Home is Where the Heart is - Pablo Gavi

Chapter 19: The Aftermath

In amongst all the chaos my uncle comes up to me and gives me a hug. "I'm proud of you Isla."

"Thanks, that means a lot," I tell him as we pull out of the hug. Everyone around us is screaming in excitement and running around us as if they're chicken's with their heads cut off. Each time we're passed by any of my teammates they'll give both Xavi and I little love pats on our backs or shoulders. I love seeing all of them so happy, and sharing that joy with them.

"You should be proud of yourself," he adds pointedly.

"I am," I say, still smiling so widely it's probably not good for my own health.

Xavi purses his lips, the happiness becoming a shadow on his face.

"What?" I ask him, my own smile fading quickly. His abrupt switch in stature worries me.

"Now you don't have to," he prefaces, "but they need a player to interview about the game and they specifically requested you. It's totally up to you and we all completely understand if you don't want--"

"I'll do it," I say confidently, regaining my smile. I'm glad my uncle's worry was all for nothing. I feel on top of the world right now. It's a very dangerous feeling.

Xavi hands me off to a reporter. She appears nice enough, blonde hair dragged over her neutral colored shirt. She carries a microphone while she leads me over to a small area they have set up field side. All it really is is a backdrop and a large camera pointing directly at my face. I can still see all the commotion occurring by our bench, all over the field and in the stands. I can see Gavi waiting patiently for me, dusting his shoes with the white chalk bordering the field.

"We're here with today's Man of the Match, Isla Hernandez," the interviewer starts suddenly. I look back at the camera quickly and act as if I'm at a calm lake where even the birds aren't singing. I smile at the camera in acknowledgment of what the reporter said. "Today was your first game with FC Barcelona, no?"

I'm so glad this lady speaks English. "Yes it was," I reply confidently. I have a lot of experience with public speaking from events in my home town. As long as I don't have to read off a script, I'm good.

"And quite the debut it was," she continues, reading off her own script behind the camera, "two goals and one assist, making you a contributor to all three of tonight's goals for your team."

I smile again; it's not hard considering how great of a day it has been. I honestly don't know what could make it any better. "I couldn't have done it without my team, they've been so amazing in helping me prepare, both physically and mentally for this match." Number one rule when you're getting interviewed: you control the interview, they want to talk to you.

"Yes I can imagine, you all have an insane amount of chemistry, especially you and Gavi," she tries. I can tell she's fishing, but doesn't want to straight up come out and say it.

"Gavi and I get along really well, it helps that we're the youngest two on the team," I say. Ask me how old I am, I think. That's the only way I'm casually getting out of this relationship trap, and I gave her a perfect out.

"Are you two together?" she asks.

I groan internally. "I really wish people would stop asking me that," I say, adding a hint of a laugh to my voice, trying to make it a joke.

She doesn't get the hint, or if she does, she doesn't grant my wish of moving on. "My apologies for prying, but it is the topic everyone is wondering about," she says, her voice completely serious. Sorry doesn't mean anything if you don't fix the mistake you made.

I puff out a breath. "No, we're not."

"That's all we have for you today," she says and does a brief outro for the interview. I stand there, trying to keep the once genuine, now fake smile plastered on my face. She didn't ask me one question about the game or my goals, only about my suspected relationship.