License To Coach
England Lionesses x Teen!Reader
Summary: Prodigies appear in all areas of football
"Alright," Chloe says as she slips into her seat at the breakfast table, buterring a slice of toast absentmindedly," Who does the kid belong to?"
A piece of bacon hangs from Beth's mouth and someone jokingly gags. "Kid? What kid?"
"She's not a kid." Alex is the one that speaks, slipping into the only empty seat left and placing her plate down.
"Then who is she?"
"She's Sarina's protégé."
Beth scarfs down her bacon, washing it down with a quick swig of water before speaking. "Who...Are we talking about here?"
Lucy, who up to this point, had been silent, rolls her eyes. She jerks her chin over ot the small circle of staff that are sat at one of the far tables. You're wedged between Sarina and her assistant. The set piece coach is leaning over the table to show you something from his mountains and mountains of documents.
"Has she always been here?"
"Obviously not, Beth," Lucy drawls," But she was here when I turned up and I was the first one to arrive."
Leah leans back in her seat, head tilted all the way back to catch a look at you. She frowns as she settles back onto all four legs again. "I spoke to Sarina about her. She's like an intern or something."
"Since when has Sarina had interns?"
"She's not actually an intern, Beth. They picked her up from National League South. She-"
"So she's...what? A player?"
"If you'd let Leah finish," Lucy says with a laugh," You'd find out that she took a team fighting relegation to the top of the table."
"So...She's a coach? I thought she was a kid?"
"Sixteen," Leah confirms with a nod, head still tilted out to peer back at you.
You're leaning over set piece plays and Sarina gently moves your bowl of cereal out the way so your shirt doesn't get covered in milk.
"There was some video on the internet ages ago and, I guess, Sarina was impressed. I certainly was. The team is only semi-professional, of course, but, really, she had them playing like the best of them. Well oiled machine and all that. Sarina tracked her down or something. The FA are playing for her coaching licenses."
Beth's cutlery drops to her plate with a clatter. Thankfully, with all the noise, no one really notices. "Seriously?"
"Special case as well. She's sped through the FA Levels. She worked with the youth teams too." Leah leans closer, voice dropping. "This doesn't leave this table but..." She glances around, clears her throat and drops her voice even lower. "Sarina's had her waiting in the wings for a little while now." She raises her eyebrows pointedly.
"Meaning?"
"I'm pretty sure she's coming to the Euros."
"How-How long is 'a little while'?"
Leah shrugs. No answer. Not because she won't but because she can't.
There's been whispering before and, of course, she watched the video when it first came out. Somehow, you had a cute baby face even if you were screaming in the sidelines like you were Pep Guardiola, all passion.
Leah didn't want to think about how quickly Sarina must have tracked you down and snatched you up. There were talks every time the youth teams were called up about some mysterious kid on the coaching staff but seeing you here, now, and with the senior set up was the surprise of a lifetime.
Especially when she found out that the FA had a vested interest in you. Paying for your licenses weren't something that the FA did often, let alone send a request to UEFA itself asking for special dispensation because of your age and the requirements.
You shift a little and Sarina pushes you bowl back into your view and you scarf it down, still looking through the little book the set piece coach had gifted you.
Leah watches it all, finally dragging her attention back to the table. Lucy doesn't though, Leah notes. Lucy keeps watching you, brow a little furrowed. Perhaps in confusion. Perhaps in shock.
She keeps watching you even when you're dragged to your feet, a half peeled orange in your mouth while you hastily pull your England kit jacket on and follow Sarina and her staff.
"The Euros, huh?" Lucy's words are barely intelligible, low and under her breath like they're not meant to be heard by anyone else. "Must be a very smart kid."
You're everywhere now that Lucy knows to look. You linger during set piece practice, you keep to the edges when the defender's train in a group, when the midfielders practice, when the forwards shoot on goal, when the keepers practice saving shots. You're off to the side when set pieces are called. You're right by Sarina's shoulder when the whole group comes together.
You're silent most of the time, offering up a few questions here and there, even fewer orders when you're prompted to give them. But you're writing. You're constantly writing in your little notepad. Lucy has no idea what but you're always scrawling something down.
Sometimes you linger a bit closer, eyes narrowed. Sometimes, she wonders if you can see something that she doesn't.
When she tells Sarina about her leg, about the break, you're in the room. Lucy wasn't sure whether she'd interrupted a meeting or if this was a weird mentor-student study session because a book of players is open on the table when she comes in.
You give her that odd look again. The one that makes it seem like you're assessing her, like you're factoring her injury into the grand plan you have in place.
