ASSISTANT
Chapter 7: A Muddy Pair
It wasn't long before Lucia, once an onlooker, partook in the frolics and festivities on the sodden fields of St. Hilda's with the same fervor as Emma. The spirit of the game and the infectious enthusiasm of her peers had seeped into her bones, robbing her of any former reservations about the liberating feeling of mud between her fingers.
The sight of the sticky, gooey pitch after a night of drizzle was enough to set Emma's heart racing with excitement. She bounded over to Lucia, who was already lacing up her boots—a routine that held the same anticipation as donning armor for battle.
"Lucia! Oh, you have to come out today!" Emma pleaded, her eyes gleaming with the promise of adventure. "The field's perfect for a good splatter-fest!"
A wry smile tugged at Lucia’s lips as she raised an eyebrow. Only a few weeks prior, the suggestion might have derailed her, but not anymore. "A splatter-fest, you say? Sounds marvelous," she replied with a chuckle, a statement she never imagined she might one day utter—and mean.
As the two girls made their way onto the pitch, the sky gifted them with a reprieve; the sun peeked through the clouds, casting a golden glow on the quagmire before them. The contrast only made the mud seem more inviting, beckoning them to dive in.
Without delay, the girls began their ritual. They started with some basic passes, a way to warm up, but their hands were already caked with thick, sticky mud, turning the ball into a slippery orb. Laughter erupted each time the ball escaped their grasp, plopping down into the muck with a satisfying squelch.
"Alright, heads up!" Lucia called out, tossing the ball toward Emma with a deliberate arc.
Emma dashed toward it, the suction of the mud pulling at her boots with every step. With a gleeful squeal, she leaped forward, arms outstretched, not only securing the ball but also gathering a generous splattering of mud along her legs, which by now had become something of a custom.
Lucia couldn't help but laugh, sprinting to join her friend who was now lying on her back, grinning from ear to ear as she admired the mess she had become. "You're not just winning at rugby, Emma, but I think you've just set a new record for becoming one with the pitch," Lucia teased as she offered a hand to pull her up.
Gooey clumps of earth clung to their kits, but it was a cherished uniform change that bonded them more closely not just to rugby, but to each other as well. As fourth-former and first-former, their camaraderie was unlikely at the outset, but on the field, rank held no sway.
Setting up makeshift goal posts using their jackets, they practiced conversion kicks. Mud flew in all directions, sticking to their faces and hair, but the two warriors of St. Hilda's were undeterred and joyous in their resolve.
Each meeting of boot and ball sent a spray of mud arcing into the air, a natural celebration of their efforts, regardless of whether it went over or veered wide. Emma had a knack for these, her jubilation reaching new heights as she landed one particularly tricky shot, prompting a victory dance that ended with a deliberate, gleeful plop back onto the squelchy ground.
Lucia was quick to join her, both lying side by side, forming mud angels much to Emma's delight. There they lay, two pals surrounded by an aura of mirth and muck, embodying the robust heart of St. Hilda's.
"You know," Lucia said, turning her head to meet Emma's gaze, "I think I could get used to these private practice sessions of ours."
Emma's smile was radiant, "Really?"
"Really," Lucia affirmed, the sun warming their chilled bones as they lay there, sinking ever so slightly into the forgiving earth that had become their tutor, their playground, and their shared passion.
Now when they rose, stark imprints remained—a pair of angels, one larger, one smaller—silent witnesses to the bond that had been formed and fortified by the sacred mud of St. Hilda's. They would return again and again, two souls united by the thrill of the game, the embrace of the mud, and the unspoken agreement that, here on this field, they were equals in every way that truly mattered.