Can You Repeat That, You’re Name is Schneiger, Shwien—What?

*Ivonne POV: Before*

When I was younger my mother use to tell me that everything happened for a reason. There was a reason why my father died of cancer when I was thirteen and that we were so poor that my mom, little sister, and I were evicted from our home and had to live with my grandmother in the Munich suburbs. My mother reassured us it was temporary, things would turn around but if not it was because it was meant to be. She and my sister, Emmaline, are still living there today.

Growing up was tough especially when my only friend was my sister. Having no money made it hard to buy the latest gadgets and clothes so I stood out in my plain white t-shirt, torn jeans, and white tennis shoes. No cell phone, hundred dollar purse, make-up, or jewelry for me. The popular kids stuck their noses in the air whenever they walked by me. What alienated me even more from my classmates was my joy in learning; I was teased relentlessly but did my best not to listen to them. I finished my homework days in advance, asked questions to the teachers, always raised my hand, and even did extra reading on the subjects we were studying. I knew knowledge was the key to getting a good job and providing for my mom and sister. I was the first in my class and everyone made fun of me for it. It hurt deep down not to have what the other kids had especially a boyfriend. I wanted one badly but the time I found the courage to ask a guy to a dance he had laughed right in my face and left. I had come home crying and my mother had only repeated that stupid line that everything happened for a reason.

I think that was the day that I really broke away from my mother and sister’s way of looking at the world. While they believed in fate, destiny, true love and all that nonsense like there is no such thing as coincidence I believed in facts and logic. I loved my mother dearly but there was no way that I was going to follow in her deluded footsteps. All this dreaming crap was what had resulted in our poor status. I know it was snobbish to say so but it’s the real world, money matters.

When I finished my studies at twenty-one, I packed my bags and head straight for Munich. The small magazine company I interviewed with didn’t have a real position open for me but because of my grades and skill with words they hired me. Basically my job consists of three options: I would help out one of the journalist with gathering information and typing up a top news story, or I would write an article that someone couldn’t because they were on vacation or sick, or lastly, I would just write whatever I wanted and if it was good enough they would publish it. I mostly stuck to political and local news, trying to avoid at all costs the sport section since I new nothing about it. Working for Munich’s News was amazing but the pay was average. I rented a little apartment with one bedroom and cramped spacing in the cheapest part of town, saving most of the money I earned to send back to my family. I figured that all I really needed was a place to sleep since I was always outside. I did make the space as homely as possible but it was still small. I bought myself a used car—very used—to get around and new wardrobe knowing that I needed to look professional at work. It was not as expensive as my coworker Katrina Klein’s outfits but fit my tastes well.

Two years later I was still working at my job, living in my tiny apartment, and about to have all my beliefs tested…

*Bastian POV: Thursday July 16, 2009 at 6:06 P.M. in Front of a Red Light*

“This light is taking way too long!” grumbled Lukas from the seat next to me. We were on our way back to my house to hang out and had been stuck at the light in a deserted street on the outskirts of town for what felt like hours.

“Stop whining,” I said tightening my grip on the wheel. A Lamborghini Gallardo was not meant to be waiting still, it’s a crime.

“Do you think it’s broken?” I shrugged and leaned my arm against the open window. I was staring at the light above me willing it to turn green. It was ridiculous! Speaking of ridiculous.

“What are you doing?” I asked Lukas, who had practically his whole head in my glove compartment. I must have startled him because he banged his head on it.

“Damn it! You just don’t do that when someone has their head in a glove compartment!” Lukas rubbed his sore head as he straightened.

“Sorry no one told me that rule Lukas but who the hell besides you would have their head there?”

“I was bored and trying to entertain myself,” Lukas defended himself.

“By looking in a glove compartment?”

“Yes! You’ve never just looked in closets and cabinets when you’ve been bored?”

“Not really.”

“Well it’s perfectly norm—Bastain you idiot it was green!” yelled Lukas pointing. I looked over just in time to see it turn back to red.

“Shit.”

