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My death wasn't anything spectacular. I didn't die fighting for a cause greater than myself, nor was I killed trying to save someone's life in a way that would end my own, nor did I even get crushed while at work; I simply fell asleep and never woke up. Well, I did wake up, just not in the body I was in before. I had been reborn as a girl in a hospital not too far from where I had died in my sleep. My new parents named me Olivia, a name I would have to get used to hearing for the next seventeen years. I would try to make my friends call me Ollie as a way to preserve some masculinity, but it never stuck, and most of them just called me Livy instead.

What I was able to do to preserve my masculinity was sports, just not the sports I played when I was young. I wasn’t much of a runner, so a good chunk of sports were off the table right away; I sank like a stone, so there went swimming; and finally, the schools I went to didn’t have both male and female teams for every sport so that just left basketball and volleyball. I chose the latter and excelled at it. I was the MVP for every season I played from 7th grade onwards. I wasn’t as much a rising star as Danielle from O'Boyle High, but when she graduated in my sophomore year, that left me and one other girl in the eyes of the colleges. That girl, a fellow sophomore named Sophia, would quickly become my rival.

Our schools already had a sports rivalry, but it was personal for us. We both knew that all eyes were on us, and my whole life began to revolve around it. I had a boyfriend, and I really did love him, but I had to take a break from him just to focus on getting better than Sophia. When the state championship final rolled around, and it was between my school and Sophia’s, it was literally all I could think about. My boyfriend and new family were in the stands cheering me on, but I could see my widow in the stands for the opposite team. I was confused; I never saw her at any of the previous games, only the guy who I realized was her new husband. That man was always the one with Sophia after the games, and I became furious at the thought of my rival being the daughter of my wife’s new husband.

“Oh, I’m going to fucking kill her this time,” I said as I stretched, the popping joints only making my rage more potent.

“Love the enthusiasm, Livy!” My coach patted me on the back.

When I actually saw Sophia, I could almost burst from the pent-up rage inside me. The way she tied up her blonde hair, the black lines she put under her blue eyes like some football player, and the way she walked with all the confidence of a queen. When I saw she was approaching me, I felt like a rabid dog chained to a post.

“So, this is it, Olivia,” Sophia said.

“So it is,” I said with the most forced smile I could muster, trying to mask my unbridled rage.

“May the best woman win.” Sophia outstretched her hand.

“May the best woman win.” I shook her hand and hoped my grip hurt her just a little.

“Hey, would you look at that?” Sophia turned and pointed at my wife in the stands. “My mom actually showed up this time instead of just my stepdad.”

“That was your stepdad? I never knew your parents were divorced,” I said, my rage being washed away in a sea of confusion.

“No, they weren’t divorced. My father died before I was born, but I can’t have his last name on my jersey for stupid reasons.” Sophia looked me dead in the eye. “I swear, if you use this against me tonight, I know a perfectly good dumpster no one will ever find your body in.”

“I-I swear.” I threw my hands up in the air.

When the games began, I no longer had my rage. I kept up the act of being Sophia’s furious rival for the team’s morale, but my long-forgotten paternal nature made me consider doing something I would’ve never thought before: I would throw the game for the sake of my daughter. However, I was still too good at the game and had a team counting on me, so it was more of a thought in the back of my mind than anything. As the game went on, we were two for two, leading to one last set. I was beginning to feel exhausted, and I could tell Sophia was too. The fifth set began, and we were in the same back-and-forth we always got trapped in, but with one slip-up that may have been my subconscious forcing me to fail, we lost.

I was in a swirl of emotions after the game; my dreams had been crushed, but my daughters were realized. My team and family tried to console me, but I was just out of it. That was until Sophia came over to talk with me in private. We talked for a while—I might’ve cried in her arms—but we came out of it as friends. We would luckily both get scholarships at the same university, and we would be on the same team as Danielle. Sophia and I now live in the same dorm together, and I may or may not’ve brought my boyfriend in a few times while I thought she was sleeping.

