Keep Cool, Stay Tough

After Cristiano scored his first free kick of the season, James and Jesé scored very respectable goals to once again hand Real Madrid three crucial points. The season was winding down and Real Madrid was still neck in neck with Barcelona. The race to number one became even tighter after Barcelona’s game with Sevilla wrapped later that same night.

“Why are you in such a horrible mood, Senna?” Sergio asked in mock concern with his wide, toothy smile and bright eyes as he sat across from Mina and me.

“You know exactly why I’m in a bad mood, Sergio, don’t make me pelt you with peanuts,” I threatened keeping my tone flat.

Mina threw her arm across my shoulders, as she leaned over to kiss my cheek, “Cheer up, darling, the football gods are smiling down on los blancos.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m surrounded,” I muttered, pressing my forehead against the cool marble tabletop wondering if I could feign a stomachache and skip out of the party already.

“There’s still two points left,” I heard Cristiano say as he approached our table, and I couldn’t tell if he was being encouraging to himself or to me. He had a flair for constantly finding the loophole that no one else could possibly find to make sure he was consoled as well as the person he was attempting to console. It really was quite a talent to have.

I lifted my head, just high enough to make eye contact with Cristiano as I matched his tone to remind him, “You guys still have to pay a visit to Sevilla too, and they have yet to lose on home turf this season.”

“We’re going to take three points out of that match too,” Sergio interrupted with a boisterous laugh as he reached his hand out to high-five Cristiano who readily accepted the gesture making me roll my eyes practically out of their sockets.

“We shall see,” I sung the words and hopped off my chair to stretch my legs. From the moment I had arrived to the lounge I hadn’t budged from my spot by the bar, and I was a little worried that my leg may have fallen asleep since I had been sitting with one crossed over the other.

Cristiano and I broke the norm of having dinner together after home matches to join the rest of the squad at a new lounge that one of Sergio’s friends had recently opened instead. The entire team had promised to show up, and Sergio had personally invited Mina and me which made it impossible for either of us to say no. After all, even before Cris, Sergio is the one that really helped me integrate with the rest of the team.

“Where are you going?” Sergio called.

“My friends are here, I want to meet them in the front,” I called and continued on my way vaguely wondering if Cristiano was watching me. I didn’t even get to properly congratulate him on his freekick.

“They better be hot!” Sergio shouted back.

I ran the last few steps to open the door for Chloe, but of course she beat me to it, and I stood in the middle of the lounge’s dimly lit entry way, amazed at how happy I was to have a night out with the girls ahead of me.

“Where the fuck have you been, Senna?” Chloe demanded as soon as she flung open the door and saw me waiting for her.

“I know, I know!” I hung my head in shame, my arms up in defeat “I’ve been a terrible flake, but you guys are properly back in town and we have a lot of catching up to do, so there’s no time to waste on chastising me.”

“Oh yes there is,” Chloe insisted as I hugged them both.

I pointed towards the second set of double doors as enticingly as I could, “There is an entire football squad, some say the best-looking football squad, waiting, semi-intoxicated behind those doors.”

“Why do you look so happy?” Chloe demanded abruptly.

“What? Because I saw you too, obviously,” I answered immediately.

Zoe laughed and began inching her way towards the door as eager as I was to start the night, but Chloe remained still and suspicious as she continued to look me up and down.

“You’ve been getting some, haven’t you?” She had a finger in my face and a smile on her full, red lips as her hazel eyes narrowed.

I laughed, an easy lie bubbling up to my lips, “I’ve been spending time with Mina, who is actually here tonight, and if we can get inside, I would love to introduce you guys finally.”

“OH,” They were both hurt by the boringness of my response.

Chloe looked me over, somehow even more appraisingly this time, her head went to a tilt, her eyebrows pulled together, “Are you sure you haven’t been getting any? You’re practically glowing, and it’s really dim lighting in here/”

I burst out laughing, feeling flustered by the sensation of warmth creeping up my neck, “Oh, wow, no, definitely not. I definitely have not been getting any, I promise.”

Chloe’s skepticism was apparently infectious because Zoe was starting to look at me the same way.

“She does look calmer, happier, doesn’t she?” Zoe asked.

“Happier,” Chloe specified.

I shook my head, “You two are paranoid and ridiculous. If anything, I’m just really happy to be seeing you guys again. I feel it’s been too long since we’ve seen each other properly and of course there’s the next big game coming up too.”

Why did I sound so defensive? I was starting to sound suspicious to my own ears now. I needed to get these two tipsy and out of my hair as quickly as possible.

Just as I had finally had them convinced to get inside the actual lounge area, the double doors opened, and out came Iker and Cristiano.

“You guys are leaving?” I asked.

Iker gave an apologetic smile as he came to a stop in front of me. Cristiano continued walking down the entryway, stopping by the front door as he glanced down at his phone seemingly tuning us out as he waited for Iker to catch up.

“We have an early morning press conference assigned to us for the game against Athletico on Tuesday,” Iker explained, “We’ll never hear the end of it if we show up with hangovers.”