“Yeah shit, I know it’s hard to pay attention to anything with my sexy self in your car but I would like to get home before I grow a beard.”

“It’s my house not yours.”

“What’s mine is yours,” Lukas replied leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

“What are you doing now?” I asked, sometimes my best friend was just strange.

“Sleeping, this is going to take some time.” I shook my head and went back to praying the light would turn green soon. I am seriously going to have to write a letter of complaint about this, I thought. I looked over to my right when I heard rather than saw a car pull up beside mine on Lukas’s side. With creaks and groans coming from the old red car it wasn’t hard. Looking at the faded paint, hundreds of scratches, and indents it was some time before I looked at the driver.

I did a double take when I saw her profile. Long rich brown hair was tucked behind a shell shaped ear with a small stud earring and what I could make out of her lips they were pink and full. Her skin had a natural tan that glowed and the arms that held the steering wheel was defined by soft and subtle muscles. Her neck was long and graceful and she held herself with grace yet a strength that was mesmerizing. The woman must have realized that I had been watching her because she turned and met my eyes. Her gaze was haunting. Their green depths had many layers, some darker and lighter and then there was even a flicker of grey. Her eyes told the story of suffering, obstacles, and things I wouldn’t imagine but still relate to from my climb to a famous footballer. But behind all that there was a glimmer of hope still left burning but close to becoming extinguished.

I wanted to light that dormant passion and laughter in her eyes.

The woman blushed a becoming shade of red and broke eye contact, looking back at the light. Before I could carry out the crazy yet intense urge to roll down Lukas’s window and talk to her the light turned green and she pressed the gas.

“Lukas!” I hit him across the chest to wake him up as I pulled up behind the car with the woman in it.

“What, what, calm yourself.” Lukas waved my hand away. “What do you wa—.”

“Take the license plate number off the car in front of us.”

Lukas looked at the car, “Oh yeah, that car needs to be taken off the road for crimes against beauty.”

“Take the number!” I bellowed.

“Okay don’t get so excited and crash us.” Lukas found a pen but after searching to no avail for paper he had to write it on his arm. He had finished up the last number when someone cut me off. I honked on the horn but it was too late, I had lost the car. “Wow, that’s sad.” I pulled to the side of the road to try to find it from there but it had disappeared. “How did you lose a piece of junk like that, it screams ‘here I am!’”

“Did you get it?” I run a hand through my short hair thinking maybe I was losing it.

“Yup, what’s it for?” Lukas said curiously.

Knowing I couldn’t lie to my best friend I said, “The woman…”

“Say no more,” Lukas held his hands up. “But what are we doing with the license number?”

I thought over the question and I realized that it was useless; I couldn’t very well go to the police and ask them to look up the number because I was intrigued by the woman driving the car.

You’ll forget her in a few hours, I told myself pulling back out onto the road.

*Ivonne POV: Saturday July 18, 2009 at 2:23 P.M. Near Street Market*

“Don’t forget that you are coming here for an early birthday present next week. I’m coming to get you right after school,” I said into the cell phone. I had delayed buying something so expensive for a long time but knew I needed something to be able to communicate with my family and work. A cell phone was more practical than a home phone so I had gotten one about a year ago.

“I know!” Emmaline squealed from the other end. “I can’t wait to see Munich and get my present!”

I chucked at my sister, “Who said anything about a present?”

“No one, I just know you too well,” my eighteen year old sister replied.

“How’s mom doing?”

“Alright I guess, still working those two jobs and trying not to rely on your money. She doesn’t like when you send some.”

“You both need it,” I argued, dodging a couple holding hands and taking up half the sidewalk. I hated when they did that, it was crowded enough.

“How are things with Victor?” Emmaline brought up something I really didn’t want to think about.

“It’s officially over,” I sighed thinking of my ex-boyfriend and his cheating ways. Maybe I had been lucky in school to have the boy laugh in my face right at the start, with Victor it had been six months after. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this relationship thing.”

“You’ve only had two boyfriends.”

