Keep Cool, Stay Tough

Somehow one day in Barcelona turned into three. I made the awful mistake of telling my dad that I didn’t have class until Monday, and he took that as his chance to call Martha to demand that she give me leave until then. He found it difficult to believe that I wasn’t actually holding a grudge over all the secret keeping that had been going on. Maybe in all honesty I hadn’t gotten over it, but I was not about to rehash something that’s already happened and couldn’t be changed. But still the over-niceness and overcompensating was really wearing thin on me by day three.

“I’m going crazy here with my dad and Joie. It’s like they got replaced by the nice body-snatchers or something. I can’t last here until Monday. I want to come to Valencia tonight, and I want you to call with some bullshit emergency that requires all hands on deck,” I hissed into the phone as I checked around me to make sure I hadn’t been followed. I had grabbed my book bag and headed to the backyard to study, but mostly to call and convince Mina to help get me out of Barcelona.

“You want to surprise Cristiano, don’t you?”

I could practically see her stupid, dopey smile as I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah that too, he’s been really nice about my disappearing act, and I just would like to do something nice in return,” I muttered, wishing she would just let it drop. It was a small gesture that I really didn’t need her gushing over.

“Why wouldn’t he be nice about it?”

“Barcelona kicked Bayern’s ass on Wednesday, I really doubt he’s feeling all that benevolent at the moment, but he’s been great with answering texts and facetime calls,” I pointed out, my voice flattening.

“I got you, Sen, don’t worry, just text me when you want me to call, and I will bring on the drama,” Mina promised. She probably picked up on the fact that I didn’t want to carry on this conversation any further.

“Thank you, and make sure no one hears you calling, I really do want to leave it as a surprise,” I gave a final reminder before hanging up.

Mina stuck to her word less than twenty minutes later when I was back inside with my dad and Joie. I booked a train ticket, but the only one still available insured that I would miss the entire Real Madrid match. I was only a little regretful about missing out on Barcelona’s match at home against Real Sociedad too.

My dad and even Joie kicked up more of a fuss about the sudden alleged emergency than I had expected them too. They wouldn’t drop me off at the train station until I promised aloud at least three times that I would come back next weekend. I spent the majority of the train ride turning my attention from studying for finals to checking the score for the games I was missing.

Barcelona wound up winning 2-0, and Real Madrid drew 2-2 with Valencia. Cristiano missed a penalty at the end of the first half, and pretty much every attacking player managed to screw up an opportunity to score in the second half at least one time. The scores managed to leave me with a touch of nervousness as I called Mina to see if I should go to Mestalla or straight to the team hotel.

“Just come to the stadium, we’re still here.”

If Mina’s disconsolate tone was any indication, the atmosphere I was about to walk in on wasn’t going to be the most high spirited I’d seen these players in. Of course I didn’t blame them, but I was wondering if now was the best time to pay a surprise visit to Cristiano.

The crowds had largely dispersed by the time I reached the stadium. I found Mina near the team bus. A lot of the players were holed up in the player’s lounge nursing sore egos and chilled beer bottles.

“I told Cristiano to wait in the locker room for a reporter,” Mina gave a tiny smile as she led me there.

“Thanks, Min, that’s clever,” I complimented quietly.

She pointed towards a pair of shut double doors, gave a final smile, “I’ll leave you to it.”

I was gripped by a nervousness that I hadn’t felt in a long while as I pushed open the doors to reveal Cristiano seated on a wooden bench in front of a row of cubbies his bare, muscular back facing the door.

“Do you usually do your interviews shirtless?” I asked, wishing I had something wittier or kinder to say.

Cristiano turned around, visibly confused as he found me walking towards him, “I thought you’d be at Camp Nou partying it up after the win.”

I plopped down next to him, kissed his cheek, and took his hand in mine, “I didn’t go to Camp Nou tonight. I asked Mina to call and fake an emergency.”

“But you saw all your friends,” He presumed.

I nodded, unsure where his train of thought was taking him. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that it wasn’t going anywhere good.

“You talked to Thiago?” He specified.

“Before the match on Wednesday, we met at a bar outside Camp Nou for a drink. Well, I drank, Thiago talked a lot,” I remembered. I had thought that things might have felt a little awkward for the pair of us because of Cesc, but Thiago had been more understanding about my predicament. He promised that nothing would change between the two of us regardless of what’s going on with me and anyone else.

“You talked about Fabregas.”

I sighed, “Why does that matter?”

He ignored me, “And you didn’t mention me to him.”

“Why would I, Cris? Why are you still half naked, come on, get up, get dressed, and let’s go grab a bite to eat,” I waved him up as I came to my feet myself. The locker room was beginning to feel stuffy and small and I wanted to be outside breathing in the cool night air.

“I can’t believe I never saw it,” Cristiano voice was low, he still hadn’t budged, and I wasn’t sure if he was speaking to himself or addressing me, but then he turned to look towards me, “You’re embarrassed by me, aren’t you?”

I half-laughed, half scoffed at his question, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that he was being dead serious, “What on earth are you talking about? Why would I be embarrassed to be dating you? That makes zero sense.”

“You don’t want your family or your friends back home to know that you’re dating the complete antithesis of Barcelona,” He explained as if he had cracked some ingenious code.

