Keep Cool, Stay Tough

I arrived in Madrid the day Real Madrid lost the first leg away at the Vicente Calderon for the first leg of the copa del rey. This was the third straight loss the team had suffered. The first being a friendly against AC Milan, the next being yet another away game this time against Valencia, and this most recent loss had thrown Mina and Martha into a tailspin.

My dad had warned me they were fanatics, and they would made me feel like a complete newbie as far as football support was concerned, but what nobody had bothered to tell me left me in a bit of tailspin of my own.

“You’re Real Madrid's physician?” I demanded.

“Yes, what’s with the skepticism?” Martha didn’t even glance up from the papers she was rustling through.

“I didn’t know, how did I not know? Does my dad know?” I pressed, incredulous and stunned in the same second. My mind was jumping forward a mile a minute piecing together what this revelation potentially meant for me and the next few months in Madrid.

Martha laughed as she plucked out the particular paper she had been searching for, “I don’t know, but I wasn’t keeping it a secret if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”

I shook my head, “Oh, no, no I didn’t mean anything like that, no, of course not. I just don’t remember this and I feel like I should. How long have you been working here?”

“I’m in the second year of my contract, so it’s pretty recent,” She commented coolly.

“Where were you before?”

“A clinic just outside of Madrid on the way to Toledo,” She explained.

I was willing to bet all the money I had that my father was under the impression that I would be working at that particular clinic and not at this futuristic mini-hospital that’s tailored completely to footballers.

She adopted a serious expression and pressed on, “You’re going to make yourself useful to me the entire time you are in Madrid. You are here to help me, and you are here to continue on with your education away from whatever distractions you had in Barcelona.”

“My father is a sadist,” I muttered, “Are you sure I can’t get a job at the school library or something? I really would rather not work for Real Madrid.”

“Away from my eye, I don’t think so, Senna. And your father mentioned that you didn’t want to come to Madrid at all, but you’re here, and while you’re here you’ll do as I ask.”

I waited for an ‘or else’ to tumble along, but she didn’t utter those words, and for that I was a tiny bit grateful. Although the concept of me working inside Real Madrid disturbed me, I realized that I was going to get on with my aunt just fine.

“You’re going to be the bridge between the press room and the doctor’s office – my office – for most of your time working here. You will keep updated notes regarding each player’s health, and you will periodically email these notes to the press room and keep two sets of copies one scanned in the computer and the other you will print and file away. This will be the most important task that you must keep up with under any and all circumstances. Anything else you are assigned is secondary. Is that understood?”

I nodded.

“Right, well Mina’s going to the school library to buy whatever books she needs, and you will join her and get your books and any other supplies you need. You’ll start coming into work with me the days you don’t have class.”

I nodded again for lack of options.

The office phone rang. It was Mina announcing her arrival at the gates. Martha signaled for me to leave, I gave an awkward wave, grabbed my bag, and headed towards the open door. I heard the phone hit the receiver behind me.

“Oh and Senna?” Martha called.

I turned, unsure what to expect.

“Please don’t fuck up on my watch.”

I nodded one last time.

Martha was always an enigma me to me, she was at this level of cool that I always wanted to emulate, but somehow always failed miserably. Ever since I was little, I always saw her as some amazing goddess of fashion and medicine.

Mina, her daughter, my first cousin, hadn’t really followed after her mother’s footsteps.

I groaned when I saw Mina sitting behind the wheel of a lime green, stupid looking Fiat – of all the hideous cars in the entire world, a Fiat? She waved me over, and I picked up my pace, dreading the moment I would be sitting beside her in a fiat.

“You drive a Fiat? Why?” I winced as I slid into the passenger seat. Mina gave a snort without even glancing towards me.

I thought I would be able to hold it in and not whine about the car, but I couldn’t help myself. I needed answers. I needed an explanation.

“I have other things to concern myself beyond the car that I drive.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to have a decent car.”

“This is a decent car.”

“It gets you from point A to point B, but I wouldn’t call this a decent car.”

“Yeah well, you know what they say: beggars can’t be choosers.”

“No, they really cannot apparently.”

As much as I had wanted to argue and be ungrateful, going to back to school had been a little pesky fly buzzing around me demanding to be acknowledged. Mina had actually done well with my classes, and I still wasn’t quite sure how she had gotten me registered without me being present during a counseling session, but then again Martha’s connections seemed to go on for miles. School was going to begin next week, and I was more than a little surprised to find the majority of my needed books still in stock.