I pouted, and reached out to give him a hug, “That’s awful, but before you go, let me introduce you to Zoe and Chloe, they’re my friends from school.”

Iker smiled, and shook hands with both of them, “Have a great night on my behalf, you guys. It’s looks like it’s going to be a good one.”

Cristiano didn’t glance up from his stupid phone even once, not even to at least wave goodbye. The moment he heard Iker’s footsteps he opened the front door and disappeared outside. The girls took no notice of Cristiano, or my irritated expression. We finally went inside where the party was officially underway, the lights had gone down and the music had gone way up. We hit the bar; found Mina, made rushed introductions, and knocked back a few shots of vodka before finally shimmying onto the dance floor with a dubstep remix of sweet nothing bouncing out of the speakers.

The songs continued to change, the dancing went on, and the sweat on my forehead grew more pronounced. When I finally felt the need to rehydrate, I grabbed a bottle of water from behind the bar and chugged.

I felt someone tap me on the shoulder, and a voice in my ear say, “Hey stranger.”

I whipped around, ashamed to even admit I had hoped Cristiano had come back, but instead I found Fernando Torres smiling at me.

“Hey back, how have you been?” I shouted.

He shrugged, mouthing that the he couldn’t hear me, and pointed towards the entryway where the music wouldn’t drown out our conversation.

“Not to be rude, but what are you doing here?” I asked as soon as I shut the door to muffle the noise.

He pointed up, “The owner, Lucas, is a friend, and he asked me to bring some friends tonight.”

I nodded, “Right, but you do know the majority of the Real Madrid team is in there, right?”

“Ok, I don’t know what your understanding of football is, but we’re not gangs, Senna, we’re not going to get into a row because one guy looked at the wrong guy in a funny way. Some of us are even teammates on the international level,” He explained between his breathy laughter.

“Listen, I’ve been drinking, bare with me,” I defended with a sloppy smile.

“Let’s have dinner, and catch up when you’re sober then,” He offered, “Let’s say Tuesday after the game. Would that work for you?”

For whatever reason, Cesc immediately popped into my head. Otherwise this seemed far too out of the blue for Fernando. In any case, I wanted a proper excuse to play keep away from Cristiano after the game and sort out my thoughts on that situation, and honestly, this invitation probably could not have come at a better time.

“Did Cesc put you up to this?” I couldn’t stop the question from coming out.

Fernando gave me a strange look before shaking his head, “No.”

Our conversation got interrupted when the lounge doors opened and out popped Mario Mandzuic with poor little Luka Modric in a headlock.

“What are you doing out here?” Mario shouted, “We’ve been looking for you everywhere! Get back inside!”

I looked at Luka, waving my hand in the air as if asking what was going on.

“He misses me,” He explained, making me giggle.

Fernando smiled, “One minute, I’ll be back inside.”

“I’m counting!” Mario yelled and allowed the door to close after him and Luka.

“You know I don’t believe you,” I insisted as we walked towards the lounge.

“I didn’t think you would, but you want to?”

“Yeah, of course, you’re not bad company,” I complimented.

“Surprisingly, neither are you,” He returned.

I hit his arm and stood in front of him, blocking his return to the lounge, “Why surprisingly?”

“You are Cesc’s ex-girlfriend and I tend not to like the girls he’s dated,” Fernando answered his tone blunt.

That little compliment did more than enough to perk up my mood for the rest of the night as I went back inside and found Sergio and Karim surrounded by Mina, Chloe, and Zoe on the dance floor looking as blissful as when I’d left.

With the next morning’s arrival came the inevitable dry heaving, blinding headaches, and cravings of silence. I stayed in bed and pestered Mina via text to bring me aspirin which she managed to ignore. I planned on going to her room to give her a piece of my mind for ignoring me once the walls stopped spinning.

I know I should have told Cristiano not to wait up for me on Tuesday, but that would imply that I already thought we had plans, even though we’ve never really said we were going to have dinner together, it just sort kept working out that way. No, I decided firmly, he was busy and preoccupied with the game anyway, and this was going to be a completely unnecessary text message. He had much more important stuff to focus on. I would just leave it until after the game, just send something short and sweet, and that would be the end of it. And yeah, I was a little mad about the cold shoulder from Saturday night too, and that may have possibly played into my decision.

I didn’t see any of the players during the build up to the game. Martha was drowning in paperwork and Mina and I preoccupied ourselves with staying on top of all the call backs, checkups, and cross referencing that was required to avoid falling into complete chaos. We came in earlier than everyone, including Martha, and were the last to leave, except for one person.

“Can you believe Cris is still out there?” Mina asked.

I shrugged, refusing to pick my eyes off the floor as we finally locked up the office to go home, “He’s a perfectionist, you know that.”

All of Madrid was divided between los blancos and los rojiblancos. Even at school people were holding conversations that all seemed to wind down to an argument over who should win and who could win between the two rivals. I was excited without the anxiety. Whenever Barcelona had a big game coming up (read el clascio) I was nothing more than a bundle of nerves and caffeine. But now it’s like I was walking around all the anxiety-ridden fans and all I took away from the upcoming event was a sense of thrill.