“And they both ended up being assholes,” I reminded her.

“You just stink at picking the right guy. When I come I’ll point you in the right direction.” I almost ran into a man in front of me when he suddenly stopped but I sidestepped and kept going.

“Thanks a bunch.” Saying our goodbyes we hung up. I was looking forward to seeing my little sister next week, life in Munich was pretty lonely. I think I would have had a harder time with it if I hadn’t befriend Hilda from work. She was a crazy activist that wrote about going green and saving our planet mother from disaster. Her mad ideas weren’t nearly as insane as her wardrobe. Vibrant, strange, colorful, and odd were all used to describe her. Being nothing alike but both new to a work environment had brought us close. She was my one and only friend here.

“Watch it,” snarled a goth girl when I accidentally bumped into her.

“Sorry.” I said it without any real meaning behind it, I saw girls like her everyday near my apartment and their scary factor had lessened considerable after two years. I had walked another block when I saw that my shoelaces were loose. Finding a corner to stop I bent and tied them. I was just looping the lace when I looked up suddenly for no reason and my eyes zeroed in on a six foot figure standing a few feet from me waiting for the signal to tell him he could cross the street.

There was no way that I could have forgotten that man. It had been only two days ago from the time we had shared a strange moment across our car windows. I had tried to stop thinking of him for the past couple days but he stayed in my mind and at odd moments I would think of the small smile he had given me or the way his eyes had darkened when locked with mine.

He was facing someone next to him so I could make out that he was wearing light jeans and a green shirt with some sort of design on it. At that moment he reached up and ran his finger through his light brown hair which flexed his arm muscles. I made a tiny noise and he looked over to my hunched position on the floor. His blue eyes widened and I panicked. Not caring about the untied shoe I stood quickly and slipped into the crowd. When I took a quick look back I saw the man searching the crowd one last fruitless time before being dragged by his friend across the street.

I finally made it to the market square but with labored breathing. I couldn’t help wondering how in the world he had heard me and known where to look to find me. But the most consistent thought in my head was that he had remembered me.

*Bastian POV: Sunday July 19, 2009 at 12:18 P.M. La Maison Restaurant*

“I’m telling you that we have to watch out for Barcelona they are kicking ass,” Lucio said, stuffing food in his mouth. The whole Bayern Munich team was eating lunch together before we had to go back to practice. Klinsmann was training us hard in preparation for the coming Champions League.

“Nah, it’s the Italian teams you have to watch out for,” I said. “They’ve had a lot of training and new style.”

“Hey! What about the French!?” cried Franck Ribery.

“The French are messed up,” Lukas replied which set Franck off into a tantrum with a lot of French swearwords in it. I took my glass of water and looked off into the distance. We were sitting outside, the weather was warm and thankfully most of the press wasn’t around and a lot of the people were leaving us alone. The restaurant was located in an immense square that had an equally huge fountain at its center. People were sitting on the side of it while the kids flicked water at each other. When the cup was inches form my lips I froze.

Sitting on the opposite end of the fountain was none other than the woman I had been seeing and thinking about for the last few days. She flipped her hair over one shoulder and leaned forward, trailing her fingertip on the water’s surface.

“Bastian, hello?” I blinked when Luca Toni’s hand passed in front of my eyes.

“You okay man,” asked Thomas Muller in concern when I turned back to look at them.

“Fine,” I responded a little dazedly looking back at the woman.

“What are you watching in such fascination?” asked Miroslav squinting in the direction I was looking at.

“It’s her,” I simply said.

“It’s her?” repeated Lukas and then his face brightened as he understood. “It’s her!”

“Who’s her?” asked Thomas

“Her! Her! Her!” Lukas chanted pointing in the distance. “Damn Bastian, how did you see her from here? I can’t tell her apart from any other.”

“Go talk to her,” said Willy Sagnol, he wasn’t sure what was going on but was going with the flow.

