I swear no feeling beats waking up in his arms. I groan as the sun peaks through the gap in the curtains and stings my eyes. I turn into Gavi and burry my head in the crook of his neck to escape the glare.
At my movement he wakes up too and kisses me on the forehead, murmuring a good morning, "Buenos días mi amor, ¿cómo te sientes? (Good morning my love, how are you feeling)"
"Buenos días," I respond. "Pretty good, still tired."
"Than go back to sleep mi amor," he says, tightening his arms around me. "We have plenty of time before we need to be awake."
I grunt as I start to sit up, not wanting to go back to sleep even if I am tired. Gavi protests to my movement and stays laying down, his one arm now resting around my back and the other placed gently on my bare stomach. I reach over to the night stand and grab my phone, opening it up to Instagram. I always check Instagram first because it's where I find the majority of opinions on Barca. When it loads I check our team account as well as the Laliga and Premier league accounts, nothing much. I click over to my twitter and the first thing I notice is we're both trending. Oh?
I click onto my name and everything is about Gavi and I kissing on the pitch and confirming our relationship. And none of it is positive.
I knew there were rumors, but I was hoping they weren't true... Gavi would be better off with literally anyone else.
Does she honestly think she'll make it in the men's league? There's a reason boys and girls don't play together, boys are much stronger.
What's he thinking, she's not even pretty.
All she is is a nepo baby, she's not even that good of a player, they handed those goals to her.
I won't believe it until it comes out of Gavi's mouth.
She's not even in shape, I bet under that jersey she's fat.
As a Barca fan, Xavi out.
He probably pities her.
She'll never be good enough for him.
Who even is she?
On and on.
Suddenly I'm self conscious of him having his hand on my stomach. I throw down my phone on the bed beside me. This is what I was afraid of.
"What's the matter mi Princesa?" Gavi asks, his eyes still closed. He rubs delicate circles on my stomach with his thumb.
"Nothing," I mutter, crossing my arms. I don't want to let it get to me. I can't admit it is getting to me.
Gavi's eyes flutter open and he peers up at me. "Tell me what it is please," he says softly, adding a small pout to his lip.
"People," I reply shortly, avoiding his gaze.
He reaches out. "Let me see." I hand him my phone and he opens it, met with everyone's negative comments. His jaw tightens increasingly every comment he skims. He sets my phone down. "That's all bullshit and you know it. I love you. I don't want to be with anyone else. Ever. You have earned your spot on the team and you should never let anyone tell you otherwise. Did you get the chance because of your uncle? Yes, but you earned your chance to stay. Nobody works as hard as you do, and you know what they say, hard work beats talent when talent doesn't work hard. And you are gorgeous to me inside and out, it doesn't matter what anyone else says. What's that line... Oh, romance is not dead if you keep it just yours. We can keep this just ours."
"No we can't!" I sigh audibly. "We announced it and now the whole world is against us, including my uncle and our coach."
"Private not secret," he whispers, rubbing his hand up and down my back.
My chest loosens.
He notices and continues, "Isla you're my best friend. I never want to have to pretend I'm not in love with you again, out on the pitch or in the privacy of our home. We can be us and together and ignore what everyone else has to say because it doesn't matter. I love you more than the moon loves the sun as it waits months for an eclipse just for them to get to see each other for a few measly hours."
I grin, looking down at him. "I love your solar system love speeches."
He reaches up and kisses me on the forehead. "Thank Aurora. Now I'm going back to sleep." I chuckle as he lays back down and wraps both his arms around my torso. At first the contact is comforting, but then the insecurity resurfaces and I can't help but wonder if what all those comments were saying is true.
Several hours later when Gavi is no longer sleepy, he drives me back to Pedri's to grab my car.
"What if he asks why your hair is wet?" Gavi questions as we're pulling up behind my car, parked on the side of the street in front of Pedri's house. We had a shower at the hotel before coming here and both our heads of hair remain damp.
"Then I'll tell him I took a shower at Pedri's," I respond, reaching for the door handle to get out of his car.
He stops me. "What if he asks why you showered at Pedri's?"