"Kid's crazy smart," Georgia says in greeting two days before they fly to Switzerland. She practically collapses into her seat during dinner.
Leah looks up from her phone and Lucy pushes some mushrooms around her plate. "Huh?"
"The kid. Sarina's 'intern'." She uses air quotes when saying it, going along with the team's joke for your position, especially considering no one has ever really said what your role on the staff is. "She's like crazy smart. Insanely smart."
Lucy sighs, finally sitting up in her seat properly. "Alright, G. I'll bite. What do you know?"
"So I was in the lounge, right? 'Cause Less told me they had those biscuits in there I liked and the kid's there. So, like, I'm nice enough and she seems sweet so I went over, yeah? She's writing some crazy stuff in her workbook. All complicated algebra and stuff. Apparently, it's like A-Level stuff. And I was like 'aren't you supposed to be doing GCSEs'? And she's all 'oh! I did them at fourteen!'. Wicked smart."
Sometimes, it was hard to follow along with Georgia but thankfully, Lucy is well practiced at it by this point and actually huffs out a laugh. She flicks a pea across the table.
"She might be the smartest person here then. Might have to put her in contact with my Mum if she's into maths."
"Backup career," Georgia jokes and Leah joins in with the laughter.
The days pass and by the time it comes around to leaving for Switzerland, Leah isn't at all surprised to see you on the bus to the airport.
She swings an arm over your shoulders as you linger in the aisle.
"Y/n, right?" She asks even though she knows the answer," You can sit with me. G and Keira have got us a four seater."
You jump a little, like you're two seconds away from trembling like a fawn. "Oh, er...I-"
"It's no problem," Leah insists," You're like the youngest person here. Wouldn't be doing a good job at being captain if I left you out, huh?"
"I...er...Don't think captaincy extends to staff?"
"Who says?" She winks," I won't tell if you don't."
That's how you find yourself squished between the window and Leah Williamson. There's a small table across from you where Keira Walsh and Georgia Stanway sit.
They're kind of a trio, you know that. Everyone knows that. The whole world knows that. You feel awkward to sit with them, let alone so firmly implanted between them, tucked into the window seat.
You practically jump out of your skin when Keira's foot knocks against your ankle. But all she does is offer you a friendly smile and pushes a cup of something towards you.
"Got you a hot chocolate. Didn't know if you're even allowed coffee."
"Hot chocolate is...good..." You say softly, drinking the scalding liquid just to stop yourself from making a fool of yourself.
"I saw that video of you," Keira continues," As that match."
Your cheeks colour in embarrassment. "Oh...That...Yeah..."
"Strong coaching," She says with that same friendly smile," Looked like an intense match. You really had a go at your striker."
"He's my cousin," You admit," It was his team. Their manager quit unexpectedly. He offered me up for that match."
"Well it looks like that's what he needed. Three goals in the second half from him. He was banging them in so quick almost thought he might beat Lewandowski's record."
Finally, you grin. It pushes through your embarrassment and you laugh. "I'm sure he'd love to here that."
Keira, you decide, is nice. Keira is nice and Georgia is cheeky and Leah is steady. You can see how they mesh together, how well they work, with each other, with others, with the coaching staff.
Keira doesn't press too much. She doesn't prod at things you would rather not talk about. She doesn't go on and on about how special you are like how some of the youth team staff do when you help them out. She doesn't sneer at you like some players on the youth team do. She smiles and she laughs and she slips you chocolate from the emergency stash you know she's not supposed to have.
"I'll take that," She says, hefting your carry on up onto her shoulder, knocking her other against yours as you drag your suitcase out from under the bus," Go on ahead. Less is getting a trolley for her and Tooney's cases. Yours should fit."
"Oh...I..."
"They're not going to bite. Go on, go."
There's a gap between you and most of the squad. There's Michelle, of course, but she's navigating this world in a different way to you. She's part of the team, part of the players. You're just staff. You're not going to hinder that for her.
But the age gap between you and the rest of the team is obvious. In everything. In their references. In their familiarity with each other. In the way your face still clings to your baby fat and you can't quite speak without tripping over your own words.
Your throat bobs awkwardly as your approach them both. They're fighting over whose cases are going on the bottom. "Er...Erm...Keira..." Their eyes snap to you. "Sent me over."
You wait, silent, rocking on your feet. More silence. They keep staring. You're sweating under your collar.
They exchange a look and you're about ready to high tail it out of there before Tooney's hand slaps against you shoulder.
"Of course she did!" She says brightly," Give me that. I've got it. This is incredibly light, you know? What have you got in here? Feathers?"
You wince a little and try to smile. "Something like that." This is your first trip abroad. You didn't want to overpack.