“Did you realize that you said ‘her’ about ten times in the last minute?” Franck said smartly. I wasn’t listening as I swiftly got to my feet. Unfortunately, it was the exact moment that a bunch of fangirls approached our table. Giggling, blushing, and fawning over each other they crowded around me. Defeated, I plastered my winning smile on and turned to the girls. There was no way to escape things like this; it was part of being a footballer. I glanced once to look over at the woman by the fountain and meet her emerald eyes before being jolted back to reality when one of the girls fell against me. She stuttered a sorry and I finished signing the autographs, glad when they turned their sights on the other guys. When I looked for my mystery woman she was gone just like the time I had seen her on the street.

I frowned as I sat back down, I really should have expect that she would run because she had done it before but it left me with an itch I couldn’t get rid of. It was as if I was meant to meet her but something kept preventing it.

“She disappeared again,” Lukas said knowingly.

“Why do you think she always does that?”

“One look at you who wouldn’t?” Luca teased.

“Well I hope you catch her,” Lukas said. “Because that number I wrote on my arm is still there and I want my suffering to be worth something.”

“Why don’t you wash it off?” I said logically.

“Because I wrote it in a sharpy.” I laughed at my friend as the subject of the woman was soon replaced by more football talk.

I half listened, pissed that I was so obsessed over this green-eyed woman and mad because I couldn’t seem to talk to her to find out why.

*Ivonne POV: Wednesday July 22, 2009 at 4:01 P.M. Munich Grand Shopping Mall*

“So you’re telling me that you’ve been stalking a guy for the last week?” Hilda’s eyebrows rose over the rim of her red, diamond studded glasses in amazement. She didn’t even need glasses but thought they looked alluring on her. “God, I am starting to rub off on you.”

“I haven’t been stalking him—.”

“So he’s stalking you?”

“There is no stalking going around Hilda! No one but you does that.” Hilda shrugged her shoulders like following someone was something everyone should do. “What I’m talking about is that I keep seeing him places.”

“It’s fate.”

“No way,” I denied looking over at the rack of clothes in front of me. There was no way that I could afford any of the items there but I was there to help Hilda find a dress for her date. Besides, a girl could dream.

“It is! You see this guy what? Two, no, three times and you’re telling me it’s not more than coincidence?”

“It’s just coincidence,” I replied into her skeptical face.

“Than why are we talking about this?”

“Because it’s strange,” I said lamely.

Hilda clapped her hands in glee and jumped up and down causing her bangles to clink at the movement, “It it’s because it’s your destiny!”

“You’re starting to sound like my mother and sister,” I grumbled handing Hilda a dress and moving to another section.

“You are so boring with all your kill joy attitude sometimes,” Hilda said. “You have to be more open and happy! There are things that defy numbers and statistics.”

“Just go try on the dresses,” I responded pushing her towards the dressing rooms. I don’t know what had caused me to mention the blue-eyed man but he was all I could think of. He haunted my dreams and I didn’t even now his name! You aren’t acting rationally, I chided myself for the millionth time. If there was something I prided myself on it was that…which lift me the moment I rounded a corner carrying another dress for Hilda to spot the man once again.

How many times will this happen?! I thought quickly to myself as I practical lunged behind a table laid out with shirts. I was definitely not in my right mind at the moment, clutching a dress to my chest as I squatted behind a table like a criminal. I lifted my head to look where he was but swiftly lowered it back when he approached my hiding spot with the same friend I always saw him with.

“We’re not looking for t-shirts Lukas,” came a deep voice and thanks to my very good peeking skills I was able to see that it was my stranger that had spoken. “We’re here for suits.”

The man had such a seductive voice, it made me want to melt in a puddle right where I crouched and leave me for the cleaning crew to pick up. Get a hold of yourself, I yelled inwardly and pinched myself just for good measure.

“Yes, mother,” answered, who I assumed, was Lukas. Lukas looked my way once but I ducked my head. When I heard their footsteps move a little farther I breathed easier.

“Did you lose something dear?” asked a concerned voice from beside me. I slowly looked up to find a kind old lady looking at me and realized the position I was in.