"Pablo," I say seriously. "Relax, he's not going to quiz me and if he does I'll send you a voice memo of it so you can study it incase he gives you a similar pop quiz later," I add sarcastically. Gavi is way overthinking this, our story is covered.
His shoulders drop. "I don't want you to be in trouble. If you do get in trouble blame it all on me, the worst he can do to me is put me on the bench."
"Isn't that the worst he could do to me?" I ask, genuinely thinking if there's something worse he has the power to do.
"He could send you back to Canada," Gavi suggests.
"Good point. I'll lie good." I jump out of his car, waving goodbye as I walk the short distance to mine.
Gavi waits until I drive away before he follows me, turning right at the next set of lights while I have to turn left.
Back at Xavi's house, I hop out of my car and go inside. I hope he's not home so that I don't have to produce the elaborate lie I have concocted and serve it to him. Of course I am out of luck for the week.
I open the door and straight away see Xavi in the kitchen. "Buenos días sobrina," he says, not looking up from his iPad. I hear the commentary from a match coming from it. He's probably analyzing our game from yesterday. He closes the iPad and the sound abruptly stops. "Come sit," he tells me, still avoiding me gaze.
I go over to him and sit across the island.
"Congratulations," he starts, "on the match yesterday, I don't think I got the chance to tell you that."
"You too," I say skeptically, "I mean we won."
He slides his iPad off to the side. "And on your announcement."
"Thanks," I say awkwardly. I hadn't warned him about it prior and now I'm second guessing if I should have.
"The public taking it well?" he asks politely.
I slouch over the counter, resting my head in my arms. "Nope."
He nods a few times. "Told your parents?"
"Nope."
"They probably watched the match."
I shrug, lifting my head and body back up. "Probably."
"Don't you think you should've told them before having them find out on television?"
"Probably."
"Can we have a proper conversation?" he asks, frustrated with me.
I throw my hands up in the air. "I don't know what you want me to say!"
"Fine," he says, "I'll say something then. Your parents are coming to visit on Wednesday."
"This Wednesday?" I exclaim. They hadn't planned to visit at all, claimed they were too busy all summer with work.
"Yes."
"Two days from now?" I clarify, not believing it. How would they get the days off so short notice?
"Correct."
"And you're telling me this now?" I raise my voice. He knows what kind of relationship I have with my parents and how unhappy they're likely to be about the current situation.
"I only found out yesterday," he confesses.
The reason for their trip becomes clear. "They're coming to check out what's happening with Pablo and I?"
"Among other things," he claims vaguely.
"How long will they be here for?"
"A couple days, that's all they could get off work."
"Will they get to see the next game live?" That is really all I ask for from them, to support me in the one thing I'm actually good at, futbol. Unlike the rest of my life when they've been my biggest critiques.
"They're leaving Saturday night," he reluctantly tells me.
I get up from the counter abruptly and head upstairs. Unless I'm doing exactly what they want perfectly, I'm doing something wrong. That is all I'll be hearing and thinking about for the next several days.
Ugh, is all I think as I wake up in a cold bed the next morning. I want to go back to sleep. And Gavi isn't even here to sooth the harsh morning. I sound pathetic, I know. Yesterday was a tedious day. A drive to training turned into Xavi's car being assaulted; mostly garbage being thrown. I don't understand, the fans loved me three days ago. And yet some part of me always knew this was possible. The physical threat doesn't stress me out, but the online threat and how much power a large group of people hold, does. What if Gavi wakes up and decides I'm not worth it, that I'm too much of a mess?
He reassured me of the opposite many times during and after our training session yesterday and has been sweet and protective. He hasn't gotten visibly angry yet, but I have a feeling he's holding it in so I don't see it.
I roll over to grab my phone and speak of the devil, Gavi left me a message after I went to sleep last night:
I know you're sleeping mi amor, but I want you to know how much you are loved. You are amazing and do incredible things every single day. I have spent the past several years telling everyone I don't want a girlfriend because I want to focus on futbol, but the reason I always said that was because I was afraid I would never find a woman I love as much as I love the sport. I love you as much as I love futbol. With you it is not a competition between which I love more, but the ability to love both equally; and you share that love. I can't stay away from you, I only feel happy and at home when I'm with you. I'd rather not live than have to live without you. I need you and you're allowed to need me. I will always be here for you, remember that. Have an amazing day mi Princesa, te amo.