"Tooney can push for us," Alessia says breezily, an arm over your shoulder like Leah's was a few hours ago," So, you ever been to Switzerland before? I haven't. Are your family coming to watch?"
"Er...No and no? They all have work, you know? Busy. Busy."
"That sucks," Alessia says, her face dripping in sympathy," Not even on days off? You can come with my family if you want?"
"Oh, I couldn't-"
"Less' brother just had a baby," Tooney cuts you off smoothly," Or, I guess, his wife did. But there's a new baby. You should meet them."
"Oh, er-"
"My dad's side of the family is Italian," Alessia continues. Her arm migrates from your shoulders to link through yours. "We're all for more people joining. You're a little quiet but don't worry-" She winks teasingly," -Us, Russos are talkers."
You don't know how they get you to agree but somehow you do. You're roped into Russo family days off when you have time and Alessia's already squaring it off with her parents before you can blink.
Tooney and Alessia talk a lot. You're squished between them all the way up to boarding the plane. You finally, finally get respite again when you're sat between Michelle and Esme on the plane, both of them respecting your fraying nerves and need for silence.
You exchange smiles with both and settle in for the trip.
The first match is a bit of a distaster and you can do nothing but sit there and watch, shifting ever so slightly as you scrawl things out in your notebook and make little marks of your thoughts.
You don't speak on the way back to the hotel, trapped in your thoughts and your notebook. One name is circled and starred.
You don't expect an early night. You don't even think you were going to sleep regardless but it's not shocking nonetheless when you're redirected into an emergency meeting of the coaching staff.
You thought you were meant to be here in a purely observational role, out of the kindness of Sarina's heart even if she was the one kncoking on your Dad's door that day with video evidence and an offer.
But here you were, standing in this meeting like you were meant to be here, like this was your actual job.
"Y/n," Sarina says and you have to fight not to jump.
"Yes?"
"What did you think of the match? Any observations?"
"Er..."
Her face softens a fraction and she nods encouragingly at you. You gulp, taking a steadying breath.
"Michelle has to be your super sub." You say the words with conviction, with authority and Sarina's brow raises. "I know everyone's expecting it to be Aggie and I'm not saying she wouldn't be a great choice because she is but..."
"But?" Sarina prompts and there's something in her eyes that you can't name. Like she's proud of you or something. You must be imaginging it.
"But it has to be Michelle. Purely from a preparation standpoint."
"Go on."
"Everyone will be expecting it to be Aggie. Everyone will have been or will be preparing for it to be Aggie. Or, at least, they'd put the most effort into Aggie. Alessia's your number one, people know that, but Aggie's high output at a high level." You reach for your book, tucked into your back pocket and clear your throat. "Everything is must win for us now and the others in our group know that. Our tactics have started to be picked apart and they've been picked apart since the world cup. We need to do something unexpected, something that will unsettle them. Michelle's untested, yeah, I know, but she's got that spark. We need her."
You fall silent suddenly, your voice catching in your throat and going weak.
"Or, you know, that's just my opinion. It's probably-"
"You're saying, if we're in control of the game, we go with Aggie. If we're out of control, Michelle."
"Er...yes..."
"That's a great idea."
"It...is?"
"Good going, kid," The assistant coach claps you on the back," Knew you had the right instincts in you. Maybe this calls for ice cream as a reward."
"I'm not twelve."
He shrugs. "Your loss."
You're still not quite sure what your role is here. No one's really explained it to you other than Leah jokingly calling you Sarina's 'intern' which you know to be a joke but can't quite work out what she means by it.
The joke must have spread to the whole team because that's how Alessia introduces you to her family too. Sarina's intern. Special, apparently.
"Learning under Sarina, huh?" Alessia's father, Mario, seems kind of fun, you think. He's got laughter lines all over his face and he looks at his wife like she hung the moon and the stars. He looks at his kids, Alessia and her brother Luca (the third you think is on Love Island right now, if Tooney's scandalous gossip is to be believed) like they're the sun. "How long have you been working with her?"
"A little over a year."
Alessia presses an ice cream into your hand with a smile, bumping your shoulders with a smile. "Sarina's really been keeping you hidden, huh?"
You manage to return her smile, relaxing only a tad as she rejoins the table. "I've mostly been working with the youth teams."
"You must be doing well though," Mario says. Alessia must have got her smile from him. "You thinking of going into coaching?"
You play with the seam of your shirt. You look at your ice cream. It's melting a little. It's exactly what you wanted though, with the same toppings your dad always get you when you go out with him. "Er...Yes."
"The FA have been paying," Alessia picks up easily," I think...Actually, which one are you working on right now? The C license?"
