Keep Cool, Stay Tough

Three memorable things occurred before I finally found myself in Barcelona. The first was the evening to commemorate the end of the semester, and also the end of my time in Madrid. After Mina’s dramatic change of attitude we joined up with Chloe and Zoe and commenced the night of bar hopping. Needless to say there was plenty of heavy drinking involved. Heavy drinking that led to blackouts and barfing. I didn’t remember the barfing due to the blackouts, but I certainly smelled it on me in the morning.

The second thing that occurred was the dreaded conversation with Martha. It was made even more dreadful because it was now coupled with the worst hangover I had experienced in my life. I was as honest and as clear as one could be without naming Cristiano as the player that I had been enamored by during my stint in Madrid. She didn’t ask me for a name, but she was curious, I could tell. Or maybe delusion was a side effect of the worst hangover of my life. Either way it didn’t matter, she accepted my resignation without much fuss.

And the third thing was sitting across from my dear sweet friend Fernando at a nondescript dive bar on Friday afternoon, (I was in no state to travel on Thursday) wishing the vague, cringe worthy flashes were from an awful nightmare and not from that stupid night out I was so desperate to take part in on Wednesday.

“Well, to be completely honest, I couldn’t understand what you were saying past all the crying,” Fernando recalled with a thoughtful frown, “And there was a lot of crying.”

“I am so sorry, I should not have called you,” I apologized for the umpteenth time, “Apparently I broke my phone after I called you, not before.”

Fernando shook his head, “No, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you called. You and your friends were in no state to get home without causing chaos on the way. Are you sure it’s broken?”

“That is the one thing I have a distinct memory of. I remember watching the screen shatter,” I assured.

“You did it on purpose?”

“I was really scared about drunk dialing someone,” I hedged.

“Drunk dialing Ronaldo,” Fernando specified.

“Yes.”

“So you broke your phone over that?”

“Yes, and I regret nothing,” I stubbornly emphasized. I was more than willing to buy and break a hundred more iPhones if it meant Cristiano not knowing how hurt I was over the breakup.

“What happened?”

“We were celebrating the end of the semester,” I explained, still finding flashes of memory to wince over. It was as if the sound of Fernando’s voice triggered a release of memories that had been hidden away because of the hangover.

He nodded towards me, frowning, “Your friends were celebrating, you were drowning your sorrows, and you were too incoherent for me to figure out what you were talking about. I meant what happened that left you so…emotional.”

“Did I mention how sorry I was that I called you?”

“Yeah, yeah, get over it, and tell me what the fuck happened.”

I arched a brow before muttering, “I scored the goal and I still lost.”

Fernando’s eyes bulged as he leaned towards me from across the table to hiss, “You did it, you slept with him?!”

“We started dating,” I added, vaguely curious to see just how wide Fernando’s eyes could go. From this close proximity I noticed that I could count the freckles all over his face.

“Terrible choice,” He noted shaking his head as he leaned away accompanied by his beer.

“Apparently,” I concurred under my breath.

It still stung, and knowing my predilection for holding grudges it was going to sting for a while. The only thing I could do was do my best to keep my mind off him…which of course was proving to be just as difficult as I anticipated.

“When I had suggested the initial…thing, I hadn’t thought real feelings were involved,” Fernando justified, “I thought it would fizzle out, and you wouldn’t have to deal with whatever tension I had witnessed that night anymore.”

I sighed, “Well, I don’t have to deal with it anymore.”

“Hey, you’ll be okay.”

I tried to smile, gave up, and shrugged instead, “It feels a lot like when you get stung by a bee. It burns at first so you ice it until you don’t feel it anymore. I’m the dumb one that thought she could hold the bee and expect it not to sting.”

“You love him, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m leaving.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I’m staying in Madrid.”

“What about school?”

“I think I can transfer again,” I waved off his logical concerns, “I’ll figure something out.”

“What if you don’t have to?”

I laughed, it didn’t sound like me, “Okay, my turn to ask, what do you mean?”

Fernando opened his mouth to explain, but his phone rang, he tried to rush whoever it was off the phone, but whoever it was managed to be much more obstinate than Fernando.

“Sounds like we should probably get going,” I stretched my arms over my head before throwing my sunglasses in my bag after he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Fernando rolled his eyes, but I was already coming to my feet, “It’s just Sergio.”

“I have a train to catch anyway,” I reminded.

***

I was nervous about facing my dad and Joie because I didn’t know whether Martha had mentioned any of what I had said to my dad. I didn’t tell her not to, so it was pretty much fair game. I just really, really hoped she hadn’t. But even if she hadn’t, I knew that I should probably at the very least touch upon the reason why I didn’t want to work in Martha’s clinic anymore.

I wasn’t a love-struck teenager that could hide behind romantic notions of Romeo and Juliet proportions. I was just a bit stung by love.

It became apparent almost immediately that Martha had made no mention of my reasons for wanting to come back. It was solely my choice about just how much information I wanted to share on the matter of my return. Of course I chose to lag making the decision for as long as possible.
We decided to go out for dinner as a family because we hadn’t had the chance to share a proper meal together in months. The honor of choosing a place rested with me – as if I wasn’t already struck by enough indecision at the moment. But apparently when food is concerned I have the ability to make decent snap decisions. I got genuine nods of approval from both my dad and Joie when we arrived at the beachfront bistro I had directed the drive towards. We each ordered large plates of different food so that we could share amongst ourselves, and just as I sucked in a breath and bring up my reasoning for leaving Martha’s clinic I was interrupted.

