Unbelievably Brilliant, Undoubtedly Impossible
chapter eight;
By the time Andrea and Rafa were fully awake, it was noon. They were awake enough to notice how they had slept the night before. Andrea and Rafa both blushed, looking down to their entangled limbs and Rafa’s arms placed delicately on Andrea’s hips.
Rafa went into the bathroom, while Andrea plopped down on the couch and turned on the television, fully understanding what the people were saying. Having a Spanish mother had its perks. Spanish had been Andrea’s first language, but she seldom spoke it.
Andrea wanted to have a bit of fun with Rafa and put on the English subtitles. Rafa came out of the bathroom, dressed after his shower. “I thought we could have a late lunch with my family and then we could come back and get ready for the banquet?”
Andrea was stunned; she had to meet his family? “Sounds…good,” she finally stammered out.
The lunch went well, Andrea still played dumb when it came to speaking Spanish. Rafa’s family was accommodating, to having a person that didn’t speak the language. Andrea took a special liking to Uncle Toni, who had vast knowledge of tennis.
It was time to get ready for the banquet; Rafa being the gentleman offered that Andrea could get ready in the bathroom. Rafa handed Andrea her dress, but it was covered. He tried to peek at what it looked like.
“Tsk, tsk. No peeking,” Andrea said, smacking Rafa’s hand playfully.
Two hours later, Andrea emerged from the bathroom showered and primped. The dress fit her perfectly, accentuating her features. Her hair was done up in braids and her make-up was natural, but that suited her.
Rafa was at a loss for words, making Andrea blush. “You don’t look half bad yourself,” she said, playfully hitting Rafa in the shoulder.
That snapped Rafa out of his trance, “Alright, let’s go.”
Andrea was so nervous on the car ride to the banquet, what would people say? Was she even Rafa’s date? Or a friend date? Rafa thankfully answered all of the reporters’ questions, never breaking a sweat.
Rafa led Andrea to their table; Rafa’s hand on Andrea’s lower back felt calloused but soft on her exposed skin. Andrea gasped, not at Rafa’s touch, but at their table. Iker Casillas and Fernando Torres were sitting at their table. Rafa laughed at Andrea’s fan girl squeal. He whispered in her ear, “I’ll introduce you.”
Andrea could hardly talk to her favourite soccer players, Iker laughed at her shyness. While Fernando gave her a lusty stare.
Rafa went off to talk to some other athletes, leaving Andrea with Iker and Fernando. The silence was eating away at Andrea. Well, it wasn’t quite silence, as Iker and Fernando were mumbling in Spanish.
“…do you think she’s single?” Fernando asked.
“…well she’s Rafa’s date, so…”
“…she could just be a friend…”
“…what about Rebecca?” Iker asked.
Fernando remained quiet, as that subject was very touchy.
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by Andrea, “I do speak Spanish, you know.” Iker and Fernando exchanged worried looks.
Fernando fumbled for an explanation. While Iker just smiled, “How would you like to help me out?”
Andrea shot him an eager smile. Iker whisked Andrea off to a secluded room with a video camera. Andrea immediately gave Iker a funny look.
Iker started laughing, “Don’t worry, I know you’re Rafa’s girl.” Andrea opened her mouth to protest, but Iker silenced her. “I need another person to speak with me in a video congratulating Rafa.”
Andrea started backing up towards the door, “No, no. You have the wrong person. I’ve only known Rafa for just over a week.”
Iker shook his head in disagreement, “I saw the clip of him falling on you. Just say something a friend would say.”
Andrea sighed in defeat and taped her part. Iker returned her to the table, both wearing smiles. Fernando shot them a confused look, but Rafa didn’t assume anything.
Dinner was served, a typical Spanish meal including tortillas, tapas, croquettes and eggs. The awards followed, with each speech, Rafa whispered the translation into Andrea’s ear.
When it came for Rafa’s award, Most Successful Year, Iker and Andrea had huge smiles plastered on their faces. Rafa won, he shook hands with friends and kissed Andrea on the cheek, but dangerously close to her lips.
The master of ceremonies announced they had one more surprise for him. The video Iker and Andrea had made earlier played, but Rafa’s attention wasn’t on the screen. But on Andrea as he heard her speaking fluent Spanish.
Rafa returned to his seat and instantly whispered in her ear, “So I wasted the whole night translating for you, didn’t I?”
Andrea laughed and seductively whispered back, “I didn’t mind at all. Tonight, on the other hand, not so much.”
Rafa immediately blushed, but kept his cool, “So I assume you’re coming home with me? And not Mister Torres?”
Andrea laughed again and looked at Fernando, who was sulking at the conversation he was witnessing. Rafa thought to himself, how I love her laugh.
“Torres has nothing on you. Anyways, he’s old.”
Fernando stiffened, “I. Am. Not. Old.”
Andrea glared at him, “Better check your birth certificate boy, ‘cause you got a couple years on Rafa.”
Rafa pulled Andrea away, “And with that, we’ll make our exit.”
