Chapter Text
Tobin never minded being the only girl on Ridgway High’s soccer team. She’d been the only girl on every soccer team she’d played on since she was 9 and Becca C had taken a ball to the face. Becca’s nose had erupted with blood. She and her mother were so hysterical that she’d never returned which had sucked, because Becca C’s mom was also the soccer coach and the team–the town’s only girls' team–had folded when none of the other parents filled in. All because of some 8 year old’s misplaced kick and a little blood.
Tobin never minded being the only girl on a soccer team because it meant she got to keep playing soccer. The only thing that Tobin loved more than soccer was Him and her family. She loved when a field still had morning dew on it and the ball slid just right. She loved the feeling of practicing a trick for hours and then showing it off to her teammates like it was effortless. She loved being a Gooner and shouting at the top of her lungs when Thierry Henry slid in celebration. She loved passing a perfectly weighted pass onto the foot of her teammate. She loved the crunch of a green grape eaten on the sidelines at half time. She loved the swoosh of the net when her shot went in. She loved soccer--stinky shin guards and all.
Tobin never minded because they respected her as a player. They knew how good she was. She hadn’t had to deal with the sort of bullshit she imagined other girls dealt with–riding the bench or having her own teammates refuse to pass her the ball. Well, she had back when she was 10 and had first joined the A-Team. But that had lasted all of one practice. There had been an open try out for the U-12 team. She’d been on fire. She’d outshot everyone and outlasted everyone in the juggling contest. Coach had to tell her to stop juggling because she’d kept going, and he could tell she wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon. It was clear that Coach was impressed. But even so, when the final roster was posted, she remembered Carl had grumbled loud enough for her to hear, “I can’t believe we’ve got a girl on our team. There’s no way we’ll beat the Daredevils now.” The next practice when they played 7v7 she stole the ball from Sergio, nutmegged River, and then faked out Carl before scoring in the upper 90. She could tell Carl was pissed. But River was River. If they’d been a girl’s team, she would have called him the queen bee. Lucky for her, there was nothing River loved more than winning and soccer and winning at soccer. When he knew Coach wouldn’t overhear him, he went up to Tobin and said, “Holy shit, dude! That was so cool.” He then began doing a fake bow and saying, “Teach me your ways, Oh Soccer God.” The rest of the team–-especially a lackey like Carl-–had fallen in line. She’d been one of the guys ever since, and at this point, being able to hang with the bros or even surpass them was a point of pride.
Tobin never minded being the only girl on the team because every practice, every game she was playing with her best friends. The guys on her team weren’t dicks to her. Or when they were, it was with the same level of idiocy that they’d treat anyone else they were ribbing. These were the guys she skated to Shaw’s with for Cool Ranch Doritos and threw axes and throwing stars in the woods with. These were the guys she played laser tag with. These were the homies she went to sleep overs with and watched The Mighty Ducks with. They were her team and she was their teammate.
Tobin never minded being the only girl on the team. Not even when she didn’t have anyone to borrow a tampon from. (She’d done some classic tp wadding and the resulting sweaty, paper crumbles and chafing made it so she never forgot to have a stocked box in her soccer bag at all times.) The guys didn’t say stupid shit about her period or make period jokes except that one time Pinoe reenacted the scene from She’s the Man ver batim. The guys were chill about it. One day when Sergio noticed them in her bag, he let her know that his mom and sisters used the same brand that she did. And honestly, she didn't want her period let alone want to talk about it with anyone. And if she did, she could always talk to Perry or Katie.
Tobin never minded when they had away games and the opposing team didn’t unlock the girl’s locker room. She changed in front of the guys and showered at home a few hours later. So what? All she had to do was keep an extra-strength Old Spice deodorant for those days and the guys bro-ed out on which scent would get them the most ladies.
Tobin never minded because she was one of the guys. They talked about what mattered most: the beautiful game, what country had the best odds of winning the next World Cup, whether they’d rather be in Pokemon or Yu-Gi-Oh!, and who they could con a dollar out of to get something from the vending machine. Even when puberty hit and she started to develop, she was still one of the guys. And if she felt Kling and River’s wandering eyes, it was only natural. How many times had she looked at someone’s abs or calves? They were all fit as fuck and who didn’t like to look at muscle definition? They were teenagers in locker rooms for fucks sake. (And if the looks happened outside of the locker rooms, too, well…she didn’t really let herself think about it.)
Tobin never minded being the only girl on Ridgway High’s soccer team until the day she wasn’t.