I start to tear up. Fuck I love him so much. I send back a message telling him so before throwing the covers off myself and using his message as motivation, deciding it's time to get up for the day. Maybe my life isn't so bad, as long as he's in it.
I run out the door and through the rain to Xavi's car. He decided I was getting a ride with him again today and I had no argument; I'm going to hangout with Gavi after training anyways.
By the time I'm in the car my hair is damp and my phone screen is slick with rain. I wipe the water off with the fabric of my long-sleeved training kit. Today is not a sunshine kind of day and it gives me fuel in a way. The rain is meant for a certain type of person, and I've always been a dance in the rain sort. Plus, people probably won't find waiting and tormenting us as fun when they are uncomfortable and soaked. Thank you rain.
At the facility we head inside, Xavi ducking from the rain and myself spinning in circles, my face turned up to the sky. He shoots me a concerned look. I roll my eyes, he has lost his youth.
Near the end of practice we're doing a sprinting drill, not quite a race but most of us are treating it like one. In the pouring rain we sprint half the field, from end line to center line, as fast as we can. I don't win, but I don't lose either. When we get to the finish line I feel more unsteady than normal so I lay down on the damp grass, playing it off as me being dramatic. All my clothes and skin, head to toe are already soaked so I'm not worried about getting even more wet from the ground.
Gavi comes over to me. "Are you okay?" he asks while slowly lowering himself to take a seat next to me. He's a little out of breath, but he could still run a full marathon.
I nod, trying to catch my own ragged breath. The cold sting to the rainy air makes it more difficult, but the sun still peaks out around the clouds and my hands rest on my forehead to block it.
"What did you eat today?" he asks, looking me over, concern etched on his face.
My eyebrows scrunch. "Not much, it's only nine in the morning and we've been here for three hours."
"But you had your protein shake like normal?"
I shrug, my hands blocking his view of my eyes. "Why?"
"Isla," he says sternly.
I sigh. "I ran out the door before I had a chance to grab it. It's fine, I'll drink it when I get home."
"What did you have for supper last night?" he asks.
I sit up abruptly. "Why do you care? I'm fine, I can take care of myself. Leave me alone," I snap.
He looks shocked. He starts to get up, "Fine--"
"No wait." I grab his arm before he gets out of reach and pull him down beside me again. He comes willingly. I lay my head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I know you care about me and that's why you're asking. I appreciate how much you care."
"What did you have for supper last night?" he repeats, staring off into the distance. I stare off too. The field has cleared of players and trainers as well as most of the equipment. Camp Nou is gorgeous when empty. It's peaceful.
"Nothing, didn't feel like eating." The confession sits in the air between us.
He looks over at me. "We're going out for lunch and dinner together after this, where ever you want. Fuck the diet, okay?"
I lift my head, starting to shake my head. "I don't need both--"
"Yes you do," he states firmly. "You burn thousands of calories daily, you need to eat to balance it out."
"I do eat!" I argue, finally meeting his eyes.
"One meal a day doesn't count and you know it."
I sigh. "Fine." I replace my head on his shoulder.
He rests his head on my. "I love you," he whispers.
"I love you too," I murmur, meaning it more than ever. I know I shouldn't be skipping meals, but it's simpler. Making food is so much work for only negative effects to come out of it. People aren't saying I'm fat because I work out a lot. I always thought enough exercise would counter balance anything I ate, but clearly that's not the case. "I was thinking I'd go on a run on the beach this afternoon."
"Sure we can do that," he says softly.
I lift my head of his shoulder, we need to head inside soon. "You don't have to come."
He pushes a piece of wet hair clinging to my forehead behind my ear. "I want to."
"Okay," I start to get up, "it's a plan." On my feet I take hold of his hands and yank him up as well. Together we walk hand in hand, swinging our interlocked fingers back ad forth, across the field and over to the dry tunnel. The rain coming down has lightened up, but it still caused everyone else to scurry on inside at the end of practice and leave us out here alone.
Gavi and I are among the last in the changeroom after practice. We're both ready to go, but busy chatting with our teammates; neither of us in any rush. Gavi in particular is having a very quiet conversation with Pedri I can't hear, even though I'm seated right next to them.