“Is that Senna?” A voice demanded loudly from somewhere behind me.

I whirled around and found a bumbling Gerard Pique coming towards the booth I was sharing with my family. I came to my feet, squealing as he picked me up in a hug and spun me around.

“When did you get back?” He demanded when he finally set me back down and shook hands with my dad and greeted Joie.

“Today,” I answered.

“Like maybe two hours ago,” Joie specified.

Immediately he looked affronted, “You come to my place for the first time in months, and you don’t even call me to join you?”

“Your place?” I asked with a skeptical brow.

“I showed you this place,” Gerard reminded with an impatient wave of his hand.

“Oh yeah, you did, didn’t you?” I smiled as the memory slid to the front of my mind.

“So are you back, like properly back?” He asked.

I nodded, “School’s over, and I’m sure Joie will welcome an extra pair of hands to help around the house.”

Joie vehemently nodded her head as my dad rolled his eyes.

“Honestly you two baby me way too much, it’s ridiculous,” He grumbled.

Gerard threw his arm over my shoulders, grinning from ear to ear, “I’m sure we’re all happy to finally have Senna back home.”

My conversation with my dad and sister was indefinitely shelved with Gerard’s arrival because within fifteen minutes and an Instagram post later the bistro’s patio was roped off for an impromptu gathering of Barcelona’s first team.

My dad cracked a joke about being old and requiring extra beauty sleep, and disappeared soon after we finished our meal leaving Joie and me to fend for ourselves. After seeing our dad off, we returned back to dinner-party that was quickly turning into a full-blown party as someone, most likely Rafinha, had started blasting out trap music.

“So you’re still coming to Chile next month, right?” Leo questioned upon pulling me into a slightly quieter corner. I noticed from the corner of my eye, Joie had struck up a casual conversation with Jordi and Antonella.

I nodded, “With my cousin Mina and maybe Joie too actually, I can’t wait for you to meet Mina though, you’ll love her, she’s great.”

I was already dreading all the gushing and the romance that would be waiting for me in Chile once Mina was officially reunited with her Argentine. So I was hoping I could cajole my single sister to tag along and strike a balance.

“Did your cousin happen to date Pipita by any chance a couple years ago?” Leo asked uncertainly, “I think that was his ex’s name...or was it Mia?”

“You knew they were dating before me too!” I demanded with a gasp, incensed.

Leo nodded, laughing at my reaction, “I know her as Pipita’s ex-girlfriend, not as your cousin.”
I shook my head, wide-eyed in disbelief.

“He misses her, he’s been trying to figure out the best way to reach out to her,” He continued.

I couldn’t help but to smile at that, “She misses him too; she’s the reason why I asked about joining you guys in Chile.”

“I won’t tell him she’s coming; it’ll be a fun surprise.”

“Smart thinking,” I answered, feeling encouraged by Mina’s choice to take the plunge.

The team was due in Madrid to play against Fernando & CO at the Calderon on Sunday so the night stayed pretty tame and was cut relatively short. If they managed a win there, they would officially be crowned champions of Spain. I was tempted to join them in Madrid to watch the game live, but ultimately decided to stay home and watch the match on the flat screen instead.

Sunday came around and we all stayed in with Joie volunteering to cook dinner. I played sous chef until the match started hoping to learn some kitchen basics that seemed to escape me over the years. Joie was skeptical and kept me on prep duty, handing me veggies and potatoes to cut, sprits with olive oil, throw a dash of rosemary, and pop into the oven.

Once I heard the ref blow the whistle to begin the first half, I ran off to jump onto the couch next to my dad to watch the game. I shrugged off the feeling of being seventeen and focused on the wildly entertaining match unfolding before me.

Messi scored a dreamy goal in the second half to officially confirm Barcelona as champions. The goal was so sublime that it even brought Joie cheering from the kitchen making my dad and me both laugh in surprise.

“It’s infectious,” Joie defended, miffed, and returned to the kitchen.

“Sure, sure,” I called, gaining confidence that she might actually say yes when I ask her to join Mina and me in Chile in June.

The game ended, and the score remained unchanged. I got up to set the table, stealing veggies that burned my tongue every time I returned to the kitchen to grab plates, bread, and drinks as my dad went upstairs to wash up.

“So Mina and I are going to Chile in June for the Copa América,” I started.

“That should be fun,” Joie commented as she checked on her chicken.

“I would love it if you joined us,” I invited because she obviously wasn’t getting the hint.

“Really?” The glass dish clattered against the marble countertop as she glanced up at me dubiously.

“Yeah, of course, the more the merrier,” I nodded insistently.

“Dad’s probably going to go visit Uncle James’ family anyway, and I don’t need to worry about school until August…” Joie thought aloud, “Yeah, I would definitely love to come.”

I clapped my hands together before popping another potato in my mouth, “Awesome, I’ll let Mina know.”

My dad returned and we sat around the dining room table, making me once again shrug off the feeling of being seventeen when the doorbell rang. The three of us looked at each other confused, none of us bothering to actually move.

“I got it,” I said with my mouth full to bursting with potato and chicken, although neither my dad nor Joie had made any effort to get up anyway.

I opened the door and I froze in momentary disbelief.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.