“Oh, no—I mean yes!” I scrambled to my feet quickly and didn’t glance in the direction the blue-eyed man had taken. “My dress!” I said lamely holding it up. “But I have it now thank you.”

I hurried as fast as I could to Hilda’s dressing room, feeling eyes on the back on my neck and knowing he had seen me.

“What do you think—wow, what’s the hurry?” Hilda had just stepped out of the room to be pushed back into it by a panicking me.

I firmly closed the door before freaking out, “He’s here!”

“Who?”

“Him!”

“I don’t follow.”

“I guy I keep seeing, he’s here!” I explained leaning against the door as if to keep him out.

“Really?” Hilda asked brightly. “Right now? In this store?”

“Yes,” I said slowly so she could understand my words.

“What are the odds?” The look in her brown eyes said it all.

“Oh no, don’t start that again.”

“I’ll let it rest for now. Move over so I can see this stalking man!” There was no use reminding her to the fact that there was no stalking going around as I was firmly shoved to the side—she was small but really strong!—and the door cracked open. Losing the battle to stay in my corner I leaned over, being taller than the average woman had its advantage, and peered into the store.

“Who’s your hunk of love?”

“He is not my hunk of love! The stranger is right by the black suits.” I directed her.

“He is fine! Why are you always running away from him?” she whispered.

“I do not run away from him!” Hilda snorted. “I admit I might try to leave when he’s around but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“I think you’re scared because you know that you could actually love this guy,” Hilda said wisely.

This time I snorted as a watched the handsome man stroll across the room, “Please, that is the farthest thing from the truth.”

“So why to you ‘leave’ when faced by him?” I couldn’t come up with a reason; I had no idea why I did it. I was saved from having to reply when he turned to fix his blue eyes straight at me. I couldn’t help gasping and then shrieking with Hilda to get the door closed. I locked the door to be on the safe side and parked my body in front of it. “How long do you count on staying in here?” Hilda asked when she saw my preparations.

“Until he’s gone.”

Hilda sat on the floor, “This might take a while.”

*Bastian POV: Saturday July 25, 2009 at 9:12 A.M. Allianz Arena*

“So this chick hid from you?” asked Toni in total disbelief as he passed me the ball. It was a warm morning for practice but good for the fans. Every month we would have a special training were the fans could come watch us and then we would go mingle around with them signing autographs and taking pictures with them. It was a lot of fun and it let the people know that we appreciated their support.

At the moment the security people were starting to let the people in, it was a first come first served sort of deal until it was closed after about fifty people were in, they didn’t want it to get crazy. Today it was going to be even less because the section of stands cut off for the purpose for this morning had a bad railing that they didn’t want anyone to fall over.

“She is not a chick,” I protest, angrily hitting the ball wide and making him chase after it.

“Well you don’t know her name so chick is as good as any,” Philipp Lahm replied dribbling the ball past me and scoring. I rolled my eyes thinking that everyone knew my business.

“Bastain! What are you doing? He just scored because of you,” the coach yelled bringing me back to reality.

“Sorry coach.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it in a game! Reset everything and don’t let him get past you,” Klinsmann said.

The next time Philipp came by me I neatly tackled him and won the ball.

*Ivonne POV: Saturday July 25, 2009 at 9:19 A.M. Allianz Arena*

I had been up since three in the morning standing in line for the chance to get into this stupid stadium to watch people jog around and kick a ball—I hated sports! I was tired, hungry, and cranky but as soon as we walked inside and I saw my little sister’s face light up in joy I knew that it had been worth it.

“I can’t believe I’ll here!” Emmaline did a little dance before we took our seats close to a sign that said ‘Careful Railing Loose’. I had picked her up the night before at my grandma’s and talked for a while with my family before bringing my sister back to my tiny apartment. She hadn’t minded the lack of space only when I had woken her up at an ungodly hour. The location of where we were headed had made her wake up and quickly get ready. Clad in a tattered Bayern Munich shirt with a really long name on that back that I could not pronounce, she was clutching a notebook stuffed with pictures of her favorite players.