You've never said it out loud before, even during that meeting you had with Sarina.
"I've got my C license," You say, conviction in your voice that wasn't there before," I'm...er...I'm finishing up my B actually."
Next to you, Alessia's smile melts off her face. Replacing it, is an open mouthed staring as she looks at her, eyes wide in shock. Across from her, Luca frowns, still feeding his baby.
"I thought you had to be eighteen for that," He says.
You wince a litttle. "Special dispensation," You explain," I don't really know but the FA had to submit documents to UEFA and I have permission to do my licenses with less barriers."
"That's impressive, sweetheart." Alessia's mum isn't the only one not staring at you in shock, a smile still on her face as she sets a drink in front of you. Some kind of slushy that you just know will dye your tongue purple after you drink it. "That's a lot of pressure though, isn't it? I hope Less has been helping you relax. I always said, you know, it's a shame Less never got to be an older sister. She has the instincts, you know?"
"Mum!"
"Oh, calm down, Lessi. What about you, sweetheart? Siblings?"
"No." That's a lie but you don't want to put a damper on this day. Your cousin is kind of like your brother, you guess. But he's still your cousin and already an adult so not really.
You don't actually know your brothers. They're a lot younger than you and probably have no idea who you are considering they live with your mother and you don't see her at all.
They were your brothers in blood and that was probably it. Not like Alessia and Luca and the elusive Gio.
"Adopting her, Carol?" Mario teases his wife and she bats at him with no force.
"I'm just saying that Lessi might want to swoop in on that."
"Mum, I don't think that's how siblings work."
"Bah! You're so young, you think you know everything."
"I'm...You know what, whatever. Come on, y/n, I see cookie dough with our names on it."
Four times the ball hits the back of the Netherlands goal. It's what the team needs to still be in with a chance. It might be a blessing in disguise, you muse idly, as you pile onto the bus after the match, to get the most difficult game out of the way first. If anything, it's motivation to keep going on, to keep fighting.
It would be embarrassing for the title holders to get grouped so easily.
You find yourself sitting next to Lucy on the way back this time rather than the four seater with Leah, Keira and Georgia. Still the window seat, still trapped in.
But Lucy smiles at you, leaning over conspiratorally even though you're the only two sitting here. "So, your notebook. I have to know, what even is it?"
Your cheeks grow hot and you're happy for the low lighting because it means she can't see how red they've gone. "Just...observations, you know? Noticing stuff."
"Does mine have notes about how strong I am?" She jokingly flexes," Because I am, you know? The strongest here."
That shocks a laugh out of you, it's barely more than a huff but it's there and Lucy's whole face lights up like a Christmas tree.
"And make sure Georgia's note say she smells. Because she does. Have you taken a whiff of her boots yet? Makes me queasy just thinking about them."
You giggle. "I'll have to write that down."
"And remember to make a note on how Keira snores. Because she does. That's important."
"It is?"
Lucy nods adamantly, that grin still on her face. She peers over the back of her seat for a moment before turning back. "Alex can't work blenders because she says they're too complicated and Tooney might still have her mum doing her laundry."
There's six different goalscorers during the match against Wales, Tooney being one of them. Sarina doesn't actually have to do much coaching. Instead, she sits next to you on the bench and looks through your notebook.
She nods occasionally. Sometimes her brow furrows at what she reads. She laughs at the inclusions you've added about Keira's snoring and Tooney's laundry.
You work with the set piece coach. You work with the assistants and the specialised coaches. You shadow one of the psychologists for a few hours then the nutritionists. You watch endless film. Again and again and again.
And you still feel useless as you watch Sweden score twice. Full time creeps up on you slowly. Nearly seventy minutes gone. You watch the clock. The bench is in disarray.
Sarina's started pacing and you finally stand, hands shaking a little. She hasn't called for you. She's probably forgotten that you're even here but you can't just sit there, sielnt and waiting for the inevitable.
"S-Sarina?"
"Hmm, yes? What is it?"
"I...I think we need to make some subs. Michelle needs to come on. We need to bolster our defence a little but if we want a chance, we need to throw on some more attackers. Michelle needs to be one of them."
"Tell them to warm up. Beth. Esme. Michelle. And..."
You glance at the bench. "Chloe? Maybe? We need another impact sub. We get those three on now and then her?"
"Get them all warmed up."
Chloe assists Lucy's goal and Michelle grabs her own in the dying minutes. The air's knocked out of you as the bench celebrates. Someone, Grace perhaps or Niamh, shakes you brutally at the celebrations and extra time begins. England wrenches control back from the clutches of defeat, forces a penalty shootout that you can't watch but force yourself to.
