she had dreamed about connecting her foot to a ball again. kick. there she went. it rolled softly. she kicked it again. a puff of dust rose from the ground. her heart was galloping madly. she ran to keep up with it. kicking, running, kicking. she let the blurring hexagons and pentagons hypnotize her. this was nice, just this. she didnt need any games or coaches or cheering onlookers or college scouts. she just needed this.
--from the second summer of the sisterhood (traveling pants)