I'm lining my gear up as neatly as possible in my cubby as Xavi enters the room.
"Ready to go?" he says, swinging his lanyard around his fingers.
Gavi hears and comes to attention, looking over at me.
I gesture to Gavi. "We're going to get some lunch," I tell my uncle.
"I thought we could hangout this afternoon," Xavi says, "before your parents get here tomorrow."
Pedri gets the cue that this is about to be a very awkward conversation and excuses himself, leaving the three of us alone in the room.
My eyes fall to the floor.
"With all do respect," Gavi says, catching Xavi's gaze, "we've been following your wishes and not hanging out as much and honestly, it's killing me. We're responsible and trust worthy and I'd like for you to rethink your previous rules." My eyes shoot to his figure, that was bold of him.
Xavi's eyebrows are in the roof. "Excuse me?"
I widen my eyes at Gavi, what is he thinking? Xavi had been pretty clear about his rules previously.
Gavi swallows. "I don't see why there's a need to keep us apart. In fact, the more time we spend together the more in sync we become and that translates onto the field. Win win."
"Lose lose," corrects Xavi. "If she comes home pregnant one day my sister is going to kill me and I am going to feel like I failed her."
Gavi is stunned into silence. Now I don't think he wants to have kids right now, I certainly don't, but if it did happen he would embrace that child. My parents however would see that as me fucking up and disown me for a while.
"I'm not going to get pregnant," I state confidently. Now I'm not about to go into detail that we're using protection and I'm on birth control to my uncle, but I've got it covered. "And if I did it wouldn't be your fault."
"My sister trusted me with her child," Xavi says passionately, talking with his hands.
"My parents sent me away because they didn't want the burden I am around anymore!" I exclaim. "You were simply the willing candidate." Everyone goes silent. I've been holding that one in for a while. "I was once their pride and joy, now I'm a verbal punching bag. I will never be good enough for them so I've stopped trying."
Gavi pulls me into a hug as I try and hold back tears. God I'm a mess today. "See," Gavi says over my shoulder to Xavi, "keeping us apart isn't the right thing, you need to trust us like you trust us on the pitch."
Xavi sighs and although I can't see him I imagine he's pinching his temple. "Fine. You're right." I feel Gavi perk up and I'm definitely smiling of relief. "You handle your parents as you see fit," he tells me, "and I'll take the hit for it."
I get up, wiping a tear from my cheek and go over to my uncle, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek. "Gracais tio."
He pats my back. "You owe me a goal on Sunday," he jokes.
My smile only grows. "I'll do my best."
"You always do."
I go back over to Gavi who takes me in his arms. "Where to for lunch?" he asks.
The next afternoon my parents are arriving at the airport. I decide not to bring Gavi with Xavi and I so they don't immediately hate him upon seeing him.
The reunion is short and clipped as we get quickly into the car as they only have carry on bags. In the car I sit in the back with my mom as Xavi drives. The ride is quiet as we all listen to Xavi's calm playlist. A playlist I'm certain he specifically put on to manipulate everyone's mood so there are no outbursts until we reach his home.
I honestly have nothing to say to either of them as we enter the house, but it's clear they now want to have our sit down conversation. My mom and I enter the house and I turn on the lights and head to the kitchen for a glass of water. I hear a shriek from my mother in the living room and dash over. I let out a breath when I realize it is not burglars, but Alex, Eric and Ferran sitting in the living room.
"What are you guys doing here?" I ask them. They seem spooked too, all cuddled up under a blanket watching what looks like a scary movie.
"Feeling like I'm having a heart attack!" Alex says dramatically, clutching his heart as he tosses the blanket off of his torso as he's between the other two.
"We were not expecting you," agrees Eric, nodding excessively.
"I live here," I point out, flicking another light on. They all flinch and cover their eyes. It's not even late, it's about eight in the evening.
"Is one of you Isla's boyfriend?" my mother asks them, her hands on her hips. Her eyes scan over each of them individually as if to discover the convict.
They're all quick to protest.
"You don't even know what he looks like?" I ask my mom, a bit exasperated.