Now that the team is in the semi-finals, there's not really days off. Just recovery. But you're not a player and you've found yourself truly folded into the staff now. You know your role, kind of...sort of...maybe.
What you do know is that you have a role to play, responsibilities and the like. But Sarina still lets you sleep in after all the celebrations last night.
Which is why it's so difficult to drag yourself out of bed at the insistent knocking on your door. You peel it open.
"What's with the bed head?" Leah laughs, easily slipping through your cracked door," Did you just get up or something?"
Behind her, Keira and Georgia squeeze through too. They're holding snacks that they're definitely not meant to have as they lay about your room.
"Er...yes."
"You know what they say about teenagers," Georgia says with a laugh," Always sleeping."
"Don't be mean, G," Keira says with a laugh and a soft shrug. She pulls you with her over to your bed where Leah's already made herself comfortable, squeezing you between them both and opening a bag of pretzels, waving them under your nose until you take one. "I think this teenager has earnt her rest."
You eat a pretzel.
Leah scrolls aimlessly through your tv channels, brow furrowed half the time before she finds the Netflix app and logs herself in. A mindless movie is put on, one of those movies that follow an exact formula and is the same as a handful of other Netflix made movies that all blend together in your mind.
You didn't usually watch movies at home. Dad was always busy. Always at work. He'd leave the house before you woke up and he'd come back only a few hours before you went to bed. You could count on one hand how many times you'd sat down with him to watch a movie.
They weren't really things either of you were interested in. The tv rarely got put on when the two of you were together. It just wasn't something you really did with each other.
But this is nice, you think. The movie isn't really interesting and it's definitely not a cinematic masterpiece but it's basic and easy and the company is even better.
Leah heckles the screen even though the actors can't hear her. Georgia keeps bursting into laughter at moments that really aren't that funny and Keira keeps cajoling you into taking more snacks from her.
The knock on your door comes halfway through the second movie, some cheesy romcom with an actor you recognise from somewhere but can't name just yet.
"G, grab the door," Keira says.
"Why do I have to get it?"
"Because you're the closest?" You laugh and she waves a teasing finger in your direction.
"You can't defeat me with logic," She says but stands nonetheless and pulls it over. "Alessia?"
"Georgia? What are you doing here?"
"Movies. What are you doing?"
"This is y/n's room, right? I have the right room?"
"Just let her in, G!" Leah hollers just as the main leads have yet another argument that could easily be resolved by communicating properly.
Alessia slips into the room, drinking in everything. The seat that Georgia has returned to, kicking her feet up onto your table. Leah on your left with control of the tv and Keira on your right with a bag of chocolate buttons that are already extended out towards you. You, sitting in the middle of the bed with your hand already buried in the bag.
You're smiling.
Alessia smiles too, hefting a box under her arm and placing it at the foot of your bed. "Mum sent this for you."
"Your mum sent me something?"
"You made quite the impact," Alessia says with a laugh," I voted we kick Gio out the family and let you take his place but Mum said there was enough room for you anyway." She started opening the box, pulling out various snacks and drinks and a pair of fuzzy socks with floppy dog ears. "And I know you have a coat but, honestly, your coat is a little sad looking and I checked the brand and it's not even waterproof."
"It's summer," You point out weakly as Alessia pulls a waterproof jacket out of the box.
"Summer storms are a thing," She continues," So me and Mum went out today to get you a new one."
"You didn't have to do that."
Alessia throws it at you with a grin and it lands right on your head. Georgia laughs as Leah ruffles your hair over the material. You stick your tongue out at her as Keira pulls the jacket from your head.
"I know," Lessi says, settling at the foot of your bed casually," But I did it anyway."
"Thank you."
She shrugs. "Now, what are we watching?"
You only manage to get through the second movie before your alarm goes off and you head off to the staff meeting Sarina arranged last night.
It's a lot of what you expected and you linger in the background in silence, shifting your weight from side to side. You nearly bolt out the door when it's over but Sarina calls you back, waiting until everyone else has filtered out to speak.
"You need to be more assertive."
"I...Huh?"
"Yesterday's match had me thinking," She says," You delayed talking to me about the subs. You waited on the bench even though you clearly wanted to speak up beforehand. You have good ideas, you know that right? But you can't wait until the last minute to tell me them. Alright? If you have an idea or you think I'm doing something wrong, you need to tell me."
You shift awkwardly. "You're...kind of my boss though. Isn't that...I don't know? Disrespectful?"