“Most people buy or rent online,” Mina explained when I told her as much.

This was when I met Zoe and Chloe for the first time. There was only one sociology 102 book in stock and Zoe and I both had asked the worker for it. After a few minutes of you should take it, no you should, we decided to sit together during class and share until more were made available. It didn’t take us very long to realize there was room for a friendship to blossom between the three of us. I shamelessly ditched Mina to have dinner with my two brand new, shiny friends. In my defense I did ask if she would like to join us. She’s the one that declined.

We were going to have dinner at some Italian place that was always booked months in advance, but Zoe got a table with a single phone call because she knew a guy.

I sort of froze there for a moment when I saw the Audi’s light flash as it was unlocked. I heard Zoe shout something about throwing the book bags in the boot. Vague flashes of memory blew through my mind as the make and model registered to me.

“Something happen?” Chloe asked as she walked towards me to open the boot and throw her purchased books inside.

“Great car,” I managed to muster.

“It’s what all the footballers drive,” Chloe proudly announced.

A humorless laugh floundered at the back of my throat as I slid into the cool leather back seat, but no noise came out beyond, “No kidding.”

Five minutes into our drive and Zoe turned the music down with a gasp as if she had remembered the most urgent bit of news.

“I knew I was forgetting to mention something!”

“Must be something pivotal if Rihanna’s getting silenced,” Chloe returned a smirk ringing in her tone.

“Irina mentioned this place is Cristiano’s favorite place to have dinner after practice,” Zoe began, but you could just tell there was something bigger to be said. She was building up to something.

“Really?” A flash of excitement resounded in Chloe’s tone; though apparently that bit of gossip was enough for Chloe. It was like telling a child Father Christmas was coming a day early, I imagined.

“How is dear Irina anyway? I didn’t get to talk to her much in Paris.” Chloe asked while Zoe got distracted with her phone.

“Not that great apparently,” Zoe replied, “I got to talk to her plenty, believe me, and she had nothing nice to say about her current situation.”

“Is it Cristiano or just in general?”

“Cristiano.”

“It has to be his mom,” Chloe speculated.

“Irina could never seem to get that woman’s approval,” Zoe tsked.

“She’s just naïve if she really thinks he was going to drop his mom for her.”

Zoe nodded in ascent.

“Do you like footballers, Sen?” Chloe glanced at me through the rearview mirror.

“I like football. I love Barca.”

“Your dad works with the club, right?”

“Yeah, it was just a really happy coincidence that he wound up there. Of course I took full advantage of getting great seats at all the home games and occasional away games, but it’s always going to be FC Barca all the way for me.”

“Oh, honey, no, not the game,” Chloe shook her head smiling, “The players, darling, who are your top three?”

“Oh no, wait!” Zoe clapped her hands together excitedly, “I know what we can do, we should play fuck, marry, kill.”

Chloe nodded, “Let’s do it, after a couple of drinks though, the answers are way more scandalous than.”

The streets had gotten more congested, but we managed to pass the time in traffic with a little help from Rihanna. The restaurant valet all rushed towards the AUDI, but of course the girls were distracted by the restaurant that was built on two levels, half of the second level was on the outside on a patio decked from end to end with outdoor space heaters, and they were straining their necks to see who was sitting around up there. Ex-boyfriends and their new girlfriends ran through my mind, but of course I knew better than to ask so soon and so sober.

We walked in, and the table was already prepared on the second floor for us. The restaurant was a
bit overly gilded for my taste, but Zoe and Chloe were oohing and aahing left and right. My attention only really spiked when I saw the generous portions being doled out on large white plates. We took our seats and ordered of minimalist menus.

Chloe and Zoe abruptly cut their conversation short. I didn’t realize they had stopped talking until I bothered to look up from the absolutely amazing shrimp scampi I was inhaling at an alarming rate. I was actually reaching for my empty wine glass, when I noted the silence and saw the onslaught of men in black pants and white button downs. It was the Real Madrid first team with Sergio Ramos and Cristiano Ronaldo at the very forefront.

For a moment there, it legitimately felt like they were walking inside in slow-motion with ‘I am phenomenal’ blasting in the background. For a minute I couldn’t stop staring.