My mom faces me. "I've never met him and you've never sent me pictures." She doesn't add how I've never mentioned him before.
"We are literally the number one trending thing right now," I say pointedly. If she wanted to know what he looked like or anything about him it would be a few simple clicks away. "Plus if you watched the games--"
She waves me away. "Now how do we rid of these delinquents?" she asks. "We need to have a serious conversation."
"These delinquents are my friends," I tell her, putting myself between her and them. They've all proceeded to hide from her under the blanket. Fair, my mom can be scary. And judgy. When it comes to her, I fight fire with fire. I lift my chin. "And Xavi has always been clear all of his players are welcome in his home."
Xavi and my dad come inside. "What are you guys doing here?" my uncle asks the boys as they peak their heads out of the blanket to see the show.
I put my hands on my hips. "Having a heart attack apparently," I reply for them.
"We were having a scary movie night at Ferran's but then Sira kicked us out," Eric explains.
"Because we thought it was a good idea to add spoiled milk to her coffee," adds Alex.
"Not our finest moment," Ferran comments with a frown. If I were her I would've kicked them out too.
"Do you have somewhere else you can go?" Xavi asks them, discreetly gesturing to the disheveled state of my parents. They did recently get off a nine hour flight, but until now I did not notice the deep purple under each of their eyes and the unbrushed state of their hair.
The boys look at each other. "We could bother Pedri," Alex suggests.
"Good idea," Xavi says, opening the door for them.
"Him and Gavi are practicing their FIFA skills in his basement," I tell them as they ditch the blanket and make their way to the door in their Barca pajamas. I did not know those existed and now I want a pair. "Do me a favor and jump scare them and get it on video?"
"You got it." Alex gives me a thumbs up as they exist the house.
"What is the matter with you?" my mom asks as the door firmly shuts.
"Whatever are you talking about?" I ask sarcastically, sauntering over to the living room and bundling myself up in the blanket the boys were using as I plop down on the couch. I have become much used to my mothers scolding, and this past month has felt like a breath of fresh air without it.
The others follow me over to the living room and take seats as well.
"You were on such a good path," my mother starts, "and now you hang around boys all day and play a sport against sweaty old men."
"If it makes you feel better they're not all old," I say, knowing I'm getting on her nerves. I can't take this conversation seriously because all it is about to be is yelling at me. And I don't want to hear it.
My mother is not having my nonsense. "And you've lost all your manners."
"I'm not sure what you want from me!" I exclaim. It is too late at night after too long of a day to be having this conversation.
"Take your life seriously!"
"I am!"
"You are not. You are throwing it away on some boy and some career that'll last you three years. Your uncle told us you might stay."
I decide to ignore Xavi's betrayal for a moment. "You really think I'll last three years?" I ask, sarcastically again. The shelf life a professional soccer player is until they're about 35, depending how good they are. That is plenty of time for me if I get to keep doing what I love. However, for those who don't believe in me it's believed I won't last six months.
"Are you planning on being his wife after that?" my mother asks, her voice still raised. Both the men in the room are sitting quietly and massaging their temples.
"What is so bad about that? And no, actually if I fail then I'll go to law school, there's not ticking time bomb on that."
"Good to know you have a plan," she say sarcastically. I can tell she feels like my plan isn't a good one. This whole conversation would be a lot easier if I had actually decided I wanted to stay for sure; then I wouldn't need her. However, if I do decide to go back I will need to live with them during the summer months of the school years. At least for the first few.
"So tell me," I say, "what's yours? Are you going to catch a flight back out tomorrow morning or stay for your designated time and act pleasant? Do you want to meet Gavi or go the rest of your lives pretending he doesn't exist?"
"We want to meet him," my dad steps in. "When would be a good time?"
"I could call him over right now," I claim, a bit impulsively. Gavi had said if I needed him he was only a phone call away.
"You sure he's not too busy playing FIFA?" my mother taunts in her fake sweet Emily Gilmore voice.
I pull out my phone. "I guess we'll see if I'm more important than video games." I rush out of the room and call Gavi.
"Isla?" he says upon answering the phone. "Is everything going all right?"
"They want to meet you," I say nervously, glancing over my shoulder to make sure they're not eaves dropping. "Right now."
