolf-whistle cutting through the noise, Javi clapping like an idiot.
But for Nat, it was just this. Him. Them.
For once in her life, it felt like she wasn’t running from something. She was running toward it. Toward him, toward a future that was better than she ever could’ve imagined.
When she finally turned back to the team, Travis’s arm looped around he waist, Van called out with a grin, “Look like Wiskayok is gonna have a lot more to gossip about!”
Nat just flipped her off, but she was smiling, really smiling, as the team pulled her into their victory tunnel. Travis stayed close, his hand brushing hers every chance he got.
She was a champion. And now, they weren’t a secret anymore.
When Natalie Scatorrico looked back on her life, she always said this was in the top three happiest moments of her life. The first and second being her marriage and the birth of her daughter, of course.
But right now, in this moment, she was free.