Home is Where the Heart is - Pablo Gavi

Chapter 3: My Own Ride

Once my uncle disappears up the stairs I get up from my kitchen stool and head to the living room. Gavi follows me. We both sit down on the couch, a few cushions apart.

"So training this morning was fun," I try to break the silence, referring to the conversation with all of his teammates.

He looks up at me and smiles, seeming to be remembering something. "It was."

"I always imagined pro training was hard and a serious work place." When I had played on competitive teams back home we had trained fairly seriously, but we were still kids. The work was hard and tiring, but there was never more pressure then I could take. The whole point of the team was for enjoyment and growth.

"Training is hard," he confirms, putting his arm on the back of the couch, "but we're all playing the game we love with the people we love."

My heart melts a little and he breaks our eye contact to look down into his lap, his cheeks reddening.

"That's sweet," I say. "I never knew pro teams got so close." The chance of someone getting sold to another club is permanently existent; I always thought it would be better to keep your distance and refrain from getting hurt when they do inevitably leave.

"They're my family," he breathes, still grinning to himself. I have a feeling by getting him to talk about his teammates he will be more likely to open up to me. "What about you?" He looks up at me again.

"Me?" I ask.

He nods. "What do you do for fun?"

I search inside my mind for the answer. Soccer seams like the obvious response; I love it and have always wanted to continue to grow. But when I think about the best nights of my life, I'm with Alana and Evie. "Usually go out with my friends," I tell him. "But that's not really an option right now."

"Then why'd you come here," Gavi asks, "to Barcelona?" Genuine confusion plays on his face. I have a feeling he'd do anything to stay with the people he loves; and that he doesn't plan on leaving Barca anytime soon.

I shrug. "It was too perfect of an opportunity. I mean I get to see this beautiful city, and spend time with my uncle. As much as I didn't want to leave my friends, I know I'll see them soon. They're planning to coming visit in a couple weeks."

"Do I get to meet them?" Gavi's question surprises me but before I get the chance to form a response a clattering comes from the stairs.

"Meet who?" my uncle asks as he jogs down the last few steps. I was right, he's in another track suit. This one is similar to the one he wore when he picked me up from the airport: navy blue with no Barcelona FC logo on it. I guess we're going incognito today.

Gavi stands up from the couch and I do the same, although much slower.

"Can I get one of those tracksuits?" I ask Xavi, following him over to the front door. "One of the ones with the Barca logo on it?"

"Sure." He pats down his pockets until he feels what he's looking for. "We'll get you all kitted out."

Gavi and I follow Xavi into the entrance way, the layout is very open. The format of Xavi's whole house is very bright, mostly white surfaces and plenty of windows for natural light to sparkle through.

"Does that mean I can come to the games?" I ask, hoping he says yes. It would be amazing to get to watch professional futbol live on a semi-regular basis.

"If you'd like." He slips his shoes on. "I'll go start the car"--he throws Gavi a lanyard of keys--"lock the door on your way out."

I'm bouncing on the balls of my feet when I realize and stop. My uncle hurries out of the house. "Do you not think I'm responsible enough to lock the door?" I call as he scurries down the driveway. I turn back to Gavi who's smirking. "For the record, I am responsible enough to lock a door."