But then I needed more wine and reached out to grab the bottle behind me. I was going to be seeing a lot of them in the coming months by the looks of things. When I had swiveled back I had more than just shrimp scampi in front of me.

“It’s you.”

“I think you have me confused with another you,” I returned, pressing on a smiled, trying to backtrack in my head, and nope, I had never properly met any of the Real Madrid players, never really felt inclined too.

“Cesc’s-“

My eyes widened as I cut him off, “It is me, Cesc’s friend!”

I emphasized the word enough, I hoped, for him to not try to correct me in front of the dozen or so pairs of eyes and ears on the off-chance that Cesc had blabbed about our relationship to his national teammates. Somehow that didn’t really surprise me.

“You’re my hero.”

“Can we talk-“

He stepped back and pointed towards the patio, “Outside, of course, I would like that.”

“Great.”

The rest of the first team quickly lost interest and ambled along toward their table. I chanced a glance behind to spot Chloe and Zoe staring dumbfounded at me. The words ‘what the fuck’ were practically etched onto their faces.

I laughed and held up a finger, “Just give me a minute.”

I didn’t even give him a moment’s opportunity to speak; I smacked him on the arm, my eyebrows furrowed, my expression aghast, “He told you!”

“He didn’t mention how hot you were either.”

“What did he tell you?”

“What is there supposed to tell?” He asked back, a wriggle to his eyebrows.

And here I thought Sergio Ramos was one of the dumb ones.

“The accident, the car I crashed,” I grasped at details salacious enough to keep his curiosity at bay.
He knew about this much, it was obvious, but the memory distracted him decently enough, “You crashed Messi’s custom-made AUDI. You are my hero. I bet he cried, did he cry?”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous, of course he didn’t cry,” I waved off his excitement.

Sergio opened his mouth to argue, shook his head, and instead said, “I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.”

“That’s just great.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, you know, and seriously Cesc is going to get it for not mentioning how hot you are,” Sergio genuinely looked perturbed by this revelation.

“People don’t know about-“I nodded briefly back inside to where Zoe and Chloe were seated. I would probably get around to mentioning it to them, but for now I was just having dinner with two new friends. It didn’t need to get more complicated than that.

“How is that possible?”

“They were out of the country,” I explained.

“So what lie are you going to tell them?”

“You’re a friend of a friend that wanted me to relay a message to said friend. I don’t need to get into details.”

“What message?”

I sighed, “Doesn’t matter.”

He pulled out his phone, “Let’s just take a quick pic, and you can get back to your scampi.”

“Why?”

“Just please.”

“Fine.”

He slung his arm over my shoulder and pulled me towards him as if I was a fan demanding to have this picture be taken. I tried to smile, but it didn’t feel like any part of my face actually made the effort, so I’m not quite sure what I looked like.

“Good talk, great picture,” Sergio didn’t even glance up from his phone.

“Fantastic”

“I’ll see you around.”

Oh if only he knew.

We walked back inside and he kissed my cheek and whispered something about believability that I didn’t quite make out before we parted ways.

Once I reached the table, the first thing I noticed was the lack of scampi.

“I wasn’t done with that scampi.”

“You’ll get a fresh plate once you spill.”

“It’s really not as scandalous as you guys have it built up in your head,” I promised as I took my seat.

Chloe flicked a dry bit of breadstick at me urging me on.

“A mutual friend of ours changed his phone number, and he wanted to know if I had it.”

“Who’s the mutual friend?”

“Cesc.”

“Oh I thought he mentioned his name.”

“Yeah, he moved to London and changed his number, lucky for Sergio, I had it handy already, I saw him before he left.”

Before Chloe could grab a waiter’s attention, the waiter that was dealing with the tables towards Sergio’s side of the restaurant walked over with a steaming bowl of fresh shrimp scampi.

“One of the gentlemen wanted you to have a new bowl of scampi.”

“If you can say thanks,” I answered without taking my eyes off of my bowl.

The girls were kind enough to not demand further details while I busied myself with stuffing my face full to bursting with shrimp. Eventually enough time passed where they got distracted with talks about class and work. They finished with their plates and were polishing off a cup of espresso each as I finished my own food.