The pair went straight to bed. A night of bliss, Rafa followed Andrea’s request and wasn’t quiet. They awoke the next morning, the sun shining in their eyes, limbs intertwined and a busy week ahead of them.
Rafa went into the bathroom, while Andrea plopped down on the couch and turned on the television, fully understanding what the people were saying. Having a Spanish mother had its perks. Spanish had been Andrea’s first language, but she seldom spoke it.
Andrea wanted to have a bit of fun with Rafa and put on the English subtitles. Rafa came out of the bathroom, dressed after his shower. “I thought we could have a late lunch with my family and then we could come back and get ready for the banquet?”
Andrea was stunned; she had to meet his family? “Sounds…good,” she finally stammered out.
The lunch went well, Andrea still played dumb when it came to speaking Spanish. Rafa’s family was accommodating, to having a person that didn’t speak the language. Andrea took a special liking to Uncle Toni, who had vast knowledge of tennis.
It was time to get ready for the banquet; Rafa being the gentleman offered that Andrea could get ready in the bathroom. Rafa handed Andrea her dress, but it was covered. He tried to peek at what it looked like.
“Tsk, tsk. No peeking,” Andrea said, smacking Rafa’s hand playfully.
Two hours later, Andrea emerged from the bathroom showered and primped. The dress fit her perfectly, accentuating her features. Her hair was done up in braids and her make-up was natural, but that suited her.
Rafa was at a loss for words, making Andrea blush. “You don’t look half bad yourself,” she said, playfully hitting Rafa in the shoulder.
That snapped Rafa out of his trance, “Alright, let’s go.”
Andrea was so nervous on the car ride to the banquet, what would people say? Was she even Rafa’s date? Or a friend date? Rafa thankfully answered all of the reporters’ questions, never breaking a sweat.
Rafa led Andrea to their table; Rafa’s hand on Andrea’s lower back felt calloused but soft on her exposed skin. Andrea gasped, not at Rafa’s touch, but at their table. Iker Casillas and Fernando Torres were sitting at their table. Rafa laughed at Andrea’s fan girl squeal. He whispered in her ear, “I’ll introduce you.”
Andrea could hardly talk to her favourite soccer players, Iker laughed at her shyness. While Fernando gave her a lusty stare.
Rafa went off to talk to some other athletes, leaving Andrea with Iker and Fernando. The silence was eating away at Andrea. Well, it wasn’t quite silence, as Iker and Fernando were mumbling in Spanish.
“…do you think she’s single?” Fernando asked.
“…well she’s Rafa’s date, so…”
“…she could just be a friend…”
“…what about Rebecca?” Iker asked.
Fernando remained quiet, as that subject was very touchy.
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by Andrea, “I do speak Spanish, you know.” Iker and Fernando exchanged worried looks.
Fernando fumbled for an explanation. While Iker just smiled, “How would you like to help me out?”
Andrea shot him an eager smile. Iker whisked Andrea off to a secluded room with a video camera. Andrea immediately gave Iker a funny look.
Iker started laughing, “Don’t worry, I know you’re Rafa’s girl.” Andrea opened her mouth to protest, but Iker silenced her. “I need another person to speak with me in a video congratulating Rafa.”
Andrea started backing up towards the door, “No, no. You have the wrong person. I’ve only known Rafa for just over a week.”
Iker shook his head in disagreement, “I saw the clip of him falling on you. Just say something a friend would say.”
Andrea sighed in defeat and taped her part. Iker returned her to the table, both wearing smiles. Fernando shot them a confused look, but Rafa didn’t assume anything.
Dinner was served, a typical Spanish meal including tortillas, tapas, croquettes and eggs. The awards followed, with each speech, Rafa whispered the translation into Andrea’s ear.
When it came for Rafa’s award, Most Successful Year, Iker and Andrea had huge smiles plastered on their faces. Rafa won, he shook hands with friends and kissed Andrea on the cheek, but dangerously close to her lips.
The master of ceremonies announced they had one more surprise for him. The video Iker and Andrea had made earlier played, but Rafa’s attention wasn’t on the screen. But on Andrea as he heard her speaking fluent Spanish.
Rafa returned to his seat and instantly whispered in her ear, “So I wasted the whole night translating for you, didn’t I?”
Andrea laughed and seductively whispered back, “I didn’t mind at all. Tonight, on the other hand, not so much.”
Rafa immediately blushed, but kept his cool, “So I assume you’re coming home with me? And not Mister Torres?”
Andrea laughed again and looked at Fernando, who was sulking at the conversation he was witnessing. Rafa thought to himself, how I love her laugh.
“Torres has nothing on you. Anyways, he’s old.”
Fernando stiffened, “I. Am. Not. Old.”
Andrea glared at him, “Better check your birth certificate boy, ‘cause you got a couple years on Rafa.”
Rafa pulled Andrea away, “And with that, we’ll make our exit.”
The pair went straight to bed. A night of bliss, Rafa followed Andrea’s request and wasn’t quiet. They awoke the next morning, the sun shining in their eyes, limbs intertwined and a busy week ahead of them.