Little Sanchez - USWNT

Chapter 58

Ainsley's POV

"Are you ready, Ainsley?"

"I don't have a choice, do I?" I asked, looking in the mirror and putting on more lip gloss.

"Not really."

"Alright. Let's do this." I sighed, putting my phone in the pocket of my jeans and walking out of my room.

I sat down in the chair in front of all of the cameras and took a deep breath. I plastered a smile on my face as I was greeted by the interviewer behind the camera. 

Right now, I'm the center of attention, something I absolutely hate. This is something not even I could find a way out of - interviews for the documentary. 

I got asked a few questions about my offside goal, and some about how I became a staple of the starting lineup. I got asked about my teammates, specifically Lindsey and Julie. I wasn't asked about Ashley until the very end, she was only brought up when I mentioned her. 

But when it came to questions about her, I almost broke down. 

"Now Ainsley, this one is a bit more emotional. Obviously you are very close with your sister Ashley. She didn't get on the field once in four games. Now, she's obviously older, more experienced, and has been on the team longer; did your amount of minutes or role on the team have any effect or strain on your relationship or closeness?" 

"A little bit, yeah." I nodded, staring into my lap. "Yeah." 

"Could you elaborate on that?" He asked after a few seconds of silence. 

"Why do you fucking care?" I snapped as I stood up. "You're dipping into my personal fucking business."

"And there is is." Sighed one of our PR people that was sitting next to the interviewer behind the camera. "Ainsley, we've been through this a million times. Don't be emotional. Just answer the question please." 

I rolled my eyes and sat down again, my arms crossed over my chest like a child. I took a deep breath and gave them what they wanted. 

"To tell you the complete and honest truth..." Another deep breath, this one shaky. "She can hardly look at me. We both know it wasn't my fault, but I think...I think for her, I'm a constant reminder of what she believes to be failure, which couldn't be further from the truth. I kinda feel the same way...I can hardly look in the mirror without seeing my own failure, as my face was the picture on many of the articles on the major sports sites that talked about our failures, not our successes. But Ash and I...we haven't talked much, but I still love her all the same. She's my best friend and she will be forever. In my eyes, she'll always be the best soccer player ever. I play this damn sport because of her, I learned everything I know from her, and I'm here on earth because of her. She's still the best person I've ever known. She's done nothing but take care of me for as long as I can remember." 

I knew I should stop there, but everything came spilling out. 

"My mom never took care of either of us. My dad did everything for us. When I say everything, I mean everything. She was a drug addict, alcoholic, a terrible person, everything. She was emotionally and physically abusive and negligent towards us, specifically me. My dad kicked her out a number of times, but she kept fucking coming back, and he kept trying to fucking help her. The issue was, she knew where we played and practiced soccer, knew where we went to school, everything like that. Just as we were about to take legal action, finally do something to stop her, my dad got diagnosed with cancer. Immediately after that, she split. She left us completely and totally alone to take care of my dad, not that I expected anything less. All of that weighed on me so heavily. I got myself mixed in with the wrong crowd. I was self-destructing and not even thinking about how much my dad and sister needed me. Ashley gave me the fucking wake up call. She beat the shit out of me. I don't know if I was supposed to say that." I paused to laugh a little bit.

I wiped at the tears on my cheeks being careful not to ruin my makeup too badly. Another deep breath told me I didn't want to go on, but I knew I had to. 

"But that was my wake up call. I changed everything about myself from my bad habits to my grades to the amount of work I put into soccer. We lost our dad not too long after that. But every time we take the field, we play for him." 

I paused to stare at the ground for a few seconds. 

"So this little bump in the road won't come between us for too long. She's grounded me my entire life, and I kept her going. We've been to hell and back together and I couldn't have asked for a better person to go through everything with." 

I was ready to leave, but the guy had other ideas. 

"So based off the hospital incident that happened at the beginning of this year, you have seen your mom since then." 

"A few other times as well. She stalked the shit out of us at the beginning of the year. It fizzed. I'm not sure what happened..." I trailed off as her degrading words spiraled in my head. They echoed through my brain, and no matter how much I tried to ignore them, they wouldn't stop. 

"Ainsley. Ainsley." The interviewer said. I comprehended none of it. "Ms. Sanchez? Ainsley?" 

"Fuck. I'm sorry." I shook my head and blinked away the tears forming in my eyes. Shit. I showed far too much emotion in the latter end of this interview. 

"I have one last question for you, and then I'll let you go, alright?" He said, and I nodded. 

It was only then that I was hyperaware of all the journalists sitting around the room. I was too aware of the amount of eyes on me, too aware that I had a bunch of cameras around. I was very suddenly too aware that there was not a single comforting person in the room. I felt lonely. I was going to break down. 

I was yanked from my thoughts just in time. 

"If this question isn't one you'd like to answer, you can stand up and leave if you'd-" 

"Then why are you fucking asking?" I snapped once again as I stood up, earning a few looks and another sign from our PR guy. I'm 99% sure he was hired just to watch me, but honestly I don't care for him much. He gave me a look and I slowly sat back down, preparing myself for what I was about to be asked. 

"It's all but confirmed that you are dating Trinity Rodman, is it true?" 

I felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips, and then I let it take over my face. 

"April. We've been together since April of this year." I looked up when I heard the door open, feeling my face light up when she walked in. 

"Thank you, Ainsley." The interviewer said, and I jumped up to pull her into a hug. 

"Text me when you're done." I told her.  

"I will." She said. "That's my shirt, by the way." 

"I don't care." 

She laughed. 

"I love that you don't care."