I rolled my eyes, “Quit the theatrics, I’m sorry, honestly I am, you’ve had a tough week, but come on, you’re just being ridiculous. Let’s go, and I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’ve been thinking about it, and why else would you want to keep waiting. I told you that I want to prove that things would stay smooth, but still you put it off.”

“It has nothing to do with being embarrassed!” I shouted.

“Then what?” He nodded towards me, his arms crossing in front of his chest.

I shook my head, “I refuse to carry on this conversation inside Mestalla’s away team locker room, Cris. Get dressed properly, and let’s go have a proper dinner.”

“I already have plans for tonight,” Cristiano finally came to his feet, grabbing a shirt to pull over his head.

“What plans? I came from Barcelona to surprise you, and you’re just snubbing me because you had a bad game? You’ve had bad games before and we’ve argued before,” I answered, my patience beginning to wear thin.

“Look Senna, we more or less just completely lost out on even the small hope that we could take the league tonight, and I would really just rather be with my teammates tonight,” His tone managed to reflect my own impatience perfectly.

“You are not being fair,” I said and left the locker room without even a sparing glance back.

Mina was waiting outside by the buses again. This time she was joined by Sergio and Karim when I arrived. Everyone else had already found seats inside and were either playing on their phones or sleeping. Sergio and Karim’s darkened expressions lit up when they saw me approach.

“You’re here! How come?” Sergio demanded, pulling me into a brief hug.

I shrugged, lacking the words to explain.

“Is everything alright back home?”

I nodded, and spotted Cristiano finally sauntering out of the hallway I had just come out of, I pulled on a bright smile, faced Sergio, “Everything’s great back home, thanks.”

Mina had called a taxi to go to the hospital that Martha had gone to with Kroos because he had taken a horrible knock during the game. Just as everyone had loaded into the bus to go back to the hotel, Mina’s taxi arrived a few minutes afterward. I didn’t go into details about what was going on and thankfully Mina didn’t press me for details. Somehow we got through the night translating what the doctors were saying for Toni to understand.

Dawn was breaking when we finally arrived at the hotel. Martha and Paul had gone ahead with Toni to the hotel in one taxi, and Mina and I followed along in another. The plan was to catch a few hours sleep, grab breakfast as a group at the hotel, and then finally go back to Madrid. Training wasn’t going to resume until Tuesday according to Paul.

Mina noticed the figure seated outside under the shadow of a tree with the tray of coffee before I did. When I noticed, I still continued on my way inside the hotel, but Mina hooked her arm through mine and more or less dragged me over.

“So we should talk,” Cristiano started as he patted the vacant spot beside him when Mina and I were within hearing distance.
I pointed at him accusingly, “You know I don’t know if I want to talk to you right now. I have plans already.”

Sure my plans were limited to a bed and a power nap, but it counts.
Mina nudged my shoulder with hers and I rolled my eyes. Cristiano handed one of the coffees to Mina who accepted and disappeared leaving me alone outside with Cristiano.

“You have to admit, I do have a point.”

“No you don’t, and I don’t have to admit anything because that is complete and utter crap, and you should know better than to think that I’m embarrassed by you,” I snapped, and decided to head after Mina into the hotel.

“Then why are we still meeting in the shadows?” He questioned after me.

I whirled around, eyes narrowed, glaring at him, “You honestly want to know why? You act like a total ass when there are people around.”

“Is this about what I said to Sergio the other day?”

“That’s the most recent one,” I acquiesced.

“There are multiple incidences?” He sounded disbelieving of his own potential to be an ass.
“There are more,” I assured with a laugh, “Iker is my friend, and he had no problem walking over and saying a quick little hello to my friends that night we were at Sergio’s friend’s lounge opening. You on the other hand just walked back without even a glance to spare. You just have this horribly, consistent tendency to be different with me around people, and I don’t know that Cristiano all that well.”

“It’s still me, public or private, it’s still me.”

I laughed, “No, I promise you, it’s not. Sometimes I really think that if we do go public then I’ll lose this version of you.”

He shook his head, “You won’t, if people knew what was going on, then I would be able to be myself with you all the time.”

I was still skeptical, and still annoyed, but he was trying, and I was too tired to push my point, “We’ll find out in a few weeks then.”

“You act different around people too.”

“I do not.”

Cristiano stared at me with a quizzical brow.

“Okay, how?”

“You’re just acting all the time, and no one’s caught on, but when you’re talking to someone, anyone, you act like you’re completely swept in the moment, in what they’re telling you, but you’re not. Your mind is always a million miles away. I see it, all the time, but I could never figure out what you’re thinking about,” Cristiano explained.

I rolled my eyes and finally took up the spot next to him, “Well I would think that it would be obvious what I’m thinking about.”

Again with the vacant stare.

“You, dummy, my mind is a million miles away with you, even in Barcelona, every minute I was thinking about you. I couldn’t wait until Monday to see you, and you singlehandedly destroyed my attempt at spontaneous romance,” I laughed, feeling silly.

He threw an arm over my shoulder and pressed me against him, “I’ve had a bad week which left me in a bad mood, and gave me bad thoughts.”

“As long as you understand how wrong you are, then I say we just move on.”

“I was wrong,” He conceded.