There's a pause on his end. "Alright, I'll be over in five. Also, did you have anything to do with Alex, Eric and Ferran scaring the shit out of Pedri and I."
"Maybe... See you soon, bye, love you." I hang up. I head back to the living room, prepared to bide my time before Gavi arrives.
It isn't long before the door bell rings.
"A gentleman," my mom comments sarcastically, "he didn't barge on in." I roll my eyes as I get up to answer the door. I had to get my charming personality from somewhere and clearly the sarcasm stems from my mother.
"Hey," I say with a small smile as I let him in.
"Hey," he says, giving me a kiss while we're both still blocked by the door.
"One last warning," I say as he comes all the way in, sliding off his shoes.
He chuckles softly. "I have to meet them sooner or later, might as well be right now."
We head towards the living room.
"Mom, dad," I say, "this is my boyfriend, Gavi."
"Where does that come from?" my mother asks, rather than greet him politely.
"Sorry?" Gavi asks, not sure what she's talking about. If I hadn't foreseen this part of the conversation than I'd be confused too.
"Your name," she clarifies as if she's talking to a child. Now I understand he can't tie his shoe laces yet, but he has scored in a World Cup.
"Oh, umm, my last name, Gavira, Gavi's short for it."
"Ahh, does everyone call you that?"
He shrugs. "Everyone I've met through futbol, expect Isla." He smiles over at me.
"And what does she call you?" my mom asks, probably expecting some cutesy nickname and wanting to embarrass us.
"Pablo," he replies, "my first name."
"May we call you that?" she asks, her feigning polite voice still holding strong.
"Go for it." Gavi and I head over to the couch where I was sitting earlier and sit down. I throw the blanket over both of us but don't snuggle up to him. He does catch my hand under the blanket and holds it, rubbing his thumb across my skin in a comforting manner.
My parents take turns asking him questions, mostly about his career and life plans. He appears to answer them all correctly, or at least how I would advise him to answer. Yet they still seem to hate him. It's as if he has already gotten me pregnant. They don't give him a break.
At the end of the night, when it's ten o'clock and Xavi declares we must get to bed because we have training bright and early in the morning, we say goodnight to my parents. Revealing our intertwined hands I lead him up the stairs.
Half of them conquered, my mother stops us. "Where are you two going?"
"To bed," I reply, not wanting to have this fight right now.
"He may sleep on the couch."
"He may sleep exactly where he sleeps every night, in my bed." I don't wait for a response, but continue to lead Gavi up to my room. He complies. He may be scared of my mom, but I'm pretty sure he's more scared of me.
"Your parents are..." he says as he closes my bedroom door and I release his hand from my grasp.
"Difficult?" I suggest. "Annoying? Excessive?"
"Exactly like you," he lands on.
I turn my back to him to grab some pajamas from my drawer. "I take offense to that."
He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my torso. "I don't mean it in a bad way, your mom is stubborn and strong willed, sarcastic and always attempting to make a point. Your dad is more reserved, I imagine until you get to know him, and smart, good a maneuvering situations."
I lean my head back against his chest. "When you put it like that." I pause. "If you don't want to stay--"
"Of course I want to stay." He spins me around so I'm facing him. "Wherever you are, I want to be there too."
I tap my index finger to his nose. "You're so adorable."
"I think your parents disagree, they see me as a monster," he jokes.
"You are their only daughter's first boyfriend."
"And last." He smirks. "I'm going to marry you someday, mark my words."
"Someday," I say, setting my hand behind his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.
A/N: Hey everyone!
This is my formal apology for taking so long on this chapter, I swear I've been trying to write it for a week. I've been pretty stressed recently and rather than being a stress decreaser, writing was a stress increaser. As I've mentioned before my soccer season has started up recently and right now playing and watching soccer have been the only undoubtedly good things in my life, so I find myself doing that more than anything else.
I have an AP English exam next week so the next chapter probably won't be for a bit; I promise it'll be a good one. That being said, I am determined to finish this book and am debating on whether or not to create a sequel. Please comment your opinion of both options as well as if there was a sequel, what time in there lives should it be about?
As always, thank you to everyone who votes and comments, I love seeing your thoughts on the story. See you guys in the next one! <3