Chapter Text
Good ‘ole UNC is where Ashlyn Harris finds herself standing on a particularly hot, August day. It’s not just any day in August either, but official college move-in day for student athletes. Two week before everyone else living on campus moves in. She stands next to her packed, all black Jeep Unlimited and stares up at what will become her home for the next four years. She then wonders how in the hell she’s going to carry all of her belongings up the path to her dorm...but Ashlyn’s never been one for planning or worrying. She chooses to live life freely and go with the natural ebb and flow of things. Not thinking much further, she grabs her backpack from the passenger side of her Jeep, hip checks the door to close it, and begins her trek towards her dorm room.
During her walk she can feel the heat from the pavement through her shoes and for a minute she thinks she’s still in Florida. But the heat and sun in Florida are different than in North Carolina, and she’s not entirely sure if she likes it or not. Regardless, she continues her walk, quickening her pace to get to the AC as fast as possible. She shrugs her backpack off and digs out the key to her room as she scans herself into her resident hall. She takes note of the other students running in and out of the lobby with, wondering if any will be her teammates. Opting to stay out of their way as they continue to move things in and out, while occupying the elevator located just beyond the front entrance, Ashlyn shoots for the stairs. She’s on the second floor thankfully, which will be a huge help when she has to carry the rest of her things up to her room. But right now her things can wait. Just as she reaches the top of the staircase and readjusts the key in her hand, it slips through her fingers and she watches it bounce and clink off of every step she had just walked up.
“Well, that’s one way to tell me I should’ve done more conditioning...” Ashlyn lets out with a huff, setting her backpack down at the top of the stairs.
As she continues to mumble to herself and make her way down the steps rather quickly, she keeps her head down. She’s in her own world now and at this point, she might as well be blind. She’s going on and on to herself, making wild hand gestures about “always being the klutzy one” when it happens.
“Shit!” she hears a girl shriek, but it’s too late before that person is falling backwards down the stairs.
Ashlyn instinctually reaches out her hand to catch the falling victim, but only sees a flash of brown hair before it’s gone. For a goalkeeper her hand-eye coordination and movement should be lightning quick, but let’s blame that on her shock from the initial collision. She never even saw it coming, and now there’s some poor girl falling down the steps! That thought snaps her out of the daze.
“Holy shit, oh my god oh my god,” Ashlyn rushes out as she makes her way down the steps past all of the dropped items. There’s a backpack, purses in every color, more tennis shoes than one person should own, a soccer ball and cleats, books and papers and pens, two suitcases worth of clothing strewn all over the steps and ground. And then, Ashlyn sees her.
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“Ugh,” the brown-haired girl mumbles. She brings her hand up to her forehead and winces at the contact. She sees red on her fingers and at that, rolls further into her pile of clothes, burying her face as if that would create a new reality.
When her disappearing act fails to work, she picks up on the fact that she’s not alone. That’s when she hears her voice.
“Holy shit, oh my god oh my god,” comes barreling down the steps. She just groans even more when she feels a hand on the back of her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” asks the voice she’s assuming is responsible for pushing her down the steps. “I, oh my god, I am so sorry,” the girl rambles off nervously and clearly worried.
“It’s okay,” she mumbles into one of her Penn State hoodies lying on the ground. She attempts to move but is cut off.
“Thank god, she speaks!” Ashlyn says and that gets the girl to giggle.
“She does, but not if you keep pushing her down the steps,” she responds.
At that remark Ashlyn laughs and brings her hand up to the back of her neck, rubbing it anxiously. The nameless girl finally pushes her way into a sitting position and checks the cut on her forehead. She winces once again.
Ashlyn looks down at the girl, observing her movements. She takes in her brown hair that’s haphazardly thrown into a bun on the top of her head, the Penn State hoodie she’s clutching in her hands with drops of blood on the sleeves, the tight black skinny jeans clinging to her muscular thighs, and her eyes. Ashlyn blinks slowly and finally locks eyes with the girl slouching on the floor of their dorm building. She crouches down and rests her hand on her right knee. The girl flinches slightly, but Ashlyn doesn’t seem to let this affect her. She’s stuck on the color of her eyes. They’re brown, but not a common, dark shade. There’s a lightness to this girl’s eyes. They seem to sparkle and shine even inside. They’re a beautiful golden color with tiny flecks of yellow scattered about. Ashlyn hears the girl clear her throat and she snaps out of it. She glances tot he girl’s forehead.
“Oh my god, you’re bleeding,” Ashlyn starts.
“It’s not that bad,” the girl replies.
“I am such a horrible person,” she begins, “my friends would be living for this moment right now,” she finishes.
“It’s really-” the girl tries to get out her words, but is quickly cut off by a rambling Ashlyn.
“No, no no, this is terrible,” Ashlyn tells her, “you’re a complete stranger and I almost killed you!”
“Ali,” the girls mumbles cutely.
“Huh?” Ashlyn looks perplexed.
“My name is Ali, and now we aren’t strangers anymore,” the brunette answers.
“Ashlyn,” she responds to the brunette, “now come with me,” she finishes, holding out her hand to the girl on the ground.