We were waiting for the car outside when I got the call I was half-expecting to get. I walked towards the shaded side alley where I could still keep an eye out in case the car came by. Zoe and Chloe saw me walking off, both smiling, both assuming I was talking sweet nothings to the paramour in my life. I almost cackled at the idea.

“The week’s not even out yet, and already you’ve got Sergio’s arm slung across your shoulder on instagram. The stars are kind to you, Senna,” Cesc greeted.

I made a face even though he couldn’t see me, “I was out with some girlfriends of mine who apparently habitually stalk Real Madrid players when they’re not in class or at work; not that I need to justify myself to you.”

“You have friends?”

Cesc genuinely sounded surprised.

“I hate you,” I returned, “Of course I have friends, I always have friends.”

“Yes, you do, but they always tended to be of a particular stock: male footballers.”

“Well, things have changed, haven’t they? And just so you know, he recognized me because of you. Apparently our great adventure has reached his bubble of social networking.”

“You’re his hero, you know.”

“Yeah, he mentioned something along those lines. I just assumed he was drunk,” I answered, a deep sigh blowing out past the words. I was starting to get irritated with the conversation for a reason I couldn’t quite fathom.

“Well, I’ll let you get to it then, seems like you’ve got quite a night ahead of you, and I’ve got an early start tomorrow anyway.”

“I still can’t believe you’re a Chelsea player now. I was watching your game the other day and it was just the weirdest seeing you in blue.”

“Aw, did you get teary-eyed?”

“Little bit, actually,” I answered.

“You’re always honest when you’re tired.”

“I am tired; I get no sleep in Madrid.”

“Yes, well, clearly, Sergio wouldn’t allow that.”

“Drop it with the Sergio bit, it was an accidental meeting, and if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t even know who I am.”

“Why are you so defensive about this? I’m just joking.”

No, no you’re not.

“I just don’t like how you and Thiago assumed that I was going to move here and become fast friends with every footballer within Madrid’s city limits. And even if I did, I don’t see what concerns you or why it should be seen as a bad thing either.”

Wow, I must be ridiculously exhausted.

“It wasn’t an insult, I don’t get why you’re taking it that way,” Cesc defended, “I’m happy for you, Sen, I promise I am. I know what it’s like to be lonely in a new city, and I didn’t want that for you. It’s the worst.”

Then why didn’t you ask me to come with you when you left?

I stopped pacing, frozen, unblinking, as I tried to fathom where on earth that idea even occurred to me, and how I even managed to hold back the words from bubbling out. I retraced the conversation in my head, figured out something to say, and I resumed my pacing in the dark alleyway.

“I’m still adjusting to life in Madrid, so I’m just a tiny bit sensitive to pretty much everything right now,” I explained.

“I remember feeling that way,” Cesc insisted, his voice dropped down to a whisper that I even had to strain my ear to hear, “It goes away eventually, and you seem to be on the right track to get rid of it.”

I took another deep breath, “You have an early day tomorrow, Cesc, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Good Night, try to get some sleep.”

“Yeah you too,” I muttered.

I put my phone away in my back pocket, my hands to my face, as Cesc’s voice rang through my head. By the time I came up for air, I felt so disoriented; it took me a proper minute to realize why I was standing in the dead center of a creepy, dark alleyway where a few steps off an angry man was spouting off vague threats into a phone.

“I don’t want to talk to you about this or at all anymore. It is that simple. You think I care that people are asking you where I am? You think it bothers me that people talk? People are always going to talk about me, alright. You’re only concern right now is whether or not people will still be talking about when you’re no longer my girlfriend,” He kept his voice even through every word, it was his calmness more than his actual words that send an involuntary shiver down my spine.

The voice was unfamiliar and familiar to me all at the same time. It had fallen into silence; no doubt listen to whatever the other person had to say. He was standing much further down the alleyway and his back was towards me, but his voice still echoed clearly enough to catch the words.

“Wait a minute,” Footsteps began to echo, but I couldn’t quite tell which way they were going, “No, do not raise your voice at me, alright? We-“

Damn it he was coming closer to me. I tried to skip off as quickly and quietly as I could before he could catch sight of me and assume I was eavesdropping. I didn’t dare to check behind me until I was casually back standing between Chloe and Zoe trying to regain my breath.

Oh my god.

That was Cristiano Ronaldo.