It's A Game, But Who's Keeping Score?

Fernando stood in front of me, clad only in a small towel that hung limply around his waist. I couldn’t meet his glare, instead I stared at the Liverpool insignia woven into the carpet floor.

“I asked you a question,” Fernando growled, as he walked over to his stall; his gaze permanently fixed on me.

I couldn’t find my voice; it was trapped in my throat, the words on the tip of my tongue. Then, I felt someone’s arm slide across my waist, I looked up to see Pepe’s smiling down at me. He mouthed ‘you can do it.’ I shook my head, my gaze back on the carpet floor. Then, Steven coughed and nodded in my direction, then Fernando’s.

I looked up to him, buttoning up his shirt; I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, which set me off. I shrugged off Pepe’s arm and strutted towards Fernando, who appeared to had lost interest in me currently standing in his dressing room. I stood in front of Fernando, waiting for him to realize I was there.

“Excuse me,” I said harshly. “I don’t think I have to answer your question.”

Fernando smirked, “And why’s that?”

“Because I have as much right to be here as you.”

Fernando laughed obnoxiously, “You have as much right as a rabid fan girl.”

It was my turn to laugh and point to the stall that was a couple down from his. “Better get used to it, as I’m going to be here more often,” I said confidently, before turning around and walking back to the group. I exhaled loudly and smiled widely at Steven and Pepe. The group cheered as Fernando was showed up by a girl.

Pepe, Xabi and I crashed as soon as we got back to the house, which was a very nice looking house to be exact. We were all too lazy to make dinner, so we ordered in Chinese food. The cartons were discarded all over the tv room, as we aimlessly watched. Looking at the clock, I knew it was time for bed.

“Guys,” I moaned. “Can you show me where my room is?”

Pepe laughed and extended his hand, pulling me up he guided me to my room. It was gorgeous, pale green walls with beautiful wood furniture and a balcony that overlooked the big backyard. On the opposite wall, two doors led to my personal bathroom and walk-in closest. I was speechless to say the least.

“I take your silence as a good thing, you can unpack later,” Pepe said quietly, guiding me towards the bed. I nodded slightly, crawling into the bed, not bothering to get changed. I whispered a small goodnight and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The next two days pasted by quickly, I had never done so many interviews and photo shoots in my life. Today, the team was playing Everton; unfortunately I still wasn’t ready to play soccer. I was too scared to get back on the pitch and luckily, Rafa understood that.

The one thing I hated about soccer was sitting on the sidelines, especially when the game is deadlocked at nil nil. It was heart-wrenching to seethe my team struggling to get a goal. Then, Everton went and scored in the second extra half. Rafa looked discouraged, while the team was just silent.

Xabi and Pepe went straight to their rooms as soon as we got home, leaving me completely alone. I was bored of the tv after only a few minutes, so I pulled out my phone and dialed a familiar number.

“Hola?”

“Hey Rammy.”

“Rebecca! How’s Liverpool?!?” Sergio asked, enthusiastically.

“Uh, it’s fine. The boys are taking the lose badly.”

“That’s too bad, what was the score?”

“1 nil, after 2 extra halves.”

“Oh, that’s brutal. Look, I wish I could talk longer, but someone’s on my other line. Probably my coach telling me to go to sleep, got a match tomorrow.”

“Okay, I won’t keep you. Bye Rammy, love you.”

“Love you too, Bec.”

I snapped my phone shut, muttering to myself. I was determined to get back into shape to be able to play in the match in only a few days time. I quickly ran upstairs to see that both Pepe and Xabi were out cold, so I stole the keys and hopped in the car. Luckily, I remembered the way to Anfield and the security guards let me in with no hassle.

The atmosphere at Anfield was electrifying, even without the Kop being there. I was able to find a soccer ball that had found its way under the bleachers. After warming up quickly, I practiced taking penalty kicks, corner kicks and every other possible move. After an hour or two, the night was completely black and the air was frigid. For some reason, the dressing room was unlocked so I snuck in there. Lying down on the benches, I slowly fell asleep.

I woke up to someone nudging me persistently. “No, mom. Five more minutes,” I mumbled, attempting to swap the hand away.

“I thought you were living with Pepe and Xabi, or did they lock you out in frustration?” the voice asked, jokingly.

I looked up to see Steve looking down at me with a smile. Sitting up, I pulled Steve down beside me. Turning to face him, I asked, “Why does Liverpool want me? I’m not even that good at soccer. I could hardly practice last night for two hours.”

Steve laughed, wrapping an arm around me. “Liverpool wants you, because you’re you. You’re an amazing soccer player that propelled Spain into the Euro Finals.”

“I did none of that, it was all David Villa and…and-”

“Yes, you had a lot to do with it. And today you’re going to show Fernando just how amazing you are.”

I looked at Steve, my eyes filling with tears. I quickly wiped the tears away as Steve pulled me into a hug. He whispered, “Don’t do that, love. Now let’s get you suited up for practice today.” I nodded, pulling away from him and went to my stall.

I stood in awe at the Liverpool kit that was sitting in front of me; it felt like a dream that I was playing for my favourite team. The team started filing in, signaling I should get changed. I nervously looked across the room, wondering if I should get changed in front of the team. But everyone was minding their own business, so I took the opportunity to get changed.

Then, a voice came from the doorway.

“You have to be kidding me?!”