Description
Source

Text:

My death wasn't anything spectacular. I didn't die fighting for a cause greater than myself, nor was I killed trying to save someone's life in a way that would end my own, nor did I even get crushed while at work; I simply fell asleep and never woke up. Well, I did wake up, just not in the body I was in before. I had been reborn as a girl in a hospital not too far from where I had died in my sleep. My new parents named me Olivia, a name I would have to get used to hearing for the next seventeen years. I would try to make my friends call me Ollie as a way to preserve some masculinity, but it never stuck, and most of them just called me Livy instead.

What I was able to do to preserve my masculinity was sports, just not the sports I played when I was young. I wasn’t much of a runner, so a good chunk of sports were off the table right away; I sank like a stone, so there went swimming; and finally, the schools I went to didn’t have both male and female teams for every sport so that just left basketball and volleyball. I chose the latter and excelled at it. I was the MVP for every season I played from 7th grade onwards. I wasn’t as much a rising star as Danielle from O'Boyle High, but when she graduated in my sophomore year, that left me and one other girl in the eyes of the colleges. That girl, a fellow sophomore named Sophia, would quickly become my rival.

Our schools already had a sports rivalry, but it was personal for us. We both knew that all eyes were on us, and my whole life began to revolve around it. I had a boyfriend, and I really did love him, but I had to take a break from him just to focus on getting better than Sophia. When the state championship final rolled around, and it was between my school and Sophia’s, it was literally all I could think about. My boyfriend and new family were in the stands cheering me on, but I could see my widow in the stands for the opposite team. I was confused; I never saw her at any of the previous games, only the guy who I realized was her new husband. That man was always the one with Sophia after the games, and I became furious at the thought of my rival being the daughter of my wife’s new husband.

“Oh, I’m going to fucking kill her this time,” I said as I stretched, the popping joints only making my rage more potent.

“Love the enthusiasm, Livy!” My coach patted me on the back.

When I actually saw Sophia, I could almost burst from the pent-up rage inside me. The way she tied up her blonde hair, the black lines she put under her blue eyes like some football player, and the way she walked with all the confidence of a queen. When I saw she was approaching me, I felt like a rabid dog chained to a post.

“So, this is it, Olivia,” Sophia said.

“So it is,” I said with the most forced smile I could muster, trying to mask my unbridled rage.

“May the best woman win.” Sophia outstretched her hand.

“May the best woman win.” I shook her hand and hoped my grip hurt her just a little.

“Hey, would you look at that?” Sophia turned and pointed at my wife in the stands. “My mom actually showed up this time instead of just my stepdad.”

“That was your stepdad? I never knew your parents were divorced,” I said, my rage being washed away in a sea of confusion.

“No, they weren’t divorced. My father died before I was born, but I can’t have his last name on my jersey for stupid reasons.” Sophia looked me dead in the eye. “I swear, if you use this against me tonight, I know a perfectly good dumpster no one will ever find your body in.”

“I-I swear.” I threw my hands up in the air.

When the games began, I no longer had my rage. I kept up the act of being Sophia’s furious rival for the team’s morale, but my long-forgotten paternal nature made me consider doing something I would’ve never thought before: I would throw the game for the sake of my daughter. However, I was still too good at the game and had a team counting on me, so it was more of a thought in the back of my mind than anything. As the game went on, we were two for two, leading to one last set. I was beginning to feel exhausted, and I could tell Sophia was too. The fifth set began, and we were in the same back-and-forth we always got trapped in, but with one slip-up that may have been my subconscious forcing me to fail, we lost.

I was in a swirl of emotions after the game; my dreams had been crushed, but my daughters were realized. My team and family tried to console me, but I was just out of it. That was until Sophia came over to talk with me in private. We talked for a while—I might’ve cried in her arms—but we came out of it as friends. We would luckily both get scholarships at the same university, and we would be on the same team as Danielle. Sophia and I now live in the same dorm together, and I may or may not’ve brought my boyfriend in a few times while I thought she was sleeping.