"I'd find it more disrespectful if you didn't speak up." She sits down at the table with a sigh. "You have great instincts. You have great knowledge and tactically, you're sound. I watched you with the youth teams. When you speak, you're usually right and that isn't something that happens every day. But you need to assert yourself. You need to speak up. With me and with the team. I can't promise to always use your ideas but I do want to hear them."
You sink into the seat across from her.
"I know that I'm asking a lot of you and I know that I've been asking a lot of you since we met. But I keep setting expectations for you and you keep meeting them quicker than anyone has been execting." She sighs again. "Your only weakness is not speaking up more. I want your ideas because they're good ideas. And the team will want your ideas too. So, tomorrow at training, I want you to take the reigns for a few drills. The team will respect you regardless because that's who they are but tomorrow, I want you to give them a reason to keep respecting you."
You don't remember the person that recorded that video of you last year. They'd posted it as an attempt to tease you as a 'look at this shitty club so bad they've got a kid managing them, hahaha' but it didn't actually have that effect on the internet.
It wasn't even a proper league game, just a little tournament set up that had an actual reward other than bragging rights, an all expense paid dinner and drinks at the pub that had randomly hiked its prices up out of nowhere so practically none of the locals could go anymore.
It was your cousin's team and he had been adamant about getting it, something about wanting to be able to take his girlfriend (now fiancé) out at the place they had first met before proposing. He had asked and you had agreed.
You don't even know why it went viral. All you really knew was a week later, Sarina Wiegman and a represenative of the FA were knocking at your door and offering you the chance of a lifetime. They saw something in that little clip. They saw something in you.
Your Dad was worried about the cost. They offered to pay for everything. The cost of the courses, the cost of your travel, bed and board during international break when they wanted your services.
After that, it was weeks of paperwork and special permissions and then suddenly you were folded into the youth team's staff, bouncing between the teams every so often as you were awarded your C license.
Sarina appeared and disappeared at will during your time in the youth set up, talking to other staff members about young players, about you. Then, she had called you up at the start of the year. She wanted you to stay with the U-23s for the time being but she was prepared and willing to bring you into the senior team setup for the Euros.
Now, here you were, yelling out instructions to the senior players like you used to do for your youth players. Giving instructions and making corrections and pretending that your heart wasn't beating out your chest with every word you spoke.
Lucy claps you on the back during the drinks break, a grin on her face. "Congrats," She says with that cheeky smile that says she's about to say something that you're not expecting.
"For...what?" You ask warily and Lucy wiggles her finger in your face, tapping your nose.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" She teases before her arm is thrown over your shoulder and she dramatically pretends to go weak-kneed, leaning her full bodyweight on you. "I mean, it seems like it was just yesterday you were struggling to grab your suitcase off the bus!" A dramatic hand presses against her forehead. "So young. So innocent."
"Laying it on thick, are you, Lucy?" Is Keira's dry response. She stands in front of you both, arms crossed over her chest but a small smile on her face at Lucy's absurdity.
"Don't tell me you're not proud too, Kei? This little sweetheart's moving up in the world!"
"Of course I'm proud, Lucy," Keira says with an eye roll," But that doesn't mean you're not laying it on thick."
You glance between them, brow furrowed. "What's...going on here? What do you know that I don't?"
Keira and Lucy exchange a look that you can't decipher as Lucy ruffles your hair.
"You'll see."
And you do see but only after the rest of the day. A day full of people grinning at you and nudging you and congratulating you. Leah ruffles your hair like Lucy did and Georgia breaks out the biscuits she swore she wasn't going to open until after the match against Italy.
Alessia practically lifts you into the air and spins with you in her excitement. Of course, she almost trips over her own feet while spinning and would have fallen with you in her arms had she not gone careening into Tooney, who had the unfortunate job of keeping you both upright.
The day gets even stranger when the whole team practically stalks you to Sarina's office. Beth's the one that gets them caught but only because she tries to peer at you from behind a wall and falls flat on her face, pulling both Grace and Hannah down with her, and the team abandons all pretence of doing this secretly.
You're beaming when you step out of Sarina's office, face flushed with pride and you give a shriek when someone (either Chloe or Niamh) pops a party popper right as you step through the threshold.
Sarina laughs behind you. "Alright, girls," She says warmly," Let's not get too carried under with these celebrations, alright? We've got a match coming up. I don't want tired legs on that pitch."
Later, when everyone else has calmed down and you're just heading to your room to turn in for the night, Alessia grins at you.
"We'll have to celebrate when we get home," She says to you, nudging your shoulder with her own," A B license is unheard of at your age. Me, you, my family and yours. We'll have to find a way to celebrate."
Your face flushes a little in embarrassment. "We...really don't need to," You say weakly," I mean, it's probably going to be expensive for all of us, right?"
