DancingKitsune ; Sabriel, Laurie, Teresa, and Armand are in 8th grade, so they're around 13, 14 years old.

Jamie, the lacrosse team coach for Donavech Middle School’s Lacrosse Team, the Firebirds, blew her whistle three short times. “Alright girls! That’s it, take a seat!” She called out to everyone on the field. With that, all of the girls (and Armand, who was bribed into going to tryouts) stopped where they were and went to sit on the bleachers.

Jamie walked in front of us all at the base of the bleachers with her hands on her hips, the left one holding a clipboard at the same time. “Okay, now that try-outs are over with, I’m going to read the list of who made it onto the Lacrosse team. There will be five midfielders, three defenders, three attackmen, and one goaltender. When I call your name, come up and get a jersey.” She pulls the clipboard in front of her and starts to read the names off.

“Nicole, Ashlee, Mandra, Elizabeth, Colette; midfielders.” A short brunette with long hair, a tall blonde with short hair, a girl with purple highlights, and a girl with long black hair stood up and made their way down. Jerseys numbered 3, 16, 19, 24, and 82 were taken.

“Laurie,” Laurie jumps up on our bleacher, shouting in excitement. She races down the bleachers three at a time and grabs number 47. She’s already halfway back up before the coach starts the second name. I roll my eyes at her.

“Rachel, Sabriel; attackers.” I punch my fist in victory and run on down the bleachers to grab my jersey. I grab number 46 and take my time going back up the bleachers. I rub my fingers on the material of the jersey, amazed at its fresh and new feel. The red base of the jersey was bold yet dark, and the highlight of gold on it made it vibrant.

I barely sat down before I realized that Teresa was already halfway down the bleachers, she was one of the defenders, along with a blonde named Marie and a ginger haired named Kayla.

Armand sat next to me, smirking. I turn to him with an eyebrow raised and a ‘what you laughing at?’ kind of look to my face. He just laughed outright. “I told you I wasn’t going to be on the team. They’re sexist, that’s why there’s no guy’s lacrosse here.”

“No, there’s no guys lacrosse cause no guys want to play it, loser.” I say back, head on hand lazily. I look back to the front to see Jamie looking through the list hard, probably looking for who would make the best goalie, the last player for the team.

Armand sat there looking smug next to me, Laurie, and Teresa. I ignored him and waited for the last call. I pointedly ignored him completely as he went on and on about how he wasn’t going to get picked for the goalie because he let all of the shots hit him.

“I mean, come on! Who would want a goalie who gets hit all the ti--” He said while laughing. I was glad we were in the back because otherwise people would stare at us.

“--Armand! Goalie!” Jamie shouts out from the front.

“WHAT?!” Armand shouts, standing up abruptly. In doing so, he looses his balance and slips, falling behind the bleachers.

I immediately turn around and jump down after him while Teresa and Laurie run down the bleachers then and make their way around. We’re already checking him out by the time Jamie had made her way around.

“Is he alright, girls?” she asks us, concerned tone to her voice. Armand sits up, saying he’s good. At that I stand up and roll my eyes, then proceeded to kick him in the side hard enough to knock him over. Teresa giggled and Laurie laughed obnoxiously, then the two followed after me.

As we walked away, me pulling my red jersey on with pride while Laurie and Teresa talk fast between each other, I could hear Armand in the background muttering about 'crazy women'.