Unbelievably Brilliant, Undoubtedly Impossible

Andrea stayed holed up in her room for the rest of the afternoon, avoiding basically everyone in the Nadal family. Except for Mrs. Nadal who was beyond worried about her. She switched between aimlessly surfing the Internet and sitting out on the balcony, staring at the beautiful coastline. Dinner was awkward, as Rafa tried to keep the PDA down, while Xisca wanted to flaunt it to the world. He kept sending nervous glances at Andrea, wondering what was going on in that pretty little head.

“Can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner,” Andrea grumbled to herself, as she started throwing her clothes into her oversized suitcase. “Good for nothing, son of a –”

“What are you doing?”

She looked up to see Toni standing in her doorway, a surprised look on his face; that was often emotionless.

“I’m going home, that’s what I’m doing,” she snapped.

“Now, now. No need to be testy with me,” Toni said sternly, walking into the bedroom and taking a seat on the vanity chair. “Why are you going home? We leave for Stuttgart in four days.”

“You’re coming with us?”

“Of course I am, Rafa is hardly a professional coach. For him to be a coach, he needs a coach coaching him.”

Andrea laughed and then stopped, “That is true. But that doesn’t matter, I’m going home. I left tennis for a reason.”

“Very well, it was nice meeting you Andrea. Please do keep in touch.” And with that Toni tipped his hat at Andrea and left the room, but Andrea quickly called after him.

“Wait!” she called, jogging to catch up with him. “Please don’t tell Rafa that I’m leaving, I’d rather just disappear than have to say goodbye.”

“As you wish.”

The next morning Andrea got up extra early and made her way quietly downstairs with her suitcase and tennis bag. The coast was almost clear, when a voice boomed in the foyer.

“Andrea! Where in the world are you going at this early in the morning?” Mrs. Nadal scolded from the kitchen.

“Home,” Andrea replied simply.

“We can’t let you do that now, you have a tournament to go to,” Mrs. Nadal said in her motherly tone.

“And why is that?”

“Because you have a guest.”

“A guest?” Andrea said, clearly confused and then she was on the floor, a pair of arms wrapped around her neck. She hugged back, equally as tight. “Misch! What are you doing here?!”

“My best friend is getting mopey over some stupid boy, so I thought I would use a pay cheque to come make her feel better.”

“Misch, that’s a whole pay cheque! What about the apartment?”

“Rachel’s dad is covering for us, until we go back. We are going back right?”

Andrea crinkled her eyebrows, she didn’t know if she was heading back to London. She absolutely loved it in Spain and realized why her mother loved the country so much. “I-I’m not exactly sure. Eventually I’ll come back, but I want to see how well Stuttgart goes.”

“Well, good. I needed a change of scenery anyways,” Misch said excitedly, with a huge grin.

“Now enough chit chat, it’s breakfast time. And Misch you have a practice to attend,” Mrs. Nadal said, ushering the girls into the massive kitchen.

“And now I have a hitting partner,” Andrea squealed, wrapping an arm around Michelle.

The girls talked throughout the entire meal, every once in awhile Mrs. Nadal piling on more food onto their plates. It was as if the girls hadn’t been apart for even a second, they fit each other perfectly. Michelle was in the middle of telling a story about the new girl that worked at Stocky’s, when someone dropped a plate.

Andrea and Michelle turned their heads at the same time to see a very surprised Rafa, looking embarrassed as he picked up the pieces from the broken plate. “H-hello Michelle, nice to see you again,” he choked out.

Michelle grinned evilly, “Long time no see Rafa, heard you were making Andrea work for her practices, if you know what I mean.”

Rafa choked on the orange juice he was drinking, his eyes were as wide as saucers. His mother looked at him worriedly, but Rafa was quick to brush her off. He looked at Michelle and glared, which earned a slap from his mother.

“That is no way to treat a guest in my house, now go get ready for practice. You can’t be late for practice two days in a row.”

“Mama, that wasn’t my fault!” Rafa whined.

“I don’t care whose fault it is, you need to make up for it. I don’t want Andrea losing her tournament for your mistakes,” Mrs. Nadal said sternly and then smiled in Andrea’s direction.

Andrea said a small thank you and then dragged Michelle up to her bedroom, where another bed was already set up. “That was fast,” she said, giving Michelle a wary look.

“Okay, so I may be called Mama Nadal and she set me up with the directions and everything.”

“You’re lucky you’re so lovable, otherwise you wouldn’t have even stepped one foot onto the property.”

“I know,” Michelle said, batting her eyelashes.

The girls made their way over to the practice courts, chatting away when Rafa came up jogging beside them. “Look, I’m sorry about my reaction earlier today. I just wasn’t expecting another guest in the house.”

Michelle narrowed her eyes at Rafa and whispered harshly, “The only reason why I flew all the way here was to protect Andrea from you. You think that because you’re famous and gorgeous that you can have everything you want, when you want it. Well, guess what buddy; when you sleep with another girl while you have a girlfriend, it’s called cheating. And now Andrea will have that on her conscience for the rest of her life. So mission accomplished Rafael and if you value your tennis career, stay away from her or you’ll have hell to pay.”

Rafa looked completely flabbergasted; his mouth was hanging open, his eyes wide and he was shaking. I guess nobody had spoken to him like that in years. He simply nodded his head and started jogging again, ahead of the girls.

“What did you do that for?” Andrea nearly shouted.

“I thought you would be thanking me, not yelling at me!”

Andrea glared at her best friend, she was happy that Michelle had spoken up for her, but she didn’t want to scare Rafa away. To be honest, she was falling for him slowly, something she wasn’t proud of. Her thoughts keep wandering back to Rafa and finally Michelle’s waving hand brought her back.

“You like him, don’t you?” Michelle said with a smirk.

“No,” she grumbled back. “Now let’s get to practice.”