"I'm paying," Alessia insists," You're not going to pay on your special night."
"Are you...sure?"
"Positive."
Somehow, England is in the final.
A two-one victory over Italy with Michelle and Chloe scoring the goals and Sarina clapping you on the pack with pride at how much more assertive you've become with her.
Spain are the other team in the final but you had kind of been expecting that. They'd been in form ever since their world cup win. You knew they weren't going to be letting this opportunity pass them by.
But before all that, you have a rest day. Or, kind of a rest day. The team has a rest day. You have half a rest day and a meeting before dinner to get to.
But most of your day is spent outside in the hotel garden, splayed out on a patio chair around a little table with some of the others playing cards.
There's a lull in the game as Leah reshuffles the cards. She was adamant earlier that Georgia was cheating somehow, something about a false shuffle and card counting so she's taken over the shuffling now even though Georgia kept denying it.
They're across from you with Lucy squished between them as if she was the barrier that kept Leah lunging at her friend.
You're wedged between Keira and Alessia, staring down at your phone. It's lit up, your screen full of the groupchat with your dad, uncle and cousin. Your Dad sent a picture of the three of them watching the semifinal, thumbs up and smiles wide.
"They can't make it?" Keira asks gently and you look up at her in shock, wincing for a moment.
"Yeah...Couldn't get the time off. I'm not...you know."
"Sad? It's okay if you are. You are part of this team, you know. You're allowed to want your family there."
"They're busy."
Leah starts dealing the cards.
"I'm sure they would be here if they could," Alessia says from your other side," And I'm sure they're all feeling terrible that they can't be."
You make a non-committal noise and reach for your pile.
You do the pitchwalk the day of the final with the rest of the team. You don't really know why you're doing it considering you won't actually be on the pitch but it's kind of fun so you do it anyway, clearing your mind of any nerves that infect you.
Lucy captures you the moment you come out of the tunnel, arm draped over your shoulders as she steers you directly towards a group of the Spanish girls.
You recongise them, of course. Mainly because they're all famous but also because you've been studying their film for hours until it made it feel like your mind was melting.
"Y/n, this is my girlfriend, Ona. Ona, this is y/n. She's Sarina's intern."
Ona Batlle cocks her head to the side in momentary confusion. "I didn't know managers could have interns."
"I'm not an intern," You grouse good-naturedly and Lucy laughs, squeezing you a bit tighter as she does so.
"And this is," She dismissively waves her hand," Everyone else. I'm sure you know who they are already."
"Feeling the love," Patri Guijarro mutters and Lucy rolls her eyes. They twinkle with mischief.
"Well, you know, Ona's the important one here."
"Bah!" Patri jokingly bats at her and you smother down your laugh.
You make the completely wrong move of turning your head to look at the rest of the circle. Both Putellas and Paredes are watching you with narrowed eyes like they're trying to place you somewhere so you look away quickly. Aitana is, of course, Aitana Bonmati and she greets you politley while Mariona Caldentay beams at you just as Leah and Alessia appear behind you, exchanging a hug with her.
Suddenly, Paredes snaps her fingers. "I know where I've seen you before." You wince, your mind immediately going to that video that everyone knows you from. "You help coach the England youth teams. I've seen you in the back of highlight reels." She frowns. "You look a lot younger in person."
Lucy laughs. "She looks her age in person," She corrects," Sixteen."
"Sixteen?" Paredes' whistle of awe is low and long.
"Sixteen and with her B license." Lucy brags like she's your Dad or something, puffing out her chest and ruffling your hair.
Putellas, who had been silent up until this point, perks up. "Really? Already?" She looks at you a little differently now that Paredes has placed you.
"Special dispensation because of her age," Lucy continues to explain," After the Euros is over, the FA are paying for her A license. Then her Pro license after that. If everything keeps on track, she'll be fully qualified before she's nineteen."
"You've kept this one hidden then."
"Funny, we said to the same to Sarina during camp. She really blindsided us with this one."
In faux-casualness, Putellas looks at you. "Have you thought about your future as a coach? National team? Club?"
"Hey! No poaching!"
"It's a genuine question!"
"A genuine question if it came from anyone but you, Ale! You cannot poach my future manager."
Putellas laughs at that. "Are you still going to be playing when she becomes a manager?"
Lucy puffs out her chest. "You know I will."
"I might decide not to call you up," You mutter dryly and that shocks laughter out of Putellas. She holds her hand out to you. You shake it.
"I like you," She declares," I'll have to look up your coaching resume before warmups. You must be good if exceptions have been made for you."
"I...Thanks?"
