Snap Out Of It - Alexia Putellas

She Was Better Than Me

Alexia's POV

It was just Alana and I out on the pitch, Jonatan had left a long while ago and I assumed he wouldn't return until the ninety minute training session was over. An hour and a half we were forced to spend together each week. An hour and a half I had to spend with the golden girl of the team, who'd come along and messed with my head night and day.

We were practising a shooting drill in silence, I would pass to Alana and then she'd shoot over and over again. These were skills we'd had since our first training session with a kids club.

But I'd noticed Alana only ever shot with her left foot recently, though when I'd watched her play in the WSL, she used both which meant the threat of her attacks were much larger. I guessed nobody had pointed it out to her seeing as she was still scoring amazing goals each match and I probably should've kept my mouth closed seeing as she was my competition for the Ballon d'Or and didn't trust a word I said, but the words had fallen from my mouth before I'd been able to hold them back. 

"You only ever shoot with your left foot," I said. 

Alana stopped in her tracks and turned around, the ball rolled to the side of her feet and the blonde didn't even bother to stop it. Her face had fallen slightly as her lips parted, "It's the ankle you injured," there was a slight anger in her words but mostly her voice was just hopeless. 

My stomach instantly dropped, my mouth tasted like iron and my mind went blank; how could I have been so foolish? "Oh, I um-"

"You forgot," Alana cut in with a sudden sharpness to her words, the once blunt knife was now ready to strike.  

I was riddled with this guilt, I might've won the trophy for my nation and Nana but I'd hurt Alana in the process, I'd taken that chance from her which wasn't ever mine to steal. I'd always known it was a bad tackle, I'd known when I went in for the tackle and I'd been aware when I ran away, somehow avoiding a red card.
But I'd done it for Nana. I'd done it for Hunter. I'd done it for my beloved home country. I'd done it for my friends and the team I'd considered family, when I had little left of my own. That's how I'd justified it in my head, that's how I'd walked away blind to the blood spilled on my hands. 
I hadn't tackled Alana thinking she was a person, I hadn't thought about anything except from making Nana and Hunter proud. It went onto when Alana joined Barcelona, still to me, she wasn't a person; buried somewhere deep inside I was hiding from the vulgarity of my actions. 
To be honest Alana was right. I had forgotten.  

"I'm sorry," I looked to the floor, suddenly not able to handle to look on Alana's face because she was no longer a stranger I could convince myself I hated.

"You already said that at the party," Alana's voice was never loud, she didn't seem to be searching for a fight but instead fought for me to understand something I'd hidden from for so long, "Did you not think I already knew that I never use my right foot anymore? Did you think it was just coincidence?"

I took a step back even though she wasn't moving towards me, suddenly the meters between us weren't enough, I wished I could've moved back in time as well and somehow undo it all. But would I have taken back the tackle? I don't think so; it would always be something I hated myself for, but I'd done it for Nana. I'd done it for my grieving sister who refused to speak to me. I'd done it for them, everything was for them. 
They were all I had. All I wanted to do was make them proud. 

"I am sorry Alana," I finally looked up at her.

Alana took a shaky breath and ran a hand through her hair which had been tangled by the wind, "Why did you do it? You said before that the tournament meant a lot to you, but it meant the world to everyone, don't you know that?"