When Ayanna woke up in the morning, she planned on having a big breakfast, writing a reading response, then spending the afternoon stoned again. In the cafeteria, Jane was waiting for her. She was wearing neon-green soccer shorts, a T-shirt with the phrase Goal x Hunting x Association on it and on the back, just her first name, JANE, with the number sixty-nine. She was wearing cat ears and carrying two pairs of keeper’s gloves.

“You’re still wearing your pajamas. We have to be there in twenty minutes.”

Ayanna grabbed a banana and a cup of to-go coffee and changed. She put on a tank top, her old black soccer shorts, the long socks, and threw her shin pads and cleats into a bag. As she was tying her hair back, Ayanna realized that despite feeling a little off from the night before, this was the most she had felt like herself in years. She stepped over the pens and pencils on the floor and tried to remember when she’d bumped into them.

“I have a shirt for you,” Jane said. Ayanna opened the door and took it. Number ninety-nine.

On the walk over, Jane explained the team’s current drama. Their usual striker had broken up with their sweeper, and the team was taking sides. Multiple times she informed Ayanna about the necessity of scoring goals in this game, that a win would really bring the team back together. So far, they were top of the league despite being all women and artsy enbies. She did not explain why the team had to be brought back together. Injuries were alluded to as “complex interpersonal relationships.” They had beaten the bro team, Hat Trick Titans, 1–0 on a muddy Tuesday night. Several members of the team were still talking about getting a commemorative tattoo for that victory, but Jane thought it was cheesy to do things like that for an intermural soccer team, especially in year one.

“Why did they break up?” Ayanna asked. “What did the striker do to have to quit the team?”

Jane continued talking. The team they were going to play wasn’t very good, so it would be a bad omen if they lost. People were already out drinking, preparing for the football game that was hours and hours away. Two frat dudes were screaming at each other about who had cheated in a game of cornhole. They were so loud that Ayanna’s head ached. She longed for the big breakfast she had promised herself, but instead drank for a long time from Jane’s water bottle.

“Acre can really dehydrate you,” Jane said. “Next time, make sure to have two Gatorades. One for when you take it, and one to drink immediately the next morning.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Jane rolled her eyes.

“Do you know someone named Marlie Evans?” Ayanna asked.