She grins at you. "Don't thank me. Lucy was right. I am trying to poach you."
Spain score first in the match. You'd expected that. They had some of the best players in the world and they'd dominated practically the whole competition. You'd expected them to score first. But you couldn't just let them run away with the game now.
"The medics are worried she can't continue," Sarina whispers to you and her assistant coach when LJ goes down and struggles to get back up again.
"Sub her off," You say," Chloe can go on in her place."
"Or we can wait?" The assistant coach offers," Let them treat her off the pitch and see if it resolves itself?"
"And put us down to ten against a Spain thirsty for that second goal? They'll find an opening quicker than we can patch it. Sub LJ off. Put Chloe on. We can't afford to let them get that second."
Sarina nods. "LJ off. Chloe on."
Your knee bounces incessantly on the bench during the second half and breath a sign of relief when Chloe gets the assist for Alessia's goal.
"Right choice," You mutter," It was the right choice. Right choice."
You mark the Spain's coach decision to sub Putellas off for Pina as a terrible one. Not even a bad decision, a terrible one. If you had been in control of Spain, their lineup might have been slightly different and there was no way in hell you would ever be subbing Putellas out for Pina, not when you knew how dangerous their linkup play could be.
A terrible decision for Spain might have just cinched the England win.
The penalty shootout makes it feel like your heart is in your throat even though you had literally done this drill with the team just yesterday, when you had sat with the penalty takers and described their strengths and weaknesses at taking penalties, when you had explained what way they tended to go and which way the Spanish team would be most expecting.
You stand between Sarina and her assistant coach just as Chloe's ball flies into the top left corner.
The noise that comes out of your mouth sounds like you're underwater. You can barely hear it over the rush of blood in your ears, the cheering from the crowd, the eruption of emotion from the rest of the staff.
At some point during the celebration, Chloe crashes into you, waving a fake stern finger in your face. "Top left," She laughs," Top fucking left! Just like you said!"
Somewhere along the way, Lucy grabs a hold of you. She ruffles your hair and throws you over her shoulder to spin you around until you're light headed.
Keira and Georgia share you at one point, one hand in each of yours as you jump up and down to the music, shouting out the lyrics with the crowd.
"England manager!" Leah yells over all the noise," Alright? You're going to be my fucking manager in a few years, alright?"
You laugh. "I don't think that's quite your decision."
"Why the hell not? Why do you think the FA's been paying of your courses, huh? They're lining you up for when Sarina steps aside. Mark my words, you're going to be the England manager and I'll be playing for you."
"Oh, come off it, Leah."
"Just you see."
It takes a while for Alessia to find you after the medals are handed out and the trophy lift. Somewhere between all of the celebrations, Alessia helps you up to the stands where her family sits.
You'd tried to hang back, to give her that time with them herself but she insisted on dragging you along.
You greet her brothers warmly, recieving claps on the back from them and smiles you can't even begin to understand. Then comes her parents. They both give you a hug and then...
Her family parts and you burst into tears.
"Dad?"
"Hey there, sweetheart. You didn't think we would miss this, would you?"
Over his shoulder, you can see your uncle and your cousin and you nearly fall over your feet to hug them.
"The Russos really went to bat for us, you know," Your Dad says as he holds you close and you sob into his shoulder," They weren't taking no for an answer. As if we wouldn't find a way to support you wherever we are."
"Dad," You whisper.
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
"We won."
"I saw."
"No, like, we won. And I helped to do that. Like, I actually did help. I didn't just sit back and let things happen. I...I helped."
Your Dad chuckles as he holds you just a little tighter. "Of course you did. That's why you're going to be the best manager in the world."
You wipe your tears away with a weak chuckle. "You're getting ahead of yourself."
"Nah, you're just not putting enough faith in yourself."
"You think so?"
"You just helped England win the Euros. At sixteen."
Sarina, you think, has a similar thought because she pulls you away from the celebrations before you walk in, fresh faced from your shower and in a new set of clothes.
"Here you go. Straight from the FA themselves. I told them I wanted to be the one to deliver it."
You stare at the paper in shock. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. "I...Didn't think I was qualified for this. My age, you know?"
Sarina just shrugs. "It's a split role, of sorts. I want to keep you in the senior setup. You can't be my assistant coach properly without your A license. The FA won't budge on that. That being said, I told them I want to keep you on my staff and they've compromised."
You stare at the paper in your hands. A dual role.
"You'll remain....The assistant to my assistant for the senior team as and when we need you. When we don't need you..."
"The under-seventeens."
"They have a need for a new assistant coach," Sarina shrugs," You think you're up for the challenge?"
You grin. "I think you've more than prepared me for it."