What I didn’t account for were the high emotions that came with having a crap ref and a match that ended in a stalemate. The game had been a mess from the first minute, neither team was all that coordinated, but of course Real Madrid was the side with the most chances blown. I wasn’t sure if that was something to see in a positive light.

Cristiano didn’t respond to the text I sent him when the match had just started, even though I was positive he had seen it by now. I didn’t want to leave the stadium before at least checking on him to see how he was holding up. I tried calling, and of course he didn’t answer. Still torn between staying or leaving to look for Fernando, he sent a cryptic text telling me to wait by the field. The match had ended an hour earlier so the bulk of people were in the parking lots searching for their rides.
He was visibly annoyed even from the distance as he stomped towards me with shoulders hunched and eyebrows furrowed. He looked as if he had already showered and changed. I tilted my head, wondering if there was something wrong beyond the fact that he just walked off the pitch without an away goal to add to Real Madrid’s tally.

“Are you seriously going out to dinner with Torres tonight?”

He practically spat out his name.

I locked my jaw shut, breathed, already aware of the fact that he had this built up in his head as a huge insult to him. I probably should have anticipated this.

“We didn’t really have concrete plans,” I started to explain.

That had been my reason on Saturday, and I wondered if it would hold up now with Cristiano glaring down at me, although given his visibly frustrated expression I already knew it wouldn’t.

“Why? Why is it necessary for you to have dinner with him tonight?” He asked.

It felt strange to see him lose his cool. He had a point. I knew this. That’s why I was one small step away from panicking. We were in a relationship, in a strange, messy relationship that meant we had developed obligations to each other, and as much as I tried to downplay it, that’s exactly what it was; otherwise why I had felt so insulted when he had blown me off in front of my friends. And, to me, that was worth panicking over.

“That’s mostly why I didn’t think it would be such a big deal if we were to, you know, not, this one time,” It was so obvious that I was grasping at straws, and that seemed to annoy Cristiano even more.

I was trying to keep calm and not say anymore than I needed to. Was this what it felt to try to break up with someone? I shuddered. Cristiano is not my boyfriend and we are not breaking up.
Oh my god. We’re taking a break.

He frowned more; I didn’t realize that was possible.

“Are you into him?”

Now it was my turn to get mad.

“Are you serious right now? Are you really asking me if I’m into a married man?”

This was really getting way out of hand. I needed to be out and away from him, from here like five minutes ago.

He shrugged, his frown briefly converting to a scowl, “It’s a legitimate question. Maybe you need a consolation prize after losing out with the first Spaniard.”

Spaniard? Who did he think my ex was?

“How?”

Now it was my turn to get riled up. I couldn’t leave without putting him in his place.

“How is it a legitimate question? Just because he’s asking me to dinner to play catch up, and I dropped our vague dinner plans for his concrete ones? Because he’s a friend that I haven’t see in weeks and so I decided to drop you for him? Or is it just because you don’t have any plans of your own?”

Okay, even to my own ears, the last comment was hitting below the belt, and completely unnecessary, but it was out of my mouth before I even knew what I was saying.

“Whatever, I’m finished with this conversation, do whatever you want,” He snapped.

I grabbed his arm and pulled him back, he was caught off guard by my sudden gesture so he stumbled, it didn’t even occur to me at that moment that people might be watching this bizarre conversation unravel. I didn’t care, I was only seeing red.

“You do not insult me and get to walk away; you listen to me because I am NOT in the habit of repeating myself, Cris. Fernando is my friend, and you implying anything else, is disgustingly insulting to me right now,” I dropped my hand down to my side, breathing heavily.

“It was a question, calm down, Senna,” He hissed, leaning towards me, knocking me sideways with the rush of his cologne to my senses. A brief flicker of doubt passed through me. I didn’t know if I wanted to kiss him or kill him.

“No it’s not, because from the first night I met you I have made it pretty obvious what my stand is. It has been years, and I’m still emotionally fucked by my ex- “ I stopped myself, shook my head, getting rid of all the infuriating thoughts begging and prompting to be hissed out, and sighed.

“Look, I understand you’re frustrated, but you need to step out of this bubble of ours just like I need to, we’ve been spending a lot of time together, maybe even too much time together, we should take a step back.”

He huffed, “That’s fine by me.”

“Fine.”

“I have plans too.”

“That’s good.”

“Don’t be patronizing,” He practically growled.

He was still glaring, but his breathing was returning to normal. He knew I knew he didn’t have plans tonight. I almost laughed. But I kept my brows furrowed and jaw set, mimicking his stance, taking deep breaths, trying to press his cologne to memory.

“Bye, Cris.”

He didn’t even bother with a goodbye. He turned and stormed off. I glared after him for a moment, almost tempted to stick my tongue out after him regardless of how much of a child that made me seem like. Maybe a minute had passed; maybe five had gone by, when I bothered to go off on a search for Fernando.

My search was very brief.

“Is that….” He pointed at the corridor where Cristiano disappeared from and then at me in rapid succession, “Are you two a thing now?”