Chapter 6

Luna's POV

The first half ends just as soon as I fall to the ground.

The healthcare workers carry me inside to get checked, their hands gentle but professional as they examine me for injuries. I want to tell them that nothing is broken, that whatever is wrong with me isn't something they can see or fix, but I stay silent. How can I explain that my own body feels like a stranger's? The medical tent smells of antiseptic and concern, bright lights making me squint as they check my pulse.

"Any dizziness? Nausea?" one of them asks, shining a small flashlight into my eyes.

I shake my head, though the truth is more complicated. I feel hollow, like something essential has been scooped out of me.

When I return to the team area, I can see my teammates' faces immediately. The disappointment is written across every expression, upset that they lost the first half because of me. Some won't even look in my direction, while others shoot quick, frustrated glances before turning away.

I sit down on the bench, feeling small and ashamed. The silence around me is heavy. I can hear whispers from some of the girls.

"What happened to her out there?"

"She was moving so slow."

"We were counting on her, thought she's strong now."

Each word feels like a knife. I keep my head down and pretend I can't hear them.

"I knew this would happen," one of them mutters to her friend. "She's not ready for this level."

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I want to disappear.

The coach seems fazed by what happened, though there is something in his expression that suggests he'd expected this. He looks at me for a long moment, and I can see concern in his eyes, not just disappointment. His weathered face carries the wisdom of someone who has seen players rise and fall.

He gathers the team in a circle. "Listen up," he says. "The first half is over. We're down, but we're not out. River Fang is a tough team, but we've faced tough teams before."

Some of the girls nod, but I can still feel their frustration.

"We need to play smarter in the second half," the coach continues. "Pass quickly, communicate, and trust each other."

Then he turns to me. "Luna, take a break. Sarah, you'll fill in for the second half."

I feel my heart sink even lower. Being benched is like being told I'm not good enough. Sarah looks surprised but nods quickly.

"I won't let you down, coach," she says.

The team seems happy about the change. I watch as they leave to get ready, their energy already shifting, hope returning to their movements. Without me dragging them down, they can actually play.

Sarah passes by me and pauses. "Don't worry about it," she says quietly. "Everyone has bad games."

But I know this isn't just a bad game. This is something else entirely.

I am confused about what happened to me. The weakness that has overtaken my body feels foreign, like something has been drained from me entirely. I keep touching my arms and legs, trying to understand why they feel so heavy and useless.

Just yesterday, I had been flying across the field. My movements had been smooth and powerful. I had felt like I could do anything. But today, I can barely run without stumbling.

What makes it worse is that no one seems to ask what happened, not even my supposed mates.

I look around for Dominic and Alex. They are on the other side of the room, getting ready for the second half. They don't even glance my way. It's like I don't exist.

Dominic and Alex have already made their position clear with their rejection. They said those cold words and walked away. But I had hoped that maybe, just maybe, they would show some concern when I got hurt.

They don't.

But Liam? He hasn't said the words, yet he doesn't come to check on me either. I can see him in the corner, adjusting his gear. His face is serious, focused on the game. Not once does he look at me sitting alone on the bench.

The silence from him hurts more than I want to admit. Part of me had thought he was different. Part of me had hoped he might care.

I am wrong.

I feel tears starting to build in my eyes, but I blink them away quickly. I can't cry here.

Cassie is the only one who comes over to comfort me after a few minutes.

"Luna, what happened out there?" she asks, sitting beside me on the bench, her voice gentle with concern. "You looked like you were in pain."

I try to find the words to explain something I don't understand myself. "I felt too weak to move my limbs," I finally say. "It was like all my strength just... disappeared. Like I was back to being the old me, the one who could barely hold a hockey stick."

Cassie frowns, her eyes searching my face. "That doesn't make sense. You've been incredible in training. What you did yesterday was…"

"Was what?" I interrupt, my voice sharper than I intend. "Was impossible? Was too good to be true?" I shake my head, frustration bleeding through. "Maybe that's exactly what it was."

Before Cassie can respond, the whistle blows, signaling the start of the second half. The team is already heading back onto the field, their focus shifting to the game ahead.

"Rest," Cassie says, standing up and placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I promise we'll figure this out after the game, okay?"

I nod, watching as she joins the others. But as I sit there on the sidelines, watching my team play without me, a deeper fear begins to settle in my chest.

What if whatever made me special is gone for good? What if I am back to being just Luna, the orphan girl who dreams too big and falls too hard?

The thought terrifies me more than I want to admit.