Page 56 of Anatomy of Us

She loses it.

They counter. Lucía heads it out for a corner.

Nothing comes from it, and we head into halftime down 0–1.

**

In the locker room, Hades doesn’t yell.

It’s worse.

She stands in front of us with her arms crossed, staring each of us down like she can read every thought, every doubt, every fear.

“Forty-five minutes,” she says at last. “Forty-five minutes for everything you worked for this year. To prove you deserve to be here.”

Silence.

“Méndez. Herrera.”

Jade and I lift our heads.

“You’re not connecting. You’re playing next to each other, not with each other. Not as a team.” She lets the pause stretch until it hurts. “Fix it.”

She doesn’t tell us how. No specific instructions. Just that look that says, you’re pros, I know there’s rivalry, solve your own mess.

Jade and I trade a glance.

“More triangles,” I say under my breath. “Short one-twos. No hero balls if it’s not there.”

“And we press together when we lose it,” Jade says. “Both of us at once. Not one waiting for the other.”

I nod.

**

The second half starts different.

I look for Jade. She looks for me. Quick give-and-goes, matched runs that scramble their midfield. For the first time all game, we keep the ball.

Minute fifty-three. I win a ball in the middle. I play it to Jade. She pops it back first touch. I carry it three steps. I feed her again. She finds Jamie overlapping on the wing.

Jamie whips a cross into the box.

Iris rises between two defenders. Header.

Their keeper punches it away. The ball drops to Jade at the top of the area and she hits it from distance.

Wide. Inches.

The stadium releases a sound that’s frustration and hope fused into one roar.

Minute seventy-seven, they start to sit back and protect the lead. They build a blue wall between us and the goal.

Jade gets it in the center. She scans. No clean option.

I drift into space, pulling one of their players with me, and a lane opens.

“Jade!”