“We’re actually breathing the same air as Bastian Schweinsteiger!” she closed her eyes enjoying the fantasy.

“I just hope this Schwetiger—.”

“Schweinsteiger.”

“—whatever his name is will be worth the wait,” I covered my mouth over a yawn.

“He is. You should see him, perfect face, perfect eyes, perfect nose, perfect skills, and perfect thighs!”

“Perfect thighs?” I asked. That wasn’t usually what drove teenage girls crazy with want at least it hadn’t when I was in school. Were things so different already?

“Trust me, it’s his best feature.” Emmaline looked over at the players that were all jogging around the pitch totally engrossed. I, on the other hand, was trying not to fall asleep for my sister’s sake. I couldn’t help closing my eyes for a little bit though.

“Ivonne! Wake up.” Emmaline dug her elbow into my side

“I am awake…” My eyes snapped open and immediately landed on a sight I should have been use to seeing by now. “It can’t be,” I whispered to myself squinting my eyes at one of the players that were coming closer.

“What did you say?” I didn’t pay any attention to my sister, robotically getting out of my sit for a closer look. Too bad that I placed my hands where they shouldn’t have gone.

“Ivonne watch out! The railing is fragile!” My sister’s warning came too late, the railing beneath my hands gave away.

With an embarrassingly girly scream I fell forward.

*Bastian POV: Saturday July 25, 2009 at 9:31 A.M. Allianz Arena*

A scream pierced through the laughter of our discussion. I turned my head to spot a streak of brown land with a thump a few feet below the stands onto the field.

“Damn! Did someone just fall?” Lukas mouth dropped.

“No shit Lukas.” I ran faster than the other guys to the figure lying on their back. It was a woman and her brown hair was all over her face from the fall.

“Ivonne!” came a cry from a teen looking down the stands in fear.

“I’m good,” came the musical reply from the woman on the ground. At least she was talking which was a good sign but she hadn’t moved.

Kneeling beside the fallen woman I asked, “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No, I just had the wind knocked out of me…” She trailed off when she push her hair out of her face and meet my eyes. I almost found myself knocked off my feet and lying there with her when I saw that it was my mystery woman. What luck—not the falling of the ledge part—to find her here!

“It’s you!” I cried in joy as I helped her sit up.

“It’s you,” she repeated back to me swaying a little. I made her lean her back against my chest and one of my legs was tugged under me but my other I stretched out in front of me to brace us. She was so warm and soft against me that I couldn’t help but hoping I could hold her like this forever.

“It’s Bastian Schweinsteiger!” came a voice from above us. The woman looked up at the girl with brown hair like hers and than back at me.

“So you’re this Steiger,” she mused aloud.

“Schweinsteiger but close enough,” I chuckled as my teammates gathered around but not too close to give us privacy. “Are you finally going to give me your name or disappear before?” She didn’t seem to be hearing me and was concentrating on something on my leg.

“My sister’s right, you do have the perfect thighs,” she surprised me by saying but that wasn’t what had me almost groaning out loud. She actually placed her hand on my upper leg and ran her hand along the muscles there. “So strong and soft.”

“Okay that’s enough touching the famous football player for today,” the girl that was her sister jumped down onto the field and tried to get her sister to stand. “I’m so sorry about this,” she looked sheepishly at me as her unsteady sister stood and leaned against her.

“It’s no problem. I think she’s only a little winded but you should take her to the hospital incase,” I told the younger girl as her sister kept studying me with her green eyes.

“Thanks, will do.” She turned and half dragged her sister but I thought I heard her mumbling something about costing her an autograph. When I was going to turn back to practice the woman looked back.

“Ivonne Neumann,” she yelled. “That’s my name.”

I smiled as she left and walked back onto the field ignoring all the suspicious glance my friends threw at me.

Ivonne.

I wasn’t disappointed this time when she was gone because I knew that I would she her again.

Ivonne and I were destined to be together.