You can't be my mum (a Lucy Bronze fanfic) - Book 1

Chapter 35 - finally

A/N - just thought I'd say that I know Lucy has signed for Barca at this point in real life, but I'm not including it yet. All of that drama will come later on ;)

Rosie's POV:

Being on England camp has been an experience like no other. It was like our very own English bubble where nothing from the outside world was allowed in. The 2 weeks I had already spent had been so much fun and I hoped that we would all be together on camp until the 1st of August - the day after the final. 

Despite Keira's parents being at every single game so far, I hadn't managed to speak even a single word to them. Both Keira and Lucy desperately wanted me to meet them, it was just about finding the time with all of our busy schedules. As we were all eating lunch, Keira spoke, "I'll tell mum and dad to stay behind after the game for a bit. Is that alright?". I beamed, "yep. Can't wait to meet them". Lucy added on, "finally". I was feeling slightly nervous, but reminded myself that if they brought up such an incredible person like Keira, they must be just as wonderful people as she is.

It was the day of the quarter finals against Spain and you could tell that everyone was feeling the difference of the knockout stages. On the bus to the stadium, most of the girls kept themselves to themselves, either watching something with headphones on, or listening to music. Ella announced, "if we don't win, our Euros journey ends tonight". Everyone remained silent until I tried to lighten the mood a bit, "well you better win then". This eased the tension and Leah said, "guys...don't think negative. We are going to win this game, and the next and then we'll win the final. And then after that we'll win the bloody world cup next year". Everyone cheered Leah on her little motivational speech as we pulled up to the stadium. 

A sea of supporters crowded round the coach, welcoming the team into the Amex Stadium in Brighton. Throughout the group stages, every single game and stadium had been sold out, and this one was no different. Hours till kick off and thousands of fans had turned up, eager for the upcoming match. 

This game would be the toughest one yet. All of the teams in our group were good, but Spain were on another level. Many of their players playing for Barcelona - one of the best teams in Europe. If we won this game, we would then be against another level of teams - Sweden, world number 2, or Belgium. But I had complete faith in the girls that they would finall bring football home and finish what the men failed to do last year. 

After the pitch inspection, the girls began to file into the tunnel back towards the dressing room. I caught Keira by her arm and pulled her back. She faced me with a confused look, but her questions were answered when I pulled off my hoodie and turned around so she could see my back: Walsh and the number 4. I had worn Lucy's shirt to all of the games so far, my Walsh shirt simply hanging up in the corner of my wardrobe. This morning when I was picking out what to wear, it only felt right to put it on, especially as I was meeting her parents after. I turned back around to see her reaction. She said barely above a whisper, "I can't belive you're wearing my shirt". I shrugged my shoulders and replied, "Yeah, I can't support one mum and not the other". She pulled me into a hug and I added on jokingly, "I also have to make a good first impression for your parents". She chuckled and pulled back, keeping her hand on my shoulder as we walked into the dressing room side by side. 

All of the girls were sat talking amongst themselves as Keira and I walked in. I had never been in a dressing room of a football stadium before. Even though I had plenty of opportunities, I decided to give the players their own space before the game. I tried to protest today, but Keira was having none of it, dragging me in with her. Secretly, I knew that she wanted everyone to see that I had her shirt on, especially Lucy. Unsurprisingly, Lucy was the first one to notice and she announced, "I feel abandoned". I rolled my eyes at her and Keira just smirked. I said, "I have no idea who's shirt i'm going to wear if we get to the final". Beth joined in the conversation, "you can wear mine". I shook my head and laughed, "nope. No one even knows who Beth Mead is anyway so there wouldn't be any point". She pretended to be hurt at my joke that she saw as an insult. Not only is she lead goal scorer, but she has an incredible amount of assists so far, a player of the match trophy and a hatrick. Pretty much everyone in England knows Beth Mead's name.