When Hope retreated to her room, she found her best friend curled up on her bed. The forward's long hair was tangled and fell down her side in awkward, messy clumps. Her pale green eyes were clouded with tears that dripped down her cheeks. Billows of sadness hung in the air and Hope knew something was wrong immediately.

"Lex?" the keeper questioned quietly, taking a step closer to the bundle.

There was no response.

"Alex? What's wrong?" Hope asked, peering closer at her best friend. The forward let out a soft whimper, dragging the twisted sheets closer to her sweaty body. Alex's eyes leaked onto the bed sheets, forming a small puddle on the mattress.

The goalkeeper sat on the edge of the bed, leaning closer to Alex and running a hand down the damp sheets. "Honey, what's wrong?"

Still, no response. The brunette looked at her best friend with a frown of sympathy and confusion. She wanted- needed- to know what was upsetting the younger girl, yet feared that if she asked her, Alex would only become more unsettled.

So, Hope did not ask. She simply sat next to her best friend as Alex sobbed into her chest unceasingly, hands clutching at her jacket. Hope held the forward in silence, rocking her slowly as her tears soaked her chest. A tiny lapse let Alex pull away, blinking lashes heavy with tears, before she collapsed again, her howls of misery worsening. The pain must have come in waves, minutes of sobbing broken apart by short pauses for recovering breaths, before hurling herself back into the outstretched arms of her grief.

Alex's hurt green eyes looked as if a ripe tropical forest had been hit with a hurricane as they gazed into Hope's, the goalkeeper protecting the cracked spheres. Hope's tee shirt was heavy with the other's tears, which had leaked onto her warm skin, burning the surface with the temptation and urge to wound whoever had hurt Alex.

After several minutes had passed and the green eyes had taken a breath, Hope pulled away from the hug and faced Alex. "What happened?" She asked, reaching out and placing a hand on the forward's shoulder.

Avoiding her gaze, Alex's eyes searched the damp mattress, looking for a way to go back in time to the beginning of the year. She hiccuped. "Ke- Ke- Kelley... wr-o-o-te me a le-le-letter..." she stuttered, letting a splinter of air escape through her mouth, floating past Hope.

"What did this letter say?" Hope asked calmly.

"Sh-she said th-that she di-didn't want to date me an-anymo-more..."

Hope froze. "What?" she asked, a cold feeling soaking her body.

"Please don't make me repeat it. I know you heard me," Alex retorted softly, leaning back into the bed with closed eyes as drops of grief leaked out of the corners.

The goalkeeper sat in silence for a moment, letting the news drip over her like an egg being smashed against her head and slowly, not too gently finding its way down her neck. The forward sniffle brought Hope back to reality, her head shaking with a startled jolt and scratching the side of her head.

"Lex..." Hope muttered, embracing her best friend tightly.

"Mmhmnumn," Alex mumbled into Hope's shoulder. "What are you gonna do now?"

Hope looked at Alex with a determined gaze. "I'm going to find Kelley and murder her."

-

"What's this?" Ali murmured quietly, pulling the piece of paper out of her girlfriend's backpack. The water was still running in the shower, meaning that Ashlyn was being lazy and taking her time, leaving Ali in a panic of finding the charger the woman had borrowed before her phone died.

The navy blue bag was a total and utter mess, just like its owner. Content was spilled on the bed and on the floor, and the overstuffed container was ripped and slightly damp. The paper Ali had pulled out was wet as well and faded. It looked like it was from ten to fifteen years ago; the cringey filter and the bland clothing gave it away.

Two girls were standing in front of a wooden park bench, scrunchies holding up their thin hair and graphic tee shirts hugging their bodies. They were obviously in Florida, the palm trees boldly standing out in the background of the picture.

The young one on the left was obviously Ashlyn, two pigtails of white-blonde hair sticking out of her head. But the other one. Ali's breath caught in her throat and she coughed once, twice to breathe again. Peering closer, the defender blinked at the brunette's familiar pink jacket and her light blue jeans. The pink converse in the tiniest size possible covered her feet. A pink bracelet was wrapped around her wrist three times, some thread hanging off her tiny arm.

Ali tore her gaze away from the picture, blinking rapidly. She could feel her heartbeat increase in pace inside her, and her fingers started twitching nervously, her anxiety showing. She willed herself not to look down. She didn't want to. She didn't know how. But she had too. She needed to.

The worn pink thread dangled off her wrist as she clutched the picture shakily in her left hand.

-