34: His Sweatshirts and Me

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"Football is not pointless", I was being lectured  by an eight year old over what the purpose of football truly is. Honestly the world could come up with any sport and people would still be excited to see it. Why is America so obsessed with it? I never could understand that.

I had no better plans on a Saturday, so here I was lounging on Luca's large couch and eating popcorn until we were both hungry to try to find something for lunch. Luca was a health nut, his fridge was organized and it didn't seem like he did it. He doesn't have the patience for that, but everything is in it's perfect place, it was strange to snoop and even be in his house without him here.

My phone buzzed as I flipped it over, and a selfie from Luca had been sent, as he stood overlooking the crowd.

Luca: wish you were here, about to go on

His text made my stomach and heart ripple, I had heard that little phrase many times last night. I had never heard him beg for anything more, than for me to be by his side. Or at least for him to see me last night, it's not my fault he's halfway across the country. But I missed him, I missed kissing him as a little good luck charm.

I typed back I miss you. Good luck, your fan club is watching . I sent him an image of Ray, sitting eagerly and watching the large tv. I swear he loved this house more than Luca did, he had a tv in every room, his snack bar, had fully stocked snacks. This house was like a dream island, and we were enjoying it for all it had to offer.

And the only thing Ray had any interest in watching was football, and I on the other hand was looking up Christmas gifts, online shopping was my savior today, and like the snob Luca is he has Amazon prime. Who would pay for that? He would, he definitely would. Not that I needed an overflow of packets coming when Ray was here, but it was nice to think I was all posh and rich using his card.

I was thankful I hadn't caved and went with Luca to the largest mall in America, my feet were killing me and I know I would've been in no shape to get up and walk miles in that unreasonably large mall.

"I used your football terms yesterday, looks like Luca owes you a tub of ice cream", I told Ray as he shot up all excited. I was still amused that they were making bets about me behind my back.

"I'll teach you some more, maybe he'll get me a sundae, next time", he said, all happy and giddy. I got up off the couch, walking towards the kitchen, looking for something to make, searching against his very sanitary kitchen for some pancakes and waffles.

Ray's eyes were glued to the tv as I started making the batter, he cheered up in the air and came and grabbed me.

"Look it's Luca", Ray pointed as a group of men ran out in matching uniforms, but I quickly found him, number 12, leading the team onto the field.

Ray took a seat back, sitting on the edge the rest of the game and as I called him for lunch, the scores were tied and the game was paused.

"You can eat in the middle, come on", I guided him towards the table, presenting my prized possessions of chicken and waffles, considering we had some from last night. He doubled up on pancakes and took a chicken piece, and started walking back to the area where the game is still going on.

"It's called the halftime show", he said annoyed, making his way back to the couch.

"Eat with me, please", I asked him, but the game already started again and I knew his attention if he had sat with me would somehow still be on the game. So I ate my lunch in peace and quiet, listening to Ray shout up on the couch in